#in spirit i am with you. my heart will not allow it though (skill issue)

[moe-broey]

Help.

[capricorn-stark]

Protégé

pairing: red hood!jason todd x robin!reader, slow burn 

warning: swearing

a/n: for context, this is somewhat loosely based off of Battle for the Cowl (2009) which I definitely recommend as a read! 

There was something about falling that you would never, ever get tired of. 

Ever. 

Probably.

With the wind whistling in your ears, your hair floating up in a million directions, and your limbs seemingly weightless as the buildings and lights blurred into one endless streak of color, the rush of adrenaline that ran through your body right before your grappling hook shot out and you landed quietly on the concrete was about a million times better than any sparring session back at the cave. 

You grinned as you straightened, rather proud of the fact that you had actually managed to land so smoothly without nearly paralyzing yourself. Again.The landing was something you had been working on for a while now.

You could practically hear Bruce’s voice ringing through your head after your little stunt, lamenting on and on about how you had more important things to focus on during patrols, and you let out a sigh as you ran down the backway of the nearly empty streets. 

The heavy man who had been bound up with a decently made gag and one of Bruce’s fancy tech pieces (Batcuffs, maybe? Something else with Bat smacked in front of it?) grunted beside you. 

“What? Not like you had someplace to be.” You grabbed the back of his rather tacky-looking spandex suit to drag him along back to where your mentor was supposed to be.

Despite your (many) disagreements and his (many) criticisms of your hand-to-hand combat skills, attitude issues, and pretty much everything else relating to you, Bruce had actually still allowed you to go off on your own tonight. It might’ve been because he wanted a few hours of nothing but beating up petty criminals by himself for stress-relief, it might’ve been because he had started trying out that whole independence thing with you a little more (even though you were still only permitted to be about five blocks or so away), it might’ve been plot-convenience - but either way, you appreciated the gesture.

It didn’t take long for you to pull your new friend over to what should’ve been your rendezvous point with Batman, letting the man drop with a dull thud and a grunt of protest against the concrete as you glanced around for the other man. You weren’t particularly concerned by the fact that the Bat himself wasn’t there yet - after all, he was the goddamn Batman. He’d show up eventually. In the meanwhile, you decided to go over the information you had gotten on the criminal with you. 

Just for the sake of it. Bruce would make you go over it anyways.

“Drury Walker, thirty-two years old, found him trying to mug someone in a back alley and make an escape. Called himself…” you paused, looking down at his sorry-looking outfit for a few moments while he looked up at you with murder and vengence in his eyes. “...Killer Moth.”  

“Killer Moth?” A completely new voice repeated in disbelief, causing you to immediately whirl around to face them in a fight stance, heart racing at a million miles per hour. The guy in front of you had his hands up in the air, his face concealed with some sort of red knock-off Iron Man helmet. He was gonna get copyrighted by Marvel Studios. “Shit, sorry,” he started at the sight of you, still leaning up against one of the walls. “I was supposed to make a wholeass dramatic entrance, but you said his name was Killer Moth and that-” The man made a noise that was either a sharp cough or a laugh of some kind. “-sounded so fucking lame I couldn’t help myself.” 

Despite the fact that you were definitely in some sort of major trouble with this new guy, he really did have a point. Even Killer Moth himself would’ve been embarrassed by how trash his name was, if not for the fact that he looked like he was on the verge of an aneurysm - understandably so, since the new guy had produced not one, but two guns out of apparently nowhere. 

“And let me guess,” he continued, pointing one of them at your head, his tone still all-too light and easy. “You must be the Bat’s brand-new Robin.” 

Now this is where most people would've shut up and proceeded to be complicit with the dude holding two guns. But Batman hadn’t seen reason and made you his (sort of) partner because you were like other people. Hell no.

“Do I look like a traffic signal to you?” It had been the very first of your amendments with Bruce. You would not be fighting crime looking like a literal traffic signal or, at best, a clown from Haly’s Circus. And the tiny green shorts had to go. “Or Robin Hood?” The guy had a rather awkward pause where his gun sort of dipped. Killer Moth was looking between you with wide eyes. “Do I?” 

“I guess you kinda got a point.” You huffed and he raised his gun again, getting more in-your-face as his already angry-looking helmet somehow managed to look angrier. You weren’t exactly sure how a helmet could convey so much emotion. “But you work with Batman. And I heard you went by Robin.” 

Okay, so you couldn’t make him change the name, but you had agreed it would be more of an honorary thing.

“It’s complicated.” 

Using such a phrase as an excuse to escape from situations you didn’t want to go into was one of the many things you had learned from Bruce in your five months of training. Somehow, that seemed to trigger the guy further.

“So you do work with Batman.” 

Before he could do something actually insane, you had managed to push the gun pointed at your head away from you, using his brief second of surprise to take it out of his hands, kick him in the chest, and round back on him with it in hand. 

“And what about it?” 

As cool as you thought you might’ve sounded didn’t cover for the fact that you were still nerve-wracked about what was happening right then. Especially after the guy started to dramatically slow-clap like some sort of evil thespian in a high school drama. 

“Not bad, Robin. Not bad.” He looked at the gun in your hands and grinned. “If you weren’t Batman’s new replacement sidekick, I might’ve believed you had the balls to use that thing.” 

Now, you were an excellent fighter. You had to be, after your excessive training with the guy who had literally mastered about every martial art in existence during his (give or take) five year-long mission to find himself. Plus, some personal experience. But fighting someone like this guy? Built like a tank and padded up in a whole lot of armor and packing an assortment of knives, guns, and even a damn taser you got a first-hand taste of?

You fought hard, but about five minutes and another round of the taser later, you saw the knock-off Iron Man helmet staring down at you before the world went black.

~*~

You woke up in what you assumed was the self-dubbed Red Hood’s safehouse of sorts. 

“How the hell did he rope you into this shit?” he demanded with what you could only assume was him glaring at you through the helmet. Probably some expression that made someone look all angsty and annoyed - which was fair, since he had been trying to drill you for information you straight up refused to give while bound (way too tightly) to a chair for quite some time now. Rather rude. “Let me guess. You watched your parents die.” You stared at him before shrugging.

“Nope.”

“Oh, so they just went ahead and died somehow. Untimely accident caused by some psycho bitch in a Spirit Halloween costume.”

“…nope.” 

“They abandoned you as a child.”

“No, they didn’t - does divorce count?” 

Red Hoodlum’s hands kept clenching and unclenching while he stood there, staring at the wall behind you in silence. From the way his chest kept rising and falling, you were tempted to believe he was practicing breathing exercises amidst his rather violent twitching. 

“Divorce - what the hell is your trauma supposed to be? Why did he pick you?!”

“Hey, just because my trauma doesn’t include people dying doesn’t make it any less traumatic,” you scoffed in response, knowing you were absolutely right about that. Your middle school guidance counselor had said so (and it’s true, ladies and gentlemen, trauma comes in many forms!). “Kinda rude to assume it didn’t affect me somehow.”

He seemed rather abashed at that and you heard him clear his throat a little. 

“...right, yeah. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted - can you loosen these ropes a little? It’s starting to kinda hurt.” 

“Do I look ten? That’s the oldest trick in the book, I’m not gonna-”

“I’m not going to run, just loosen the ropes a little.” He still looked like he didn’t believe you. “Come on, I don’t think I can outrun your guns.” As in his literal array of guns tacked up to the wall behind him, not his gigantic biceps. 

And you weren’t too worried about being held hostage by him, either. You figured you had ten minutes tops before Batman burst in through the doorway, ready to give you a lecture on why straying from the specifically designated parts of Gotham he had let you traipse around was a terribly stupid idea. 

“No.” He was already walking towards the door, because apparently, he had enough of trying to interrogate you. 

“Hold on, I feel like my wrists are actually about to start bleeding or something - where are you going?”

“Keep talking and I’m gonna get the duct tape.” 

“Is that a threat?” Sounding more confident than you actually felt should eventually make you more confident. Eventually. 

The Red Hood sucked in a breath, stopping by the doorway and turning to face you, reaching into his pockets to get what you assumed was either a gun or duct tape when you both startled from a sudden crash. The man in front of you was already whirling around with two guns positioned to shoot when you heard the familiar voice of someone else.

“Hold your fire, soldier. I’m not here for you.” A pause. “Or I wasn’t, but now I kind of am.”

Apparently, Batman was too busy to save you. Now, you got Nightwing. 

And as much as you liked Nightwing, that still kinda stung. 

[workingwithhermes]

20th April 2022

In the morning, I had been watching Moon Knight with my roommate, and decided to open my mind to speaking with Khonshu.

In the early afternoon, I had just finished reading a Moon Knight comic, and listening to Amoeba by the Doozers, when I felt a presence, and a smell came into my room. It smelled like deodorant or shampoo, kind of sandalwood and pear. I thought it was my roommate, so I turned around and found nobody there. The feeling didn’t go away, and I felt myself go freezing, and there was a weight on me as though there was someone stood with their chest to my back. I called for Hermes, but it didn’t feel like him, it was unfriendly. My head went vague and fuzzy and then it was gone, though it feels like it’s still in this room. I’ve felt a tiredness pass over me, though i don’t want to let myself sleep until this feeling has gone away.

After speaking to this spirit and completing a tarot reading both with them and with Hermes, I am led to believe it is an ancient Egyptian deity. This makes sense, as I opened myself to talk with Khonshu after watching Moon Knight. However, the spirit confirmed that it was not Khonshu, which leads me to believe that it could be Thoth, as they are both gods of the moon, but at different stages in the cycle.

Furthermore, Thoth’s connections to death could explain the unease with which I felt his presence.

Thoth also carries many of the same responsibilities as Hermes, which would make him an optimal deity to work with.

The results of the tarot reading are as follows:

Thoth

Why are you here?

King of Pentacles: Wisdom, intelligence, mathematical gifts

Thoth was the Egyptian god of wisdom, mathematics, and the sciences

Who are you?

9 of Swords: Death, failure, delay, deception, disappointment, despair

Thoth worked with Ma’at to judge the dead, making notes of whose heart weighed correctly against a feather.

What are your intentions with me?

7 of cups: Fairy favours, sentiment, imagination, reflection

Thoth was a problem solver, working with deities to manage day to day issues and encourage humans to reflect on the ways they were living.

Hermes

What do you believe their intentions were?

Rev. 4 of cups: Novelty, new instructions, new revelations

I believe this means Hermes believes Thoth will bring me onto a new path if I choose to pursue this connection. new revelations will be made in my choices and my life.

Who was it?

The Magician: Skill, diplomacy, subtlety, sickness, self-confidence

According to Hermes, he didn’t know this deity previously; due to Thoth’s knowledge and diplomatic duties, it’s extremely likely that this is how he came across to Hermes.

Should we allow them back?

Queen of cups: Honest, loving. Loving intelligence, a perfect spouse and a good mother.

Hermes believes that Thoth has good intentions and is caring for me in a motherly way. 

These results heighten my belief that this could be Thoth; I’d like to research the ways in which other people work with Thoth and the potential benefits to welcoming him into my life, however I am content with working with Hermes temporarily.

[schrijverr]

Promises You Made to Me

Chapter 1 out 3

Aragorn falls for Boromir on their journey. When they realize they share their affection, they also know that the time is not now to act upon them. Both promise to share love once they see the quest done, a promise that long seems a broken oath. Still, the horn was heard in more lands and the Elves have not yet forsaken this world

A Boromir lives AU where they fall in love before Boromir falls at Amon Hen, but Aragorn only learns of his survival after the defeat of Sauron.

On AO3.

Ships: Aragorn x Boromir

Warnings: thinking someone died, injury

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1: I Can’t Promise You Fair Sky Above

It was hard not to like Boromir, Aragorn had soon found. Despite their introduction and the vast amount of unspoken issues between them, he could not help but like the Son of Gondor.

The man spoke of his home easily and with much enthusiasm, keeping the Hobbits entertained with stories from his youth and history. He walked without complaining, making sure everyone could walk with him and watching over them steadily when it was his turn.

He was always ready to lend a helping hand and Aragorn appreciated how he would help think about the next step and wasn’t afraid to speak his mind and offer insight or protest when he thought a foolishdecision was being made.

Not only that, but he had taken up the duty to teach the Hobbits to fight. Merry and Pippin took the most interest in the craft and it was a joy to see Boromir in his element when he taught them. He would grin and a proud aura would surround him.

Boromir kept the spirits high and was unmissable when muscle was needed.

It didn’t hurt that he was not bad to look at eitherand Aragorn found his eyes often wanderingto Gondor’s finest. Though he would look away when their eyes met, for he felt guilty about the reason behind his gaze, since Boromir was a Lord and not someone for Aragorn to gawk at.

However, it didn’t come as a surprise that Boromir had noticed this. He was a trained soldier and was aware of how to read people at a court. So one day, he came up to Aragorn keeping watch and sat down, saying nothing for a short moment.

“I know I did not make the best impression when we first met, but I had not realized that my behavior caused this much strife between us,” Boromir opened. “I apologize. I hope we can move past this.”

Aragorn still looked up in surprise. He had not realized that this was how Boromir would interpret his gazes and it startled him for a moment. “Yes, I see your gazes,” Boromir chuckled sadly when he saw Aragorn’s reaction. “I’m no Ranger, but I know when someone is avoiding my eyes.”

Quickly gathering his bearings, Aragorn replied: “I- It was not my intent. I do not have hard feelings about our introduction, I know I cannot ask blind following when I have not been present in Gondor. Legolas gets ahead of himself.”

“Ah.” It was clear Boromir had not expected that reply and he took a moment to rethink his strategy. “Well, then I do hope we can come to some agreement in companionship. Unless there is another reason for your avoidance of my company...” he trailed off, not in question, but in request of Aragorn to speak up if there was something else bothering him that prohibited any further friendship.

“No. No, there is not,” Aragorn said, for there was no reason to deny Boromir’s friendship, save for his heart speeding up as he felt Boromir heat beside him.

“I am glad,” Boromir smiled and Aragorn thought to himself: ‘I had not yet seen him smile at me before now. I should change that. It is a very good smile. His eyes crinkle and the feeling of kinship comes to mind when I look upon it.’ And what else could he do, but smile back?

The smile still lingered on his face as he looked back out into the wild for threats and it did not seem to leave until sleep claimed him once his watch was over. Since Boromir had watch after him, hedecided to keep him company until that time came.

As they sat next to their camp, keeping watch in the day for they only traveled through the night, they talked of such normal things that the contrast with their mission seemed absurd.

Boromir, for example, recalled the drunken tale of him and his brother, who had left a farmer very confused as of why his goats had bows upon their horns. In turn, Aragorn told Boromir of his foster-sister Arwen using him in a plot against their brothers, for they dared not to turn against the youngest of them all, who they viewed as innocent and how the he and Arwen had used that against them for manyyears.

It was a merry hour and it saddened Aragorn to see it over. But he did not deem it wise to stay seated next to Boromir any longer, since looking at him with a reason, made it harder to look away when there was none.

The other man was hypnotizing in a way Aragorn had not encountered before. He was sturdy in his frame, open in his manner, both smiling easy, while hiding a thousand burdens in his eyes that Aragorn longed to understand, but did not feel entitled to unwrap.

Looking at Boromir seemed both simple and too complex.

Aragorn yearned for a friendship with the other, a relation beyond mere traveling companions, but he did not know how to keep it a friendship, nor how he should hold himself around Boromir whilst knowing that at one point in their journey, he might become Boromir’s King.

Was it wrong for a King to look upon one of his subject with more affection than platonic? Most Kings did not marry out of love, but politics. And in dark times like these,would allowing the possibility be wise?

Questions Aragorn did not know how to answer kept him busy while they marched ever closer to the Misty Mountains over which they would have to travel.

During their journey, Boromir was frequently closer than before, choosing to walk at the rear alongside Aragorn and sitting next to him during the small leisure time they had.

And when Boromir was close, he had the tendency to talk. It was something most of the Fellowship had noticed early on, but the Son of Gondor did not like the silent marches and would often strike up conversation or talk to everyone in general, leaving it up to his audience whether they would listen or tune him out.

When Boromir talked, Aragorn often found himself amongst the ones who listened. Boromir had a nice, soothing voice that was great for telling tales of splendor, while at times being near philosophical as he pondered the goings of the world in times like these.

Listening to Boromir was both stupid and smart, for if he listened, he would not have to talk and mess things up, but listening made the affection he already harbored for the other grow.

Where he had first believed Boromir to be more muscle than brain, he was soon disproven. From his tales it became clear that Boromir had a sharp mind. He was a sound strategist and he easily weaved in the social complexities of history into the tales he told of the valor of Gondor.

It was interesting to talk to Boromir and Aragorn did so gladly. He found himself talking of his own home and the Dúnedain as well as the way of the Elves that housed him for so long along with his days as a Ranger. And while he talked, Boromir listened.

That was another factor he had not counted on when he had first met Boromir. The man had seemed steadfast in his own ways, stubborn to a fault and unwilling to listen when needed. Yet, here he was disproven once more.

Boromir would remember little details conversations later and recalledpeople that Aragorn had mentioned sparsely before. Aragorn did not know this was a skill the Steward’s Son had picked up as Captain, for men are more willing to follow you into battle when they know you care about their well being and person.

So, they both talked and both listened, until Aragorn sought out Boromir’s company of his own accord. He had not noticed he did so, until he came back from gathering edible plants and found that the seat next to Boromir had been saved for him, since it was his usual place in the camp.

It made him still for a moment, before walking on and settling down, focusing more on dinner than his company that evening.

And that night as they walked, he was amongst the ones tuning out as Boromir started his talking again. At this point he must have recited his entire military career, moved through much of Gondor’s history of the Third Age and gotten to know everyone’s life. Aragorn now knew more of the Toby Leaf’s history than he ever thought was needed for one, but Merry had been happy to explain in detailand Boromir had listened equally content.

But Aragorn did not know which tales he graced them with that night, for his mind was wondering when he had become so close with Boromir.

He did not recall when he got used to settling down next to Boromir every day, nor when listening to Boromir became more important to him than listening for threats, but he found it to be true. The affection he had for Boromir had blossomed into natural closeness.

At first he thought that the embers of a crush he had before, were nowextinguished ashe got to know the other man and form a friendship with him. Upon closer inspection of his feelings, however, he found instead that the opposite was true.

The speeding of his heart had become normal whenever Boromir was near and he felt the heat upon his cheeks with every grin send his way. His feelings had shifted, sure, but they had shifted from attraction to a deeper affection. He had become more infatuated with Boromir through their friendship.

It was a startling discovery, for while Aragorn was used to appreciating the physique of those around him, it did not often happen that he was enthralled beyond their features.

Yet here he was and he had discovered that it was not just Boromir’s strong arms or handsome face that kept him ensnared. Instead it was the crinkles around his eyes when he smiled, the gleam in his eyes when he talked, the softness when he listened and the comfort in his presence. He cherished their talks more than their practice fights.

He caught Legolas’ eyes and the Elf smiled quietly, eyes quickly flitting between Aragorn and Boromir, before turning away. It would seem others had caught on quicker to the will of his heart than he himself.

When Legolas held watch that day, Aragorn checked to see if those around them were asleep. With Boromir laid next to him, it was easy to determine his steady breaths as true.

“So there is still time for old friends, I see,” Legolas jested, mirth in his eyes when Aragorn sat down next to him. Aragorn looked away in shame, for he had not realized how much he had been ignoring the Elf.

“Do not be so dour, Aragorn,” said Legolas. “No one here blames you for being drawn to the Son of Gondor. And your oblivion has been my entertainment for the past weeks. It’s been long since a story like this has beenwritten.”

Aragorn glared at Legolas and huffed. “No story like this is being written, for it would not be just for a King to look upon his Steward like this.”

“I did not know you had accepted your destiny, my friend.”

“I- I don’t. I haven’t,” Aragorn protested. “But it is a path we might walk on, no matter our beliefs or desires and if that is to become my future, I should know better than to act like there is something owed to me that is not. I will not put him in a position where his choices are to ignore the wishes of his King or do something he does not want to.”

Legolas was quiet for a moment, mind processing Aragorns outburst. Then he smirked: “I do not think he’ll be doing anythinghe does not want to, if you were to ask him.”

“What?” Aragorn looked up in shock. He had not detected any reciprocation in the eyes of Boromir, just friendly affection that he shared with everyone of the Fellowship.

“You are blind,” Legolas sounded surprised. “For one who claimsElven decent and senses beyond normal men, you havenot seen that Boromir loves you too?”

He had not yet used the word love to describe his affection for Boromir, though the word had been echoing in his mind, but he did not think it wise to use that word, for it made what he had been attempting to avoid more real.

“I do not, nor does he,” he answered. “And we know my senses were not meant for internal factors, but threats.”

“If my Elf eyes are not mistaken, you have not been watching for many threats as of late, my friend,” Legolas had again that knowing look in his eyes and Aragorn found that he did not care much for that look upon his friend’s face.

“You do not know what you are talking about, Legolas.” It was a pitiful attempt at deflection and Aragorn knew it.

Legolas raised a pointed brow, but said no more of it, save: “We both know that is a lie, but I shall not further pressure you, for it is clear to me that you are not ready for it.”

And after that he stayed true to his word and said no more during his watch of Boromir, no matter if it was Aragorn, who opened up the topic. Instead choosing to comment on the landscape and the many nature wonders he had seen on this journey.

Aragorn did not try then, just taking the opportunity to talk to his friend, but the conversation had left much on his mind.

Did Boromir carry the same affection?

He did not think so. Still he watched Boromir carefully as they climbed the Caradhras. The man did not act differently than before, he walked with Merry and Pippin, making sure the two Hobbits did not falter. From time to time, he looked back, checking the rear like a good Captain would, smiling when his gaze met Aragorn’s.

Much to his embarrassment, he found that he smiled back without thinking whenever it happened. So, he focused on Frodo in front of him, the Ring-bearer should be his biggest priority.

Still it was hard not to let his gaze wander back every time. It was a strange thing to look to Boromir like he was a puzzle instead of his friend. He did not know which clues to look for, there were not tracks for him to read and he found himself thrust into unknown territory.

He started to wonder whether Boromir’s gaze on him was the same as the gaze he had for the Hobbits, a glance to ensure they were okay. Or if it were a gaze for Aragorn alone, one of special weight, with deeper meaning.

Aragorn could not decipher it. After all he had seen in his life so far, this was the mystery that stumped him. No matter what Legolas said, he could not see in Boromir’s eyes what had seemed obvious to the Elf.

It was a frustration, he did not know how to deal with.

Much to his chagrin, or maybe not (he did not know how he felt about it), Boromir noticed. It was even more frustrating that that was the only part he was able to pick up on in regards of Boromir, the fact that the man noticed he was watching him.

He loathed a confrontation that might come of it, so he kept close to others of the Fellowship, hoping that being with another person would discourage conversation about the topic.

Luckily, despite the misfortune, the topic was soon of the least import in their mind, for the evil will of the mountain had turned against them. Snow came down heavily and soon they had to cease their ascent and wait until they could turn back.

Boromir kept Merry and Pippin close, pulling his cloak around the three of them as they huddled close to the fire. Aragorn did the same with Frodo and Sam. Boromir had not lied when he’d called outthat this would be the death of the Hobbits.

If they made it through, it would be a miracle. This was a truth that was heavily felt throughout the entire Fellowship and it was not the moment to talk about trivial things as a few extra gazes. So instead Boromir tried to keep up the Hobbits’ spirits by telling them of the snow men he and his brother had build in the past and the epic snow battles they held.

As was custom, Aragorn couldn't help but listen, smile stretching over his face as the image of a young Boromir, already thinking himself a great Captain, leadinga charge in the snow came to his mind.

Soon the Hobbits’ slept, but the two men could not rest, for they feared that if they did not keep watch, their fickle lives would slip through their fingers.

So they sat in the cold of the mountain, counting the hours until the snow let up enough to turn back, a tactical retreat as Boromir called it. He also spoke again of going through the Gap of Rohan and again Aragorn had to refuse.

“The Gap is too dangerous a road to take now, Boromir,” he said.

“And this is not dangerous? Was it not folly to try this mountain? We are snowed under and our Ring-bearer might not make it through. Was this not a mistake?” Boromir countered. “And what other road can we take?”

Aragorn understood Boromir’s frustrations. From a tactical standpoint it would seem wise to seek out allies, for their road was already full of perils and a place to replenish strength would be a good place in the eye of any captain.

But they did not know how far the hand of Saruman had reached in those lands and they could not risk exposing more hearts to the clutches of the Ring. It would be unwise to think they would be safe in those lands.

Now just to make Boromir see that.

“Our road is dangerous, yes,” Aragorn said. “And this was a risk we should not have taken, but the Gap of Rohan is a risk we cannot take also. Saruman has betrayed us and it is not worth it to test how well he protects his borders.”

“I do not hear you offer another road. We also cannot risk staying on this side of the Misty Mountains. We have to cross.”

Aragorn had no answer to that, but he did not have to, for Gimli answered: “There is another road that we can take. We can go through the Mines of Moria.”

Both looked up in surprise. They had not realized anyone was listening to their conversation and having the private moment broken up startled them. So they said nothing as Gandalf replied: “I have told you before, Master Dwarf, that I hope to avoid that passage, but it will be up to the Ring-bearer to decide.” And both stayed silent after those words.

The next morning Frodo decided their fate and Boromir and Aragorn busied themselves with clearing a path back through the snow.

Neither said a word to the other, both too exhausted by their labor and unwilling to talk. Though, much to his dismay, Aragorn found himself getting distracted by Boromir doing his part and would sometimes have to be snapped back to work when Boromir looked his way.

Still, they made it off the Caradhras and safely down to the entrance Gandalf did not agree with, which made Aragorn uneasy, though he tried not to show it.

His unease was validated by the Watcher, lurking in the water. Yet, he was glad, for it was Boromir at his side when he charged and he knew Boromir would not falter in the face of this danger and have his back.

And in the darkness of the Mines, it was Boromir once more that eased his mind. He was there with him as they walked through thepitch black and while Gandalf had urged them to be quiet, it was the familiar steady footfalls of Boromir that kept Aragorn focused on the road ahead.

They had not spoken again since the Caradhras peak, but despite Aragorn’s attempts to avoid any lone conversation, it was during his watch that Boromir came to him once more. He was aware that Boromir used strategy of trapping him while on watch and he couldn't help but smile at the tactic solution Boromir had for such a simple thing.

“First you have been looking at me, then you have been avoiding me. I do not know what I have done to earn your suspicions, but any ill willed accusations you have of me, say out loud, for I am not welcoming of this backhanded wariness.”

Again, it would seem, Boromir had misinterpreted his gazes and again Aragorn found himself having to choose between Boromir’s hurt or opening a bit of his heart. It was an easy choice to make.

“I do not distrust you, Boromir. You are a dependableally and I am grateful for your presence.”

“Then why do you avoid me? Why do you first stare only to avert your gaze a moment later? You smile at me only to fight me then evade me after. What am I to think of that?”

Aragorn was glad for the darkness, for he did not think he could have lied, if he had seen Boromir’s gaze restheavily on him. And he did not think he could have been honest, when looking into those piercing eyes.

“It is not easy, Boromir. I might become a King one day, but I do not wish for that to be my fate, for my blood is that of a weak man, who gave in to corruption. Yet it seems that I am the one of my bloodline that is to reclaim the throne. It is difficult for me to know how to act around you and getting a glimpse of who my people are, is confusing at times.”

Boromir was quiet, the words churning in his head. The he hesitantly said: “Are you judging our people based of me? Am I an assessment to decide if you’ll go through with you destiny? Because I care not for being a pawn, when you have done nothing to protect Gondor and her beauty.”

This was not how Aragorn had envisioned thisconfrontation to go. His mind scrambled for something to say, so that he would not lose the companionship he had with Boromir. In that moment he cursed his cowardliness that had made him lie and not tell Boromir the truth.

“No, Boromir. No, that was not my intent with my words. I- Let me think how to explain,” he begged. “I hold you in high regard, but I know you do not wish to see me on the throne of Gondor. If more think like you, then I do not see why it is my destiny to take a throne no one wants me to have. I know not what you think of me nor how I am to act around you and it seems my attempts to try and figure it out have not been as subtle as I had hoped,” he finished helplessly.

Again Boromir was quiet and Aragorn braced himself for whatever reaction he would get from the Captain. Then, softly at first, then a bit chocked as Boromir tried to quiet himself, he started to laugh.

Relief washed over Aragorn at the first sounds of the joyful giggles, though confusion was on his mind for he knew not what humor Boromir found in his explanation.

“I- I apologize,” he finally got control of himself. “There is no humor in your attempts to try and better understand your position in the world. I merely find amusement in how we manage to misinterpret one another yet again. And the fact that a skilled Ranger such as yourself has difficulty with the subtlety of signs, you would think came normally.”

The latter part was obviously a jest and Aragorn found himself flushing at the teasing, once again grateful for the darkness that cloaked him.

He chuckled as well and said: “It would seem so. The tracks of people’s faces are quite different than those of animals in the ground.” Then he got serious once more. “I do not know, if I’ll fare well in a court with my skills.”

“I think you’ll fare as well as any man,” Boromir said. “Maybe even better. If you truly want to know my thoughts, then I think you have much to learn, or maybe much to show you already can do, before you are ready.”

“Aye?” While it had not been his primary reason, now that Boromir was offering, he was curious for any input to the other issues that had been plaguing his mind.

“It is clear that you are a great warrior, though I have not yet seen you in a proper battle, nor with men under your command. I have not seen you negotiate, though I have seen at the Counsel that you are willing to listen to those with expertise. I know not how you will be with the people of Gondor, nor that you know of her customs, but you seem to listen to my tales, so there must be a willingness to learn,” said Boromir. “For now, you are too much on an unknown, who has not been there for Gondor in her darkest days. I cannot judge you wholly, but you have earned my respect and I am also grateful for your presence.”

Aragorn thought that a just assessment. He had told Boromir that he did not expect blind following when he had done nothing to earn it and it would be fair to say that Boromir did not need to see him as King until he had proven himself worthy of the title.

“Thank you for telling me, I will try my best to get ready for the burdens that come with a title I might one day carry,” he said. “It is good to have you here, Son of Gondor.”

He could not see Boromir smile, but the bump of their shoulders was friendly and it was audible in his voice when he spoke: “You’re as much a Son of Gondor as I am, Aragorn, but I still welcome your efforts. I will not gift my City lightly.”

“Will you tell me more of her people?” Aragorn asked. He was not sure if the question came from genuine interest or because he wanted to please Boromir and liked listening to his stories.

Still the gesture was appreciated. “I will, but only if you promise to tell me more about yourself. I am quite curious about the Ranger of the North that dwelt in Elven courts.”

And to that, Aragorn agreed. There in the darkness of the Mines of Moria, with no other indication of the other beside light touches and the warmth that the other radiated, they talked softly.

Boromir told him of the markets, the people of the lands, the Lords in their mansions and the soldiers when in their barracks. In every word he spoke, Aragorn could hear the fierce love Boromir held for his people. He heard how Boromir was not just a prince in a castle, but a man of the people, who loved him dearly for that. He got swept up in Boromir’s tales and a part of him wanted to see the City as Boromir described it, instead of the one he had seen long ago.

Aragorn supplemented Boromir’s stories with tales of his own. Small stories of the people of Bree and his fellow kinsmen, who protected the North. It was easy to talk to Boromir as he had long since discovered. Boromir was approachable and likable.

In fact, it was hard to keep much from him. It was as if he subconsciously interrogated you, easing your mind while asking probing questions. And Aragorn found himself wanting to tell Boromir the less than proper thoughts that had been on his mind.

“Boromir, I-” He did not finished the sentence, unsure of what to say. ‘Boromir, I actually have been in love with you since Rivendell? I thought you were merely attractive at first, but you’re also kind and I cannot help but fall for you? I’m afraid to become King, because then it would be more stupid for me to love you?’

It seemed he had been quiet for too long, for Boromir inquired: “Aragorn?” with concern tinting his voice.

“Oh, uhm, well-” he started out once more, mind torn between telling Boromir it was nothing or confessing. He never got to choose, because the sound of a stone falling into the well came from behind them and soon the armies of Moria were upon them.

They fought, they won, they ran, they lost.

Gandalf fell and for a while grief and getting further was all that Aragorn could think off. Boromir was on his radar, but more as someone to keep everyone going and watch the rear as Aragorn now had to lead.

It was much later, in Lothlórien that they even considered talking normally again.

“Take some rest. These borders are well protected.” Aragorn did not like Boromir’s posture, normally so proud and tall, now miserable. He wanted to ask what was plaguing his mind, but he did not dare for it was not his place.

“I will find no rest here,” said Boromir, stubborn set of jaw, yet anxious in his speech. “I heard her voice inside my head. She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor. She said to me ‘even now there is hope left.’ But I cannot see it.”

Aragorn’s heart clenched for the utter hopelessness that was in Boromir’s voice and he wondered what had happened that had made Boromir so distrustful in the hope of others.

“It is long since we had any hope. My father is a noble man, but his rule is failing and our people loose faith.” It was clear Boromir was partially talking to himself and needed someone to listen to him more than someone to talk with, “He looks to me to make things right and- and I would do it. I would see the glory of Gondor restored.”

The burden that Boromir carried was clear, though he seemed to cover it up by want. As if he was proud for the weight on his shoulder, not willing to acknowledge that it was too much and Aragorn did not know how to ease it.

Boromir took a breath. “Have you ever seen it, Aragorn? The White Tower of Ecthelion, glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver, its banners caught high in the morning breeze. Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?”

“I have seen the White City. Long ago.” Aragorn sensed that Boromir needed a bit of familiarity, someone, who could understand his home. While Aragorn was not wholly that person, he longed to be it, so he tried.

“One day, our paths will lead us there and the tower guard shall take up the call: The Lords of Gondor have returned.” There was again that glimmer in Boromir’s eyes when he spoke of his home and Aragorn’s heart gave a fond beat, wanting to keep that look there. “One day we will,” he agreed, “but it might not be for many months that we may do so.”

Boromir looked desolate again. “No, it might not be.”

“Hold your head high, Lord Steward. Our road may not lead to Minas Tirith, yet we do serve her and her protection,” he said. “You’ll see your home in due time.”

“Aye, you are right, Aragorn. Still, my heart tells me that I will not see my home as it is now ever again and my fears would have me believe that the next time I see it, it will be in ruin,” Boromir confessed. “There is not much else to think now that our wisest member has fallen. What chance is there to succeed now?”

While he had not dared to ask what was plaguing Boromir’s mind, the man had offered up the answers himself. Now Aragorn was left with a raw soul that he could not soothe. He could only offer platitudes. “We will try our best to do what we set out to do,” he replied, knowing it was nothing.

“That is your answer? We’ll walk into our death, for there is no other road you’ll consider?” Boromir asked, bitter anger dripping from his tongue. “What more do we have to loose before you realize this is folly?”

On a rational level he could understand that this anger came from the grief of losing Gandalf, but his mind was not ready for the rational and he snapped back: “I am not a punching bag for your grief, Boromir, son of Denethor. I know your opinionsand just because you are hurting over the loss of Gandalf, does not mean that I am not. I miss him, he was my friend. But he is gone now and I will see his will through to the end, no matter how much I love yo-”

He cut himself off, eyes becoming big as he had realized the revelation that had plunged from his lips in his moment of upset. He had never meant to tell Boromir. He had decided so when the darkness claimed their leader. There was too much to loose and he could not risk getting more attached. It was only grief fueled anger that made him confess.

“…Aragorn.” Boromir had equally wide eyes as he reached out to him, but his fingers never touched the arm that was quickly retreated, for Aragorn fled.

Behind him Boromir called out again, but his attempts to follow were made in vain, since Aragorn was more familiar in Elven lands and his longer legs with long strides carried him away. He could not believe how foolish he had been, nor how he would face Boromir or the rest of the Fellowship again.

Swiftly he walked through strange, yet comforting woods, until a small alcove hid him from prying eyes that would notjudge his tears to be from something other than grief.

Today he had made another mistake to go upon his list of regrets. Boromir did not love him, he was still on trial to become a King, love would not be considered by Gondor’s favourite Son. It was but a wishful dream in his mind and now he would have to endure the rest of this quest, with painful distance and obvious rejection.

It hurt more than he had expected, even if he had prepared himself for loving in silence. Not knowing if it could ever be, was less hurtful than knowing that even if everything had been different, it still would not come to pass.

He curled up into himself, reminiscent of hiding in the halls of Rivendell when he had been upset as a boy.

Of course, in Rivendell Arwen or Elrond or even Elladan or Elrohir would come find him and cheer him up, but there was no one to cheer him up here. He was all alone once more and the crushing loneliness had never felt more prominent.

He had not wanted to tell Boromir, for he feared he’d get too attached that it would cloud his judgment. However, a part of him had known it was too late and he was already attached to the smile of Gondor’s finest. Now, he just had to bear the fact that the smile had never been for him at all.

Why had he let his emotions get the better of him? He should know better as Isildur’s heir, he should have learned that desiring something did not mean he got to keep it. Was he not meant to learn from the mistakes of his forebears?

What if this ruined the quest? What if his mouth got them all in trouble and the rift between him and Boromir would never truly heal? What if Boromir would not have his back anymore, now that he knew what was in Aragorn’s heart?

Aragorn let himself linger in the halls of doubt that were inside his mind, never realizing that he had never confirmed his rejection before he fled.

So it came to be that familiar footsteps broke Aragorn out of his exile of self-pity when it was already far too late to turn back. He still attempted to do so, but before he could flee, a heavy hand stopped him in his tracks. “Please stay for a moment, Aragorn.”

And Aragorn stayed, for he had not yet mastered the art of saying no to Boromir on the little things regarding himself.

He sat Aragorn back down onto his seat and took the one next to it. Boromir was quiet for one antagonizing moment, before in an unsure voice he spoke: “I do not know if it was but a trick you are playing on me, but your reaction to your own words seemed genuine enough that I am inclined to believe them to be true. Would that be correct, Aragorn?”

Boromir stayed quiet and it became clear to Aragorn that he was indeed waiting for an answer. After a moment’s hesitation, Aragorn softly confessed: “Aye.”

“Then why did you run?” Boromir asked.

Aragorn snapped his head his way and fixed Boromir with a glare. “Do you really have to ask?”

“Aye, I want to understand, Aragorn.” Why did he have to sound so earnest?

“Because, I might become your King one day, Boromir. Because you would have to choose whether you shall obey me or defy me, while you know not whether you shall accept me as a King at all. I cannot expect my feelings to be reproached when you still need to judge my worth. Not to mention the dangers of the road. I cannot love you only to loose you, Boromir.”

Once he had started speaking, he found it hard to stop and Boromir listened attentively as was his custom. For once Aragorn did not know whether he was grateful for the quality or if he wished Boromir would shut out the too honest words.

When all the words that had been bottled up inside him had deserted him, he breathed heavily and awaited Boromir’s response.

“You are a fool, Aragorn.” At this Aragorn winced. “You are a fool to think that I would judge my King by the same standard as my lovers. You have earned my respect long ago, my affections maybe earlier. And I am not of the kind that will do something against their will. As I offer myself to you, know that I mean it wholly.”

Aragorn looked up in shock and Boromir chuckled at his face. “Yes, Aragorn. I never indented to act upon it, but it is hard not to fall for your charm. The tales of your exploits in Lord Elrond’s Halls make me smile fondly and your tracking skills make me awe. You also are closer to being my King than you believe, I just wish to see Gondor in good hands. I hope you can forgive me for that.”

“Of course.” It was easier to react to the part least concerned with his heart while his mind spun to incorporate this new information. “I- I can’t- I can’t loose you, Boromir,” he repeated.

“I know, Aragorn. I know,” Boromir said. “It would kill me to see you gone as welland I know not how to proceed from here. I would have you as mine, if the time was so not dark and the hour not so pressing.”

He leaned his shoulder against Aragorn’s and Aragorn rested his head upon it, his hand clasping Boromir’s. If he could be granted a wish, he would have wished to be in that moment forever, his body warm against Boromir’s as he thought. Secure that in the quiet, Boromir loved him.

Then he slowly moved to loosen the clasp of his necklace, before gently gifting it to Boromir’s neck, fastening the clasp with tenderness. “This was given to me by Arwen,” he explained. “It is so that I would not forget the Elven Halls that were my home.”

“Aragorn, I cannot take this,” protested Boromir.

“It is mine to give to whom I will, like my heart. And Igive this to you as a promise,” Aragorn pressed on. “I promise that I will try to see this quest through alive and keep you alive through it also. I swear by this that once our land is safe, we can try to see what can happen between us in times of peace.”

There were tears pricking in Boromir’s eyes, for he knew Aragorn was right. While they were on this quest, they had not the time to act upon the affection between them, save the conversations that were already commonplace and their bedrolls besides one another.

He grasped the Evenstar brooch softly in his hand. “I swear to live to see your promise to me fulfilled.” Then he smiled and his face became less formal. “Still, I hope you’ll allow me one kiss, before we start our agreement.”

That Aragorn could most certainly agree to and he leaned in closer waiting for Boromir to close the gap between them. His lips were chapped, yet soft. They pressed firmly against Aragorn’s, but they did not demand more than Aragorn could give as his tongue swiped over his bottom lip, asking for permission to deepen the kiss.

It was a permission, Aragorn granted eagerly and he was swiftly carried away by a gentle hand cupping his cheek, while the other clutched at his clothes. He lost his breath in the kiss, yet he had never felt more alive.

When it was over and Boromir pulled away, he had to gather his wits about himself for a moment. As he did so, Boromir smiled: “That is one memory to keep me walking on long roads ahead. We should head to dinner now though, I do not think Pippin will forgive us, were we to miss a meal now that we have it. Hobbits are quite peculiar about food.”

Aragorn remembered four Hobbits wanting to stop for a second breakfast, now already ages ago and smiled. He would not let go of the memory of the kiss either, but he knew better than to linger on it while they emotionally could not. Instead he agreed: “They very much are,” before leading the way through winding paths.

At dinner it was only Legolas, who noticed the jewel now sitting on Boromir’s neck and raised a brow at Aragorn, who shook his head softly, urging the Elf not to ask.

And so they lived with the knowledge of a potential future held close in their heart. It might be war, but was war not the place for love? For if there was no love in war, who did they fight for?

The only indication of their newfound closeness that was kept platonic for the sake of the quest was their bedrolls that found their waycloser to each other when they camped on the shores and watchesspend together, gazing at the stars and the eyes of the other.

Yet not all things that were good, were meant to last. The darkness was ever growing and no matter the love Boromir held in his heart for Aragorn, he had long since learned that his duty came first. Andthe voice of the Ring had twisted that love for his people into something ugly beyond recognition.

Still Aragorn had not yet accepted the gleam in Boromir’s eyes as corruption, perhaps blinded by love and unwilling to accept it as something other than the proud stubbornness he knew the other man held as well, perhaps it was the Ring influencing him to be blind.

No matter their affections, there were points they fundamentally disagreed on. “Minas Tirith is the safer road. You know that. From there we can regroup. Strike out for Mordor from a place of strength.”

Aragorn pictured the Ring surrounded by hearts that had been corrupted like Isildur’s, the land that had been the origin of the weakness in his own blood. “There is no strength in Gondor that can avail us.”

“You were quick enough to trust the Elves,” Boromir shot back and Aragorn said nothing, while rolling his eyes mentally, willing Boromir to see his point of view. “Have you so little faith in your own people? Yes, there is weakness. There is frailty. But there is courage also, and honor to be found in Men. But you will not see that.”

In that moment Aragorn found himself becoming irrationally angry yethe did not want to snap at Boromir, even if he bristled at Boromir judging him to be less of his perception of men, when he already judged him if he was worthy of a throne he had not asked for. How much more judgment would Boromir need to pass on him?

However, Boromir was not done with him yet and gripped his tunic, his touch for once not comforting, but aggressive. “You are afraid! All your life, you have hidden in the shadows.” And Aragorn was trying not to react as he let Boromir rave. “Scared of who you are, of what you are.”

With that Aragorn wrenched himself free. He was not listening to this. He was trying so hard and Boromir knew that, Boromir knew what was stopping him, what scared him. He was being viscous on purpose.

He began to stalk off, but a small dark voice whispered in his mind to snap, to make Boromir feel that hurt pit in his chest that Aragorn felt now. “I will not lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of your City.”

That night their bedrolls were on opposite sides of the camp and neither held the other company during their watch. They did not speak the next day either.

As they peddled he did not look at Boromir, though his eyes wanted to stray over to see if the Son of Gondor was safe still. He fought it. While he might have said things to hurt, it had been Boromir who started the confrontation and took it too far. It had always been Aragorn apologizing or explaining himself on this journey and he would not be the one now.

So with clenching heart he kept to himself, hoping that this would not unmake whatever chance they had at an us.

“Where’s Frodo?”

Merry’s words snapped him out of his despairing thoughts and his eyes scannedthe campsite for their Ring-bearer. Instead of a Halfling, they fell upon an abandoned shield and a cold wave washed over him as he realized what it had been that made Boromir unnecessarily cruel yesterday.

When he found the Ring-bearer, his words made the cold that was already upon him, burrow into his bones and flow through his veins. Would Boromir ever recover from the corruption of the Ring or would he never again be the man Aragorn met and fell for?

It were not questions he had the time to ponder, because Uruk-hai were marching ever closer and he had to ensure he would see Frodo to safety for as long as he could. Still, he could not help but think of his promise to Boromir as he tried to stay alive on the hills of Amon Hen.

As he was driven back Legolas and Gimli joined him and he looked back frantically for Boromir, fear clouding his heart as he envisioned an out of his mind Boromir, encountering Frodo aloneonce more, or even the other Hobbits alone and unprotected.

Then a loud horn blow echoed over the hills and another outcome he had not considered gripped his heart and twisted it. It was undoubtedly Boromir’s horn, the same horn he had blown when they left Rivendell for he refused to be a thief in the night. The horn that meant Boromir was in trouble too large for him to handle on his own, while they were with three.

A new vigor he did not know he possessed settled intohis soul as he ripped through the forces of the enemy, trying to reach the sound in time.

Boromir had multiple arrows in his chest and a large Uruk-hai pointing a killing shot at his face when Aragorn arrived.

Laterhe could not tell how he got there, but soon he found himself dropping down next to the body ofBoromir, eyes filled with unshed tears and a thousand apologies upon his lips. If only he had talked to Boromir, if only he had seen, if only he had paid attention.

Still as he laid there, it was his Boromir. He knew that no Ring could ever care about the well being of the Fellowship, especially the Hobbits, the way Boromir haddone. And even if he laid there, pierced by many arrows, he said: “They took the little ones.”

It was not Aragorn’s concern for now, as he desperately tried to staunch the bleeding of too many wounds.

“Frodo?” Boromir was panicked, which was not helping his condition. “Where is Frodo?”

“I let Frodo go.” Aragorn would not lie to him in what might be his final moments. He squashed the thought, but it was still prominent in his mind.

“Then you did what I could not.” It was a laboring speech, lungs filling with blood. “You need not worry about your blood, for it was I, who was weak and gave into corruption. I tried to take the Ring from him.”

His words about Isildur reflected back at him in this moment soundedout of tune in his ears and he cursed himself for giving Boromir the idea that he was ever weak. Aragorn knew he had not been free from the Rings voice and it was mere luck that saved him from being its main target. “The Ring is beyond our reach now.”

“Forgive me. I did not see… I have failed you all.”

Aragorn hated to see Boromir like this. He had always been so sure of himself, relishing his history with the pride of a man, who valued his honor. He would not let him lie there and speak ill about himself, not while he was still breathing. “No, Boromir. You fought bravely. You have kept your honor.”

He could not let it end like this. He would not let it end like this. They both made a promise and the jewel on Boromir’s neck was a token of this. He would not allow this to be the end of the tale of Boromir the Bold.

While he did not have much, he made the best attempt to bind the wounds, but it was a foolish attempt and cloth colored deeply and fast.

“Leave it! It is over… the world of Men will fall and all will come to darkness and my City to ruin… Aragorn…”

No, Boromir could not give up on Gondor. Aragorn knew the hope had been fading from Boromir’s heart for many years, but not a day ago he was telling him about the courage and honor of Men and when he spoke of the White City, he only spoke with love. Aragorn would not let him die, thinking all he loved was lost. “I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you… I will not let the White City fall, nor your people fail…” It was an oath he intended to keep.

“Our people,” Boromir corrected. “Our people.” And Aragorn could cry. He had stopped trying to tend to the wounds, but this made him try again. He could not give up on Boromir after he had given him so much of himself.

Still, when Boromir’s hand reached for his sword, he helped him even if he knew why the other reached for it. He chocked through the blood his final words: “I would have followed you, my love… my Captain, my King.”

And then Boromir was no more.

For a moment the world did not move. All was silent around him as he looked upon the fair and quiet face before him.

A bout of aggression came over him and he shook the limp form of Gondor’s favourite Son as he cried and raged. “You promised me you’d live. I promised you that I would protect you. I command you to live, Boromir. Do not make me an oath breaker. Do not make me loose you… love, please, come back to me.”

No matter his rage or cracking voice, there was no reaction.

Aragorn suddenly felt far removed from the forest, the hills, the stench ofthe dead. He was floating above it, not grieving, but pausing, as if he could make the world rewind until it was right again if he just distanced himself enough.

From above he saw himself kiss the forehead of his beloved, the skin still warm under his lips as it had been in Lothlórien, yet completely alien. “Be at peace, Son of Gondor,” he whispered and left athelas on his wounds, even if he knew it would not bring Boromir back. It was a waste of resources to make him feel like he had done something for Boromir when he had failed him so.

Behind him Legolas and Gimli appeared, both seasoned warriors and understanding what had just happened to their comrade. They fell silent. Legolas knew what Boromir had meant to Aragorn and Gimli had most probably put the pieces together as well.

Softly Aragorn brushed the hair out of Boromir’s face and straightened the jewel on his chest, before taking the bracers of his arms and strapping them to his own. It felt fitting, a piece of his home in exchange for a piece of Boromir’s.

“They will look for his coming from the White Tower, but he will not return,” he said, swallowing hard.

Yet he knew what he had to do. They had not the time to bury Boromir like the Kings of old and Aragorn vowed he would return for him. If not to bury what was left of him, then to build a monument in his honor where he had fallen.

For now he had a promise to fulfill.

“Boromir did not die in vain. I will not let him,” Aragorn said. “While Frodo, Sam with him, is beyond our help, Merry and Pippin still need us. I will not abandon this Fellowship so easily. Take only what you must. We travel light. Let’s hunt some Orc.”

Within minutes they had ditched all that they must and were on the run, an hopeless rescue mission that was mind-numbing in the chase, while vital for Aragorn’s heart. He would not fail Boromir, he would win in Boromir’s name and be the best King he could be for their people.

What the three hunters did not know was the soft beat in Boromir’s chest, for he had not been an oath breaker and he could not disobey a command from his King. Brought back from the brink, he lay there with athelas keeping him on the edge of life.

They also did not know about an Elven group, hurrying down the river to answer the call of a horn that demanded aid.

The three hunters could not know that slowly Boromir was heaved into a boat, loosing his horn to the river as the Elves rowed him to their forest, where the one who could heal him resided, if he were to survive the trip.

So, they fought for a friend they thought dead.

~~

A/N:

Thisis not really based in canon, but I like the idea of Boromir talking during marches. It might have started as a way to ease the minds of the soldiers under his command, or just something to stave of the boredom and a habit he picked up after marching often.

Also I like the idea that Aragorn is a great King, who is v good at negotiation and stuff, but the moment it’s abt Boromir, he looses all chill and skills he has. He’s a gay disaster, ur honor and I love him.

It has not as much dialogue as I would like, but there seemed no place to fit it in and this style of story comes natural to me now and I am quite happy with it still :D

I tried really hard with Tolkien’s writing style and while some parts are better than others, I am happy with my attempt bc it was a bit of an experiment.

The title and chapter titles are from Hadestown, the number Promises, bc I have emotions about it.

[xxsmokeyy]

ok so how about a story where (preferably bi) reader and levi both fall for petra and there's this competition between them as to who can win petras heart first but after petras death (or some other issue; your choice) they both mourn and bond with each other and realize that all those times they tried to outshine each other, they fell for each other instead

Levi x Petra x Bi! Reader (F) One Or The Other

genre: mild angst, fluff (healing)

summary: it’s a bit surprising that despite being rivals, both you and Levi have gotten through a lot together. before you know it, you’re already seeking refuge from one another.

tw: mentions of death

wc: 6,575

You know it’s a heck of a risk trying to aim for someone’s hand like Petra’s. She’s the entire definition of a dainty, lovely girl everybody admires, of course including you. Besides, you don’t even know if you stand a chance, not when there’s a tough guy your way.

Namely, Captain Levi.

Well, there’s another one named Oluo, but you don’t even think of him as a competition. Definitely not a threat as well.

“Hey,” you call the girl with strawberry blonde hair. She looks back at you with a smile and stands upright, wiping the sweat trickling down her neck. You watch as she tucks her hair behind both her ears to get rid of the stray fringes. Isn’t she just hot?

“Need help?” you ask, ready to give her a hand upon seeing her singlehandedly clean the stables.

“I don’t think Captain would allow that,” Petra says before petting the said man’s horse. “Am I right, big boy?” she talks to it, combing its black mane with her slender fingers. Adorable.

“One dick of a Captain we have, don’t you think?” you say, rolling your eyes heavenwards as the image of your superior passes by your mind. “Hmm, not really. I believe his austerity is right just the way it is,” she says in full decision. Of course. The one thing you don’t like about her is the way she worships the shitty Captain like some kind of noble man.

You let out a disappointed sigh, crossing your arms. “You have got to stop being a clean freak apologist, Petra. Unless you’re inlove with him or something,” you point out and take a step towards her, taking away the broomstick from her other hand.

She’s visibly spent to the bones, tending to the horses all by herself to meet the Captain’s regulations. He only always assigns one person per duty, saying soldiers should learn how to clean alone just as much as learning how to fight, which is an utterly dumb stance in your opinion.

When she blushes by your words, a small pang hits your heart. It’s just as you guessed.

Not that it’s not so achingly obvious enough these past few years, but it’s only gotten worse ever since the new 104th recruits joined the Scout Regiment. She keeps praising the dickhead in front of them whenever they ask about him, telling them a variety of stories stretching from way back, it’s ridiculous.

“I don’t!” She really doesn’t. She just idolizes him so much that it comes across as romance. People keep rubbing to her face that she’s inlove, though it’s definitely not what she feels.

Her denial nature and easily flustered reactions keep your spirits low, almost surmising with a conclusion that you had no chance at all if not for the fact that she never made romantic advances to him her whole stay in the army.

“You do,” you avert your gaze, not wanting her to notice the brewing jealousy in your eyes, else she might avoid you or act awkward if she finds out.

“I don’t!” she presses, accidentally pulling on the horse’s crest, forcing a neigh out of it. Petra apologizes to it like it can understand her. “If that isn’t definitely guilty, I don’t know what is,” you mumble under your breath, releasing another sigh as you start sweeping the scattered hay.

Once the Captain’s horse calms down, she faces you, hands on her waist, ready to explain her feelings in fine details. “Look—“

“Who said you can slack off?” Speak of the devil. Your conversation is given a good interruption when the dark haired man arrives.

Petra immediately fixes herself, fist slamming to her chest as acknowledgment of the Captain’s presence. “We weren’t, Captain! She just wanted to help me out,” Petra clarifies right away, voice firm and booming.

You feel the infamous pair of fierce eyes dart on you, and you briefly thank anything that first comes in mind for your current position, back facing the Captain so he can’t see your disgusted scowl.

You prep yourself and turn around, giving him a half-assed salute. “I just finished with the laundry. Thought I could give her a hand,” you say, tone almost holding no formality at all, “—sir,” you lazily add.

His brows twitch as he hears you out. Brat.

“I don’t recall telling everyone to work in pairs, neither of you understood that?” he pinpoints, staring you dead in the face. You’re not intimidated, though, not one bit. If you think I’m scared, you can kiss your own ass. “I insisted. In case you didn’t notice, she’s tired,” you inform, steadiness unwavering. What is even wrong with assisting someone? This merciless prick.

“Oh?” He walks toward you in strides, easily coming face-to-face with you in a span of seconds.

“Come to my office, Petra,” he orders without looking at her, and the woman gives you one last glance, then making off after giving him a polite yes. There it is. He’s about to show his true colors, you just know it.

“Cheap way to win her over,” Levi lowly spits at you, and you can feel his hot breath ghosting harshly over your face. “If you’re so kind, do it all over again,” he orders lastly, internally entertained by how your eyes shut close in fury, grip on the broomstick tightening.

As he finally steers to leave, you swear in your life you never wanted to hit someone so damn much it’d knock them out cold.

Levi heads back, footsteps fading into the background, and an exasperated groan leaves your mouth. You frustratedly throw the broom to the floor, startling his horse, which does nothing but make your blood boil stronger in your veins. Fuck him!

—

You lie down on the hard ground, even more deadbeat than the girl you opted to help. For shit’s sake, who knew this is what you get for volunteering to be of use? You can only imagine how the new cadets would have it hard once the Captain notices their mediocre cleaning skills.

It’s probably nearing curfew, you guess from the excessive appearance of stars in the skies, but your muscles are strained stiff you can’t come inside any time now. You were left with no choice but start from scratch. If you act up and not clean up to his standards, you’ll only get it way worse, so you decided not to push him further.

You sense someone approach you, and you strongly wish it isn’t Levi. He’s the last creature you’d like to see today.

Soft and familiar amber eyes greet yours from upside down, a petite body looming over you, and you couldn’t be anymore thankful. Petra gives you a sympathetic look before sitting down beside your laid form, keeping her hands behind her back.

“I told you,” she starts, “it’d be no good if Captain sees, but you insisted and he arrived! Now look at you, you’re absolutely exhausted, aren’t you?” she continues to scold, though it doesn’t strike you as a scolding. More of a concern, yes. A smile creeps up your lips.

“Just give me the bread,” you confidently say, and she sighs in defeat before revealing the pastry she had in hand. Your heart feels giddy as you sit up straight, taking the food she went out of her way to prepare. It’s like the tiredness just disappeared into thin air. What an angel.

Petra scrunches her nose as she watches you eat in speed. You cock a brow as you see her look at you like you’re— “Do I stink?” you frantically question and smell yourself all over. No way, you’ll definitely get points off now!

She giggles bubbly and shakes her head to dismiss your assumptions. “No, but you’re biting like you haven’t eaten in ages. That famished?” she asks once she’s calmed down.

You feel heat rise to your cheeks, unsure of what to think. She’s definitely an angel, especially when she smiles. You sigh for the nth time, “Obviously. Did you see how much of a bastard our Captain is? In all honesty, I’d prefer Hange as our squad leader,” you complain and resume to munching.

“I don’t know about that,” she says, gaze boring into yours. You tear your eyes off of her and stare at the horse stalls. “What did the old geezer make you do?”

“Nothing, just a bunch of paperwork,” she says truthfully. Oh, for all you know, he just wanted her all to himself. What an unfair move, using his authority to have her alone.

You angrily bite down on the bread, later realizing you’ve finished it. As she observes you, her eyes widen, suddenly remembering something. “I forgot your water!” she exclaims and rises to her feet, but you stop her before she can leave, grabbing her soft hand.

Your chest stutters involuntarily from the contact and you compose yourself right away. “It’s alright, I’ll get it myself. Go back to your room before Captain catches you,” you urgently say, not wanting her to get in trouble again. “Just help me up,” you ask to which she generously follows. You briefly wish the moment could last longer.

“You sure?” she quizzes when you finally stand up. Both of you heading inside, you nod and hum in agreement, “Thanks for the food.”

She gives you a smile as you both reach the halls, waving you goodbye before you part ways. Ahh, you feel all energetic now.

You walk to the mess hall, footsteps light and shallow. Judging from the dimly lit corridors, it must be a few minutes away from curfew. You just hope you don’t bump into some higher-ups. Hange’s fine, though.

As you push the door open, you regret it right away. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mutter unintelligibly. Aside from the raven haired man, the room is dead empty, a lone candle in a chamberstick providing dull light. Technically, he is the last creature you see tonight.

You have lost count of how many sighs you’ve released the whole day, all energy in your body draining once again. Steel eyes lock on you as you enter. There’s no turning back now. Well, at least Petra isn’t the one who found him here.

Levi cocks a brow as he watches you proceed inside, seemingly heading to the water jug. You stay quiet and take a glass, then filling it with water. As much as possible, you don’t want to converse with him.

He seems like he won’t let you succeed with that. “Done with the stables?” he asks, sipping on his tea.

“Yeah,” you curtly answer, not up for some bantering.

“Some goody two shoes you are,” he scoffs, ticking you off, but you refuse to let it show. You face him and lean your back against the counter. “Like you’re any better with your assholish attitude,” you sass him out, drinking on your water all the while remaining eye contact. You’ll show him.

“And you complain like the little brat that you are,” he rebuts.

“You’re just threatened that she might go for me behind your back when I just wanted to help,” you answer with a shrug, taking a few steps closer to the table he’s seated.

“Women like you like to play dirty.”

“You don’t know a thing about women,” you snide with a condescending smile, belittling the man before you. He can’t be one to talk about women when he treats you like shit. If there’s someone Petra might end up with, you sure as heck wouldn’t want it to be this guy.

He throws you a glare, piqued by your words before standing on his feet and and walking his way to you. You stay steady, unfazed by the intimidation he’s giving off.

“After all these years, do you seriously think you stand a chance?” he deadpans, which strikes straight to your feelings. He doesn’t have to emphasize that, you already know it, memorized it even.

“I don’t know, but it’d be just as much as a loss if she chooses you,” you say, slamming the glass you’re holding onto the table. After giving him one last glare, you turn your back on him, having enough of the senseless arguments.

He hates how you only ever treat him as a Captain in the battlefield, but not when you’re at ease. You always looked at him like an arch nemesis of the sort, not afraid to answer back at him like he doesn’t deserve your respect. He stressfully closes his eyes and massages his temples as you leave.

—

You sit on the bench, just in front of the Captain, who is currently beside your beloved Petra. Look at him making his moves. You roll your eyes discreetly, sipping on your fresh tea.

“What are you, on a diet or some crap?” Levi asks, finding Petra’s plate empty, bowl of soup halfway finished.

“No, I gave it to the girl you made run laps,” she informs, “she almost passed out, you know.” Right? you wanted to agree but decide to sit still and listen.

Levi doesn’t answer, and instead puts his own loaf of bread on her vacant dish. “Eat. We have an upcoming expedition,” he only says and sips on the liquid left in his cup. Petra’s cheeks turn into a feminine shade of pink, and you so wanted to pull her away from him. She exclaims a yes and starts munching. Great, I should’ve done that first.

You’re not about to put up without a fight, though.

“Dear Captain has to eat as well, don’t you think?” you sarcastically chime in, transferring your unmoved bread onto his plate. “Can’t have him thinned to bones when the walls get breached again,” you add, innocent smile downright infuriating to Levi’s eyes.

You desperately try to keep in your barging laugh to yourself as you watch him look at his plate disgustedly.

What do you say, Petra? I’m just as kind as he is, right? That show off.

Petra hums in agreement and nudges the Captain to eat, a string of hearty giggles leaving her velvet lips, alluring about a total of three people from the same table. You heart skips a round of beats as you watch her flash her toothy grins. Talk about an appetizing view.

Her giggles boil down as realization hits her. She gives you a mixed look of confusion and thoughtfulness, opening her mouth to speak and stop you on your tracks.

“But—”

You wave her off before she can shove her worries to you and prop yourself up, momentarily stretching your limbs in relaxation to then pick up your dirtied china.

“Don’t worry, Petra, I’m already full,” confidence brimming in your tone, you tell her and take your leave. But not without giving the Captain one last glimpse. It was even more appetizing to see him pissed.

Your other comrades only watch in awe as they see the unnamed rivalry uncover ahead of their eyes, your victorious smile determining the whose triumph it is for today.

How about that?

—

When you finish with dish duty, you head to the dining area once more to check if the sconce candles are extinguished, only to find them still lit and burning, with a side of holy bastard, as you like to call him. Of all people.

“Here again? What is this, your lounge room or something?” you mockingly ask and take a seat in front of him, wiping your wet hands on your pants. He ignores you.

You purse your lips out of observation. He must be a tea addict, having another one after dinner. “Are you always here every night?” you ask again, initiating a genuine conversation.

He finally looks at you and sets his tea on the table, a bit surprised by your question. “I am,” he answers. You nod, about to ask another question but he beats you to it.

“I’m removing you from the flank,” he suddenly blurts, taking you aback. What? Your rested face visibly loses composure as your brows furrow together.

“What do you mean? Is it because I shitted on you earlier? Oh please, do you think I’ll hit on Petra while on a mission?” you continuously spurt in one go, hackles slowly raising.

“It’s not about her. Erwin specifically asked for you to join his group since you apparently answered him right,” he remarks, completely calm. You are smart, that’s already a given that he knows, it’s just that feelings can get over the best of you that he doesn’t find rational.

Your ragged breathing upon taking him the wrong way steadies as you listen. “The Commander?” you confirm and he grunts his response. “Alright then, you better watch over her in my stead.”

Levi takes a glance at you, steel grey eyes holding an unreadable expression, which you find amusing and triggers a laugh out of you. It’s like his answer should have been already staring you in the face. Naturally, he’ll do that without you ordering him.

He can be cute at times, can’t he? In a funny way of course, you inwardly clear out.

Meanwhile, he thinks you’re out of your mind as you humor yourself. He’d honestly like it if you just leave him alone right now, which you eventually did, waving him goodbye.

The night before the expedition, you pay Petra’s room a short visit.

She answers the door within three quiet knocks. “Hey,” you greet with a smile and she offers to let you in forthrightly. “No! It’s fine, I just need a few seconds,” you dismiss.

“What is it?” she curiously asks, now face to face with you as you stand in her doorway.

“I won’t be with you tomorrow, so you better take care. Stick with Gunther, or Oluo. If possible, not with the Captain,” you whisper the last bit jokingly, but she ignores it and only questions why you’re separated. You explain the situation to her, leaving out the confidential details.

Petra nods, stroking her chin. You notice she’s already in her nightwear and is probably prepared to sleep, so you decide to return to your own quarters.

“Take care, alright?” you remind, eyes boring into her borderline gold ones. They were pretty and gentle, a pair you always adored through the years.

Petra wishes you the same and then a good night, strongly wanting to unite with you safely after the mission you could feel it deep inside you.

As you look at her, you‘re certain that you haven’t met a more loving person your whole life. Will there ever come a time that you’d confess to her? Probably not. If you’re being frank, you don’t think what you feel for her is that deep a love that you’d go out of your way to initiate a romantic bond. If nothing else, it might only be admiration, an attachment at most. You like her, that goes without saying, but there isn’t any room for in depth involvement, especially not in this line of work, you think.

The door to her room finally closed, you spin to get your own shuteye, only to see a familiar figure from a little distance.

The candlelights on the halls define the highest points of the man’s face beautifully, and you identify him without a hitch, dull grey orbs meeting yours.

“Let her sleep, and get your rest,” he briefly says before making off. Your eyes slightly largen from the lack of interaction, as opposed to the reprimanding you expected. Was he supposed to say his regards to her as well?

In all fairness, he didn’t go for your neck this time. Well, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Morning comes quickly, along with the falling into formation as sketched, the deployment of operation, and the arrays of discoveries you found in the progress. Everything happened quickly, and before you know it, the expedition is given an official beat to retreat.

You stand on the same branch as the Commander, waiting for his signal to flee after fighting off the wave of titans to defend the target. Three pair of your blades are blunted down to nubs from the excessive charges, and you think for a moment if you should replace them with new ones.

Catching your breath, you wipe dry your dampened skin and clothes. You watch as he idly chat with the Captain, instructing him to refill his gases. For what? I thought it’s over?

Levi listens to what he’s told, perceivably on his guard. Why is he even here? Where are the others? When you’re just about to call Levi’s attention, Erwin catches sight of you and the confusion resounding from your aura. He then permits you to break away from his flank and reunite with your own squad, and you gladly follow.

You first help clean up with the immobilizing equipment used on the spy, telling Hange to prepare for withdrawal. She passes the message onto the other soldiers, commanding them to bestride their horses to then get going.

You still don’t know where to find your teammates, so you stick with the higher-ups a little longer.

Since you’ll travel by horse from here on, you decide not to meddle with your gears anymore. You hop on the saddle and lightly yank the reigns to start moving, and with everyone else, you ride through the woods, thousands of questions ready inside your head.

A few moments later, you hear Erwin converse with Hange regarding the spy, about how they must still be alive and how they must’ve blended in by now. You feel the tension rising as you listen to his assumptions, trying to register everything he’s trying to come across with, and it all makes sense when you hear two consecutive thundering of little intervals.

You quickly turn around and swerve, shifting your weight to guide your horse back to where the booming sound came from. It’s the alleged sound intelligent titans make when they transform, and you know push has come to shove if you hear two of them.

As far as you remember, the key weapon was situated together with your squad, you being the only one left out, so you’ll find them where Eren is. You let your horse gallop in great speed, heart thumping loudly in your chest it’s almost deafening. Please, be safe.

It feels like decades have already gone by when you arrive at the terrorizing scene of carnage.

You put your horse to an abrupt halt and jump off, cold sweat breaking without control as you stumble upon corpses and corpses you achingly recognize, the life in their eyes strenuously extracted. Gunther, Eld, Oluo… Petra.

An immense vertigo hits your head, your field of vision blurring upon seeing them drained of consciousness. You refuse to accept the view, shaking your head like a child in utmost declination. It seems you’ve only followed behind the Captain, finding him looking at the same plight.

“Levi…” you helplessly call as if seeking for refuge and saving. But it horrifies you the most when you meet his dead gaze deprived of rest, almost exactly looking like theirs, striking violently at your heart. No, not you, too…

Streams of tears shed endlessly from the corners of your eyes, and Levi doesn’t know what to do. He’s beyond pained, watching the only comrade he has left on his team slowly break down due to the shambles. He can’t afford to be frozen by the fathomless torment he’s currently trying to overcome, nor does he have the luxury to stay by your side and console you.

He has no choice but to keep moving.

“Call the others for assistance and put their bodies on a carriage,” are the last words he gives you before taking his leave, wires zipping and clutching into the surfaces of the tree barks as he skillfully maneuvers with his gear.

You think for a second, is he that used to losing people? but you completely miss out on how he slashes the giant enemy in great anger, expertly cutting flesh like he’s never done before as if it’s his only chance to momentarily pour out his emotions, all the while trying to stay objective.

Your whole body weakens and you fall to your knees, getting a closer look at the dead woman before your sight. Your hand acts on its own, stretching out to painstakingly tuck Petra’s locks behind her ear like how she always styled it. Your lips tremble as you attempt to fight your threatening sobs back.

She has slipped out from both your reaches.

Since then, you limited your interactions to those that were only really necessary, because for the first time in a while, you feel utterly alone. Years of having the sweet girl by your side all gone into the dust, along with the overwhelming loss of your whole squad, everything is weighing you down.

Flashes of memories come at the most misplaced time every now and then, and you can’t handle it when it triggers in public, causing you to lock yourself up in your room, weeping in secret.

You can’t be any more thankful to your Captain for letting you wallow in your own way of coping. Most importantly, though a small part of you still doesn’t want to admit, you’re more than grateful he stayed alive all throughout the last of the mission, coming back home with you.

You still remember the hurt in his eyes that no matter how hard he attempted to conceal, still peers out. It was visible when you had no choice but to throw the bodies out of the carriages, bringing not a single fallen soldier back. It was visible when Petra’s father asked the Captain for his daughter, even going as far as spilling his plans of arranging a marriage between the two young pair.

It’s haunting you so much, you haven’t had an hour of sleep after arriving back even if there’s an upcoming operation. Despite it being against your will, you frequently wonder how he’s doing.

One night, you find yourself walking through the halls, unable to force your mind to just shut down and rest without stressing out for the uncountable time.

You don’t know why you’re fully decisive of where to go and who to find. You don’t know why you feel calmer every step further. You don’t know why you’re so eager as you push on the wooden doors of the mess hall. You don’t know why you already expected to see him there.

“Oh, look at the old geezer drinking his tea in the dark. Do you know what time it is? It’s past curfew,” you inform sarcastically, voice also forging a front to sound normal. It’s not yet past curfew, you just want to tick him off.

“You’re only four years younger, and it’s not,” Levi answers as he lets his eyes land on yours. It’s obvious you’re only trying to clown around, the exhaustion in your face giving away your crestfallen state.

“What? How do you know that?” you ask, scandalized.

“I recognize the time.”

“I meant my age?”

“Because I am your Captain, woman. Don’t push me,” he hisses and brings his teacup into his mouth, the hot beverage staining on his tongue just the way he likes it. Even more so that it’s the only thing he can rely on at the moment. That’s what he thinks.

You scowl and sigh. Fair enough.

You take a seat in front of him and he gives you an unreadable look, as usual. Does he feel intruded? All of a sudden, you feel shy, hoping you’re not bothering him.

“What? I won’t mess with you, I’m tired,” you argue upon seeing him stare you down like something’s off with you.

Levi studies your expression, finding your face a bit similar to his in a not so positive way. With a shallow sigh, he decides to let you be and do what you want.

You prop your cheek on your elbow and maintain eye contact. “How’s your leg?” you quiz, genuinely curious of his current condition. The bastard brought home an injury as souvenir, rendering him downright useless for the plans the Scouts had right ahead.

“Not good,” he says, earning him a hum in response. The longer he lets his glance stay on yours, the more he notices the little details in the way you presented yourself.

Tonight, you spared no effort in fixing your hair, still a bit messy from the tossing and turning earlier in desperate hopes to fall asleep. Your lips were dry and chapped, he notes to call you out for it later. For all he knows, you might be dehydrated already. Your eyes? Unquestionably racked with pain.

You rest your face on top of your overlapped arms and settle to find a comfortable position.

“Go to your room if you want to sleep,” he orders, which you only ignore. Does he seriously think you’ve been able to sleep these days? Because you’re sure as heck he can’t with those dark under eyes of him. “Your neck will only get stiff in that position,” he adds.

Something about the company he generously, though not obviously, offers makes your eyelids fall shut in ease, his baritone voice helping your nerves compose themselves.

“I said I’m tired, give me a break…” you gradually lose volume as you speak, slowly drifting off without knowing.

Levi clicks his tongue when you finally succumb to drowsiness.

It’s not like he doesn’t have any options left, but he couldn’t do anything as he stays all night to watch over you. Surprisingly enough, the company felt comforting that he can’t bring himself to leave.

Couple hours later, he’s still up and reading a book when he hears a soft whimper escape your lips. Levi takes a glimpse at you and is a bit baffled to catch sight of a lone driblet trickling from your lids.

Sighing, he feels inclined to wipe it away with his thumb in sympathy and does as his subconscious says. The moment his calloused finger touches your skin, he realizes that you were undeniably warm. So much for a brat like you.

When you wake up, you feel a heavy cloth wrapped around your soldiers. You check the surroundings and remember falling asleep in the dining, later seeing that the fabric is a tan jacket, a uniform. The familiar scent enters your nostrils, and you name its owner right away.

An involuntary wave of heat rises to your cheeks and you’re uncertain why. It’s Captain Levi’s.

It makes you contemplate out of nowhere, was it wrong to treat him like a competition?

Thinking about it, you kind of regret not being casual with him. Without question, you’re not really in best terms with him, having an eye for the same person for a long time, that should be understood. He’s an outstanding soldier, that you can admit, but you can’t exactly put up with his strict ways at times, some of it coming off as irrational.

Maybe you should really just accept the fact that he’s a great Captain nevertheless. Because even though you viewed him like that all this time, he’s still being considerate in some ways.

A small smile forms on your lips. You definitely should start warming up to him. He’s the only team you’ve got left.

—

Tray in hand, you enter the Captain’s room, not bothering with a knock. To hell with that, I’ve got a handful, if he complains about his privacy or some crap, I’ll shove this damn food to his face.

Yes, you decided to bring him his lunch after the successful-fail raid in Stohess District. Honestly, you’re damn tired to the bones, but you take it upon yourself to give Levi a short visit.

He gives you an annoyed stare, obviously not expecting your company, and you only roll your eyes. “What’s that?” he asks.

“Food. What, is your old age getting to you? Need some glasses?” you talk back, not up for his dumb question.

Things aren’t going so well for the Survey Corps, political stances going against your brigade, comrades dying one by one you’re not entirely sure if their death was in vain or not. It’s only a miracle the Commander found a way to nullify the consequences about to come your way. That’s why Levi better not raise your hackles bad or your brain will completely explode in front of him.

He ignores your sardonic jest and eyes the tray, primarily looking for the tea, if you brought one. You did. But he keeps his hands to himself for a while.

“It’s too early for dinner, and I could’ve gone to get my own food.” An exasperated sigh escapes your throat, hearing his argument.

“This is your late lunch, sir,” you inform candidly, taking him by surprise. True enough, you didn’t mean to be so observant, but you saw him skip lunch earlier before the raid. Heck, this isn’t even the first time he deliberately missed it. You know he’s still unwell and at a loss just as much as you are—maybe even worse, and that’s preventing him from taking care of himself.

Of course, he’s still your Captain whom you’re willing to serve, wholeheartedly, at that. Hence, you’re going to take care of him if he’s not doing it himself, whether he likes it or not. If even this guy leaves you, then you’ll probably arrive at the end of your wits.

With an exasperated sigh, you set his meal on top of the nightstand right beside his bed. “Are you enjoying being a useless Captain?” you cross your arms and quiz, having enough of his prideful attempts for rejection.

“Tch, you know full well I’m not,” he answers and averts his glance, looking outside the window and the dimming skies.

“Then eat your food and stop complaining,” you lastly command, real bossy and assertive that he’s on the brink of cocking a brow in question.

He falls silent. You were right, he won’t get any better if he continues to mistreat himself. Besides, it’s already you who went out of your way to prepare him food, he shouldn’t just let that go to waste. Finally giving in, Levi first grabs the teacup by its mouth and takes a sip, nose immediately scrunching in repulsion upon tasting the beverage. You might be trying to poison him, after all.

“This tea is shit.”

“I said stop complaining.”

—

A whole different wave of hurdles and complications just got overcome after the wall breach alarm got deemed false, and three new intelligent titans were revealed. Seeming as though those weren’t even enough, humanity’s key weapon got kidnapped as well. Naturally, a rescue operation was deployed to action, losing a ton more soldiers in the process.

Everything is starting to become overwhelming, you’re both physically and mentally exhausted, and emotionally. Everything is beginning to feel like a pain in the neck, as if the Scout Regiment didn’t have that way from the start.

It’s actually just as you guessed. When you went outside without a full functioning team and a Captain to follow orders from, you felt lost and misplaced. The novel experience was depressing, to say the least, moving forward without the ones you’ve fought side by side with through the years.

You can’t help but find yourself looking for a familiarity, a middle ground of the sort. Feeling like a storm is building up inside you for trying to suppress your problems all by yourself.

On the low spirited trip back, you eventually realize you needed someone. And who else is there aside from him?

You ride your horse back to the walls, aching for his presence. Anything that has to do with him, you want to see and feel.

It’s almost like vexing decades have passed when you arrive and return to the headquarters. You hop off your horse, movements slow and back hunched, aura visibly despondent.

Your half lidded eyes desperately scan the fields to search for that one person, comforting satisfaction taking over your entire body as you find him standing a few meters away from your form.

Funnily enough, he was waiting for you just the same.

Levi couldn’t decipher what shitty smile you tried to give him, it was only plain pitiful in his eyes that his guts are telling him to walk over to you and give you a welcome. He didn’t have to do it, though.

Because maybe you did the first step. Maybe you took big strides or maybe you eagerly ran to his figure to feel his warmth against your body. But nothing else matters when you reach out both your trembling arms to him, now wrapped around his sturdy body, locking him in an embrace you never thought you’d feel your whole life.

You slowly descend to a sobbing mess, completely abandoning the idea of you looking like a mere crybaby in his eyes. He’ll surely bring this up some other time, but damn that. All you know is that you needed this, badly.

It’s shameful, being fully aware that you’re slowly eating your words. Whenever you think of how you put the tiny distance between you and him, you just want to slap your palm across your face. In reality, he isn’t so bad.

You want to thank him for letting you free yourself and let it all out, but your awfully shaky sobs are hindering you from doing so.

Levi senses your exhaustion, and a whole other variety of intense emotions. You’ve been keeping some burden to yourself, too. It’s amusing to him in a way that you’re both similar in a lot of things. Especially in the bad habit of bottling oneself up, assuming it’d do any better.

Deep down, he’s glad you let loose and opened your walls to him. He cares for you, after all.

As you weep against his chest, lungs stuttering and eyes turning bloodshot, Levi allows his hand to pat your back, lightly stroking it to make you calm down.

It is, indeed, wordlessly reassuring, telling you that he was there. You never imagined that of all people, he had the ability to offer the exact solace you’re looking for, just with the simple gesture.

For once, he lets it slide that you’re all bloody, sweaty, dirty, filthy—name it—when making contact with him. He just doesn’t know that needed this as well. In fact, the entire time you were away, his foot mindlessly tapped in full expectancy of your arrival, waiting with bated breath. Not like he’ll admit that.

“Don’t you dare speak,” you threaten amidst your shaky hiccups, and he almost finds it amusing how you can still manage to act so tough in front of him when you’re already breaking down against him.

He secretly heaves out a sigh, the expression of relief escaping your ears, “Brat.”

Both of you stand there underneath the twilight to dusk horizon, ignoring how some of your subordinates watch you in shock, or how you’re not halfway the trouble yet, still utterly clueless of what lies ahead. Because right now, you were still together. You had each other, someone to lean on in this wretched mess.

Without the two of you knowing precisely why, both your hearts feel a tad bit alive.

[madtype]

Cabaret Club Czar Training - YUKI (Part 2)

continuing her training, yuki and majima talk about dating, dreams, and princes!

highlights: - yuki being concerned that majima’s unwell because he was nice to her - majima’s accidental double entendres featuring chafing and crotches - yuki, on the potential of feeling some attraction to majima: “oh... i don’t know how i could ever forgive myself...”

full transcript under the cut!

---

MAJIMA: Alright, let's do some more training.

YUKI: Y-Yes, thank you for taking the time!

M: What's up, Yuki-chan? You nervous again?

Y: N-Not at all! It's battle butterflies again!

Y: Okay! Let's get started! I want to get better at talking to my customers!

M: That's the spirit, Yuki-chan! Alright, I'm gonna be your customer, and we're just gonna talk. Are ya ready?

Y: Y-Yes!

Y: Hello! I-I'm Yuki! Thank you please for coming in toda-- tonight, um, have a good...

M: ......

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M: Alright, let's get to know each other a little better, Yuki. Not that I care, but why don't ya tell me about what kinda guy you like?

Y: Wh-Why do you have to put it like that!? When you say it that way, it really doesn't inspire the most creative of answers, Majima-san...

M: Yeah, yeah, my bad. So tell me about your type already.

Y: Let me think... I... I like a guy who can be my prince!

M: Uh. A prince?

Y: He should be kind, tall and handsome, with flowing hair! He'd really respect me, and he would look good riding a white horse, y'know!?

> Sounds just like me.

M: You talkin' about me, Yuki-chan?

Y: Huh? What do you mean? Majima-san, are you saying you're a prince!?

M: Sorry, Yuki-chan. I may be your ideal man, but I can't be your prince.

Y: Ahaha! Majima-san, you say the funniest things!

Y: Majima-san, you're not exactly a prince... Oh, I know, you'd be the evil chancellor who betrays the kingdom!

M: An evil chancellor!? It's the eyepatch, isn't it!?

> I think I get you.

M: I can see that. If I were lookin' for a lady, I'd want a princess, too.

Y: Huh? Wow Majima-san, you actually see eye to eye with me on something? No way!

M: Hey, if you're gonna hold onto dreams or ideals, ya better swing for the fences.

Y: Exactly. I'd prefer to chase the ideal of my perfect man. But, he might not actually exist... Maybe my standards are too high.

M: Lemme ask you, Yuki. How old are you anyway?

Y: I'm 23.

M: Hmmm... I see, I see...

Y: Uhhh, what's with the sudden pause?

> That doesn't exist!

M: A guy like that doesn't exist! That's on the same crypto level as a tsuchinoko, a unicorn, and a yeti!

Y: H-How do you know that for sure? The tsuchinoko could be out there...

M: Look, there ain't no such thing as a tsuchinoko. Someone probably just looked at a fat snake the wrong way.

Y: Awww, Majima-san, you're just a sad man who's lost all his imagination and dreams!

M: Yeah, and you're an adult now yourself, so maybe it's time you grew up a little... What were we talking about again?

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M: ...Anyway, I'm surprised you're such a dreamer, Yuki-chan.

Y: I'm allowed to dream, aren't I? I went to an all-girls middle school, high school, and university, so I've been dreaming about my prince charming for a long time now.

M: Ah, so you grew up surrounded by girls at your schools. I'm startin' to see why it's tough bein' around men.

Y: Oh, I... I'm sorry.

Y: So, I guess what you're saying is... my customer service skills are lacking because of that... right?

M: What's all this then?

Y: Well, since it came up, I've been wondering if my issues talking to customers might be holding everyone else back, and I wouldn't want that...

> A club needs variety.

M: A good club needs a wide variety of girls, actually.

Y: Huh?

M: I mean, sure, it'd be nice to have someone who could actually talk to the customers...

M: But some guys prefer girls who come off like they don't buy into the whole “nightlife” business.

Y: Hm, I wonder...

M: See, a girl like you adds appeal to the club as a whole, Yuki-chan. We can cater to all walks of life that way.

Y: Wh-Why are you so nice all of a sudden? Majima-san, do you have a fever or something?

M: What? What're you talking about?

Y: No, I just thought you were going to give me a hard time like you always do... I was just a little shocked, is all. So thank you.

M: Hmmmm, what kinda guy do you take me for?

> Don't worry about it.

M: Don't even sweat it. With me at the helm, a problem here and there ain't nothin' I can't deal with.

Y: I knew it. I am causing problems. I'm really sorry...

M: Ah, no, no. That's not what I meant. I was only tryin' to cheer you up, Yuki-chan.

Y: *sigh*

M: (Wow, she's really down in the dumps, now.)

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M: Hey, I know it's probably a ways off, but I wonder what you'll be like when ya do get yourself a boyfriend, Yuki-chan.

Y: Y-You never know! My prince might ride in on his white horse and sweep me off my feet tomorrow!

M: Riiiiight. Cape, sword, and the whole nine yards.

Y: That didn't sound sincere at all!

Y: But, a boyfriend... When I think about dating, all I can think about is how much of a hassle it is.

M: A hassle? Even if it was your equestrian princeling?

Y: If my boyfriend really were a prince on a white horse, it'd probably be even more of a hassle than dating a normal guy!

Y: Every date would be a struggle for the right clothes and make-up, and even then, I can't begin to imagine what I'd be able to talk about with him.

> You'd figure it out.

M: If you liked him, you'd make the effort, though.

Y: Really? Majima-san, you're the last person I expected to hear that from.

M: Really? What's up with that?

Y: Oh, it's just that you suddenly sounded so encouraging and supportive, and it took me by surprise. Are you sure you're feeling okay?

M: Of course I'm okay! I do say positive things every now and then, y'know.

Y: My heart skipped a beat there... Oh, I don't know how I could ever forgive myself...

M: Say what?

> That's this job though...

M: You donkey! You gotta do all that at work here every day. Gettin' dolled up and talkin' to guys is your job, remember?

Y: Ohhh. That's true... If I have trouble with that on the job, I'd probably be bad at it in my private time too...

M: Hey, none of that, now. If ya got time to feel sorry for yourself, you should channel that into uppin' your game.

Y: Upping my game... Yes, you're right. I can't always be a burden to this club. I'm... I feel more motivated now!

Y: Majima-san, can you tell me the number one thing that I've been missing? I really want to know!

M: Uh, lemme think about that one. Hmmm.

M: Thinking big picture... I'd say you're missing everything.

Y: *sigh*

M: Oh! No no, I take it back! Nevermind, Yuki-chan!

> Do a horseback date.

M: Well if he picks you up on a horse, I say ride with it.

Y: Ah, that would be great. So romantic!

Y: We'd ride together on his white horse, into the wind... I would grasp him tightly behind his back, our thoughts as one without exchanging words...

M: Don't get too ahead of yourself, Yuki-chan. Remember, riding a horse'll chafe your thighs.

Y: Ch-Chafed thighs? What!?

M: Yeah, ridin' a horse is a real pain in the crotch till ya get used to it. Ya don't wanna be a whimperin' mess in front of your prince, eh?

Y: Hey, Majima-san! Can you please not bring up crotches and chafing when I'm trying to talk about romantic things? Try to be delicate for once!

Y: But... Now that I think about it, I should learn to ride a horse. Wonder where I could practice...

M: Hmmm. Beats me.

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M: You know, you're an odd girl, Yuki-chan.

Y: Odd? What's weird about me?

M: Well, in one breath you're sayin' you'd wanna date a prince, and in the next, you're sayin' it'd be a hassle.

M: You're like a grumpy old man in the body of a romantic young lady.

Y: What do you mean!? A grumpy old man? At least make it a grumpy, middle-aged woman!

M: So grumpy and middle-aged is fine, long as you're a woman?

Y: I'm just not starved for love. There are more important things in life than romance!

M: Well, maybe this is a bad time to bring it up, but have you ever actually gone out with someone, Yuki-chan? I get the feeling you've never dated...

Y: I-I-I've gone out with plenty of guys! Of course! Th-There's Sato-kun, Suzuki-kun, and... Tanaka-kun!

> Those are last names...

M: Ya know, if you're gonna lie about ex-boyfriends, you should probably use their first names, Yuki-chan.

Y: Oh!

Y: That's true! If you're dating someone, you'd call them by their first name, wouldn't you? I've learned something today. Majima-san, you're great!

M: That's all it takes to impress ya? Whatever. Anywho, lots of club-goers like an inexperienced girl like that, so it ain't exactly a bad thing.

Y: Uhh... You're right, I guess. I'll keep doing my best.

> I yield!

M: Ah, well you sure proved me wrong. You've got quite a bit of dating experience, Yuki-chan.

Y: Y-Yes, that's right. Haha... Ha... Oh...

M: What's the matter?

Y: I got so tangled up in my own lie, it made me kinda sad.

M: I kinda figured. But y'know, it ain't all bad. Some of our guests actually like inexperienced girls better. Cheer up.

Y: Right... I'll keep it positive and do my best.

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M: Okay, I think that'll do it.

Y: Th-Thank you for the lesson.

M: Sure thing. Good job.

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book Two: Sapphire (Ignis x Reader) Chapter VII

At the Alstor Coernix Station, (Y/n) was inside the convenience store perusing the many items they had for sale. Ignis has entrusted her with enough gil to buy them some curatives. Their supply was low and needed to be restocked. Glancing out the window of the convenience store, she saw Ignis putting gas in the Regalia while Noctis was chatting on the phone. Prompto and Gladio were eavesdropping on the phone call.

Looking back to the items in stock, she searched the shelves for Ignis' favorite canned coffee-ebony. What caught her attention was a small sign taped to one of the shelves.

*****

Due to road closures, we are SOLD OUT of Ebony Coffee for the foreseeable future.

*****

"Uh-oh..." she mumbled.

"What's "uh-oh"?" Noctis asked as he overheard her when entering the store with Gladio and Prompto in tow. She stepped aside and allowed him to read the sign for himself. His eyes widen and nearly popped out of his head as he read the small piece of paper. "Oh, crap. They're out."

Gladio shook his head in disapproval. "Can't let him see this."

"He'd be crushed." The prince glanced outside to see Ignis finished filling the gas tank and was heading their way. "Shit, he's coming this way."

"What do we do?" Prompto asked panically.

"Nothing," (Y/n) replied. "Iggy will be fine without his ebony for a few days."

"Weren't you the one who said, "uh-oh"?" Noctis asked.

"I was, but it's not the end of the world."

"For you it might not be, but for us..."

"Mama Iggy gets cranky when he hasn't had his ebony," Prompto added. "And he gets really irritated in battle if we don't listen to him."

She crossed her arms. "I'm pretty sure he gets irritated not because of the lack of ebony but the lack of listening you three do in battle."

"Damn, no need to call us out like that," Gladio chuckled.

"Still, Specs isn't gonna like being out of ebony." Noctis looked at the (h/c)-haired girl. "You tell him the bad news, (Y/n). The rest of us will try to get a running start to avoid him. And if you survive, we'll come back for you."

She sighed. "Iggy's not gonna lose his mind and go on a rampage because they're out of ebony! And why do I have to tell him?!"

"He is waaay nicer to you than the rest of us," Prompto responded. "If it comes from you, it'll cushion the blow! You make him...gentle."

"What are you talking about?"

"Listen, Iggy's got a soft spot for ya," Gladio told the petite girl, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We all can see the way he looks at you, but it looks like you're the only one who can't see it. Sorry to say this, but you're a little dense, sweetheart."

(Y/n)'s eyes narrowed in an icy glare. Her jaw tensed as her slitted eyes focused on the shield. She clenched her fists tightly by her side as her gaze bore into his amber eyes. She watched in anger and satisfaction as Gladio released her shoulder and stepped away from her out of fear. He swallowed in fright when feeling a chill creep through his body. He held up his hands in defeat. "Now hold on a sec, (Y/n)..."

Prompto and Noctis rubbed at their exposed arms, fighting off the chill in the air. They stepped away from (Y/n), their teeth chattering slightly. The two best friends exchanged glances before looking back at the angered guardian. They were too frightened to say anything and kept their mouths shut. Without saying a word, she walked out of the convenience store.

Ignis, who had just entered the store, saw her furious expression and looked towards his friends. "It seems one of you has infuriated (Y/n)."

Noctis and Prompto jabbed their fingers in Gladio's direction and said, "He did it," in unison.

"Shit..." The brute mumbled, eyes focused on the girl who was now outside. "Thought she was gonna tear me into tiny pieces."

"Dude, you called her dense. Don't you think it was a little rude and insensitive?" Prompto asked. "I mean, I would be pissed off too."

"What could possibly insinuate her to be "dense," Gladio?" Ignis pried.

"Oh, please," the brute scoffed. "Don't tell me you're unaware of how differently you treat her from the rest of us? Or the way you look at her? That'd make you dense too, Iggy. Probably even more than her. Do you realize how often I've caught you staring at her when she isn't looking in the last two days?"

Ignis didn't know how to respond. He was aware of his own infatuation with (Y/n), but he never realized how often his gaze would drift in her direction. He must've been doing it more than he noticed in the past two days.

"What? You've got nothing to say?" Gladio retorted after seeing Ignis fell silent.

"Is there a response you're wishing to hear?" Ignis replied.

"Just tryna see if our straight-laced tactician really does have a heart and actually can fall for a woman."

The bespectacled man pinched the bridge of his nose. He decided not to entertain Gladio any longer and left the convenience store. Outside, he found (Y/n) near the Crow's Nest, her attention focused on a wanted poster of a behemoth that was causing trouble in the Nebulawood. The reward was large and tempting for any hunter that was eager to test their strength and earn a pretty gil.

Ignis joined her and analyzed the poster. "Tis a feat fit for royalty."

"Aren't you the one who said to keep the trouble to a minimum?" She asked. "I'm pretty sure a behemoth is a large serving of trouble."

"The large sum of gil is not tempting enough?" He asked.

"I'd rather not be skewered by a behemoth even for a large amount of gil."

"A shame, truly."

She snorted with laughter. "Since when are you the reckless one?"

"I am the most cautious of us all," he remarked. "Regardless, we are in dire need of funds and such a tremendous feat would fill our purses."

"You really think the five of us could take down a behemoth?"

"I believe with our combined skills the beast would still be a formidable foe but one we could eliminate."

(Y/n) looked back at the wanted poster. "You certainly have confidence in our skills, Iggy. Maybe too much..."

"Or perhaps you lack the confidence in our combined strength as a group," Ignis stated, peeking at her from his peripheral vision.

She placed a hand over her chest. "Ouch... That one hurt." She then smiled. "I actually believe we could handle anything that comes our way if we stick together, but even a behemoth could cause issues. And it's not like I'm some large, mighty spirit that could match the size of such an immense beast."

""And though she be but little, she is fierce,"" the advisor quoted. "Such a quote describes your spiritual form well."

"Tiny but mighty, huh...?" She looked back at the image of the behemoth. "Still, we might be biting off more than we can chew with such a large target."

"As per words provided by Noct: only one way to find out."

She laughed. "Yes. His carefree nature truly does suit him well. Let's just hope his carelessness doesn't get him or anyone else killed..."

"Which is why we are accompanying him-to prevent such calamity."

Just then, the two heard a familiar 'click'. When they turned around, they saw Prompto with his camera aimed at them. He lowered the device and smiled innocently with slightly red cheeks. "Just takin' some sweet pics. Don't mind me!"

"Are we ready to depart?" Ignis asked.

"Yep! We're going to the chocobo outpost first, right?" He remarked with eyes glistening in excitement.

"It's up to Noct."

"What's at the chocobo outpost for us to do?" (Y/n) wondered.

"Chocobos!" Prompto squealed. "What else?"

"Don't we have royal arms to find?"

"Well, yeah, but this'll be a quick detour! Once we've ridden the chocobos, we can go back to searching for the tombs. And, of course, see Iris in Lestallum."

The girl sighed in relief. "I'm glad to hear she's safe."

"Me too. Guess we forgot to mention the phone call to you." Prompto lowered his camera. "Now then, let's go!"

Ignis and (Y/n) exchanged glances before returning to the Regalia. The three other boys were already in the backseat, waiting for them. The girl climbed into the passenger's seat and peered over middle console at the blonde in the backseat. "Maybe I should sit in the middle seat, Prompto."

"And let you be squished by these two?" He pointed to Gladio and Noctis. "No way!"

The shield wrapped an arm around Prompto's neck and used his other hand to drive his knuckles into the top of the boy's head. "You sure 'bout that, pipsqueak?"

Prompto struggled against the brute. "H-Hey, you're messing up my hair!"

Ignis started the car and pulled out of the Alstor Coernix Station. At Noctis' command, he drove in the opposite direction of Lestallum and headed to Wiz Chocobo Post. Prompto was able to break free from Gladio and giddily bounced up and down in the backseat. His excitement only escalated as the distance between them and the chocobo outpost shrunk.

The moment Ignis pulled the Regalia into Wiz Chocobo Post, Prompto climbed over Noctis. His excitement caused him to move faster, but he tripped on his own feet as he climbed out of the car. He quickly recovered and ran over to the empty pens.

Noctis readjusted his jacket from where he was trampled by Prompto before exiting the vehicle. Gladio closed the door behind him as did Ignis and (Y/n). She leaned against the car and looked around the outpost. "For a place with chocobos, it's eerily quiet."

"Think this side trip was for nothing?" Gladio asked.

"Best we find the owner of the establishment before drawing any conclusions," Ignis said.

(Y/n) wandered around the chocobo outpost while the boys spoke with the owner, Wiz. She browsed through what the store was offering before departing with a smile. She continued walking around until she was stopped by a large chocobo chick. It pecked at the heels of her shoes before rubbing its feathery body against her legs. Her brows furrowed in confusion as to why it was acting somewhat like a cat. Squatting down, she hugged her knees and poked the top of the chick's head. It 'kwehed' in response, fluffing out its feathers.

Smiling, she petted the top of its head. She had only seen pictures of chocobos and was flabbergasted at the size of the chicks. "You are one big chick, but adorable. And your feathers are soft." The chocobo chick bumped its plump body against her legs and caused her to lose her balance. She fell on her hindquarters and blinked in surprise when the chocobo chick hopped onto her lap. It flapped its tiny wings with another 'kweh' before nuzzling its head against her stomach. "Guess I have to add friendly and cuddly to the list."

While petting the chocobo chick that was curled up in her lap, she spotted movement from the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she saw three more chicks heading straight for her. Their chubby bodies bounced as they trotted towards her. Even a few loose feathers were knocked free and sent spiraling in the faint breeze that blew through the outpost.

The three chicks reached (Y/n) and tried to join their sibling. However, there was only enough room for one chocobo in her lap. The other three opted to snuggle their bodies against her sides and back before taking a nap. The girl sighed through her nose when seeing the predicament she was in. "What do I do now...?"

"Oh. Em. Gee!" A voice squealed. The spirit looked up and saw Prompto with his camera aimed at her. Noctis, Gladio, and Ignis were standing behind the blonde as he took pictures of her. "The chocobos love you, (Y/n)!"

"Where did these guys come from?" Noctis asked the spirit.

"They came out of nowhere and ambushed me," she said, continuing to pet the chocobo chick in her lap. "As you can see, I didn't stand a chance."

Not even a minute later, a woman with a yellow apron ran over. "I'm so sorry about this, miss! The babies escaped their pen. I hope they didn't cause you any trouble."

(Y/n) offered the stablehand a kind smile. "They were no trouble. They're quite friendly."

"They really are," she giggled. "This hasn't been the first time they've escaped. I've tried to come up with ways to stop them, but they're amazing escape artists."

The guardian managed to lift the chubby chick out of her lap so she could stand up. The three other chocobos that were snuggled up against her plopped against the ground when she was back on her feet. The stablehand rounded up the four chicks and escorted them back to their pen. (Y/n) brushed the dirt off her dress and tights before asking, "Did you learn why most of the pens are empty?"

Ignis stepped forward. "Remember our early discussion of the behemoth?"

She froze, eyes widening. "Don't tell me...?"

"It's a beast known to the locals as Deadeye. If we desire to use the chocobos, the behemoth must be dealt with."

Her sapphire eyes drifted over to Noctis. "Let me guess, you took the hunt."

"Yeah. Is...that a problem?" The prince questioned.

"Not at all. Just try not to get you or anyone else killed."

Noctis' opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. "Wha-? I..."

"You are audacious in battle, Noct," Ignis stated. "Which, mind you, has resulted in the injury of others."

"I am not that reckless," Noctis tried to defend himself.

"Sorry, buddy, but I've gotta side with Iggy and (Y/n) on this one," Prompto said. "You kinda are reckless in battle."

"So are you, blondie," Gladio remarked. "The only ones here who aren't reckless are myself, Iggy, and (Y/n). You two would be skewered meat if it weren't for the three of us watchin' your backs. Maybe you kids should leave the beast slaying to the grown-ups and stay here to play with the birds."

"We aren't kids!" Prompto screeched.

Noctis nodded. "Yeah!"

"Then prove it," Gladio shoves past the two younger boys. "Let's go take down a behemoth."

Noctis and Prompto dashed off with Gladio following close behind. (Y/n) clasped her hands together in front of her as she watched the three take off. "Gladio sure does love to egg those two on."

"Speaking of eggs, I do believe a scavenge for ingredients is in order once we've dealt with the behemoth," Ignis said.

The girl glanced at him in disbelief before laughing. "You would think about ingredients at a time like this. I'll see what I can do once we get back. We better catch up with the others. They won't be able to take down Deadeye without us."

"Yes, let's. Our assistance is always invaluable."

Ignis and (Y/n) left the chocobo outpost and caught up with Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio. They hadn't made it far down the dirt trail located just on the outskirts of the chocobo ranch when they regrouped with the other boys. They skirted around the Nebulawood in search of the entrance, but froze when the sound of snapping trees came from within the stone walls. The ground shook slightly with each tree that fell. It was like a domino effect where one tree would fall and then it would immediately be followed by another.

(Y/n) was pulling up the rear of the group when she suddenly heard the voice that had been haunting her ever since they left Insomnia. Stopping, she looked up at the sky and listened closely to the disembodied voice.

Vessel... Costlemark...

Her eyes narrowed in bewilderment. "Costlemark...?"

Ancient... Worship...

"I don't understand," she whispered. Her attention was drawn away from the voice when the sound of a threatening growl emitted from the Nebulawood. When it faded, she looked back up at the sky in hopes the voice would speak to her again, but it was silent. She promptly caught up with the boys just as they managed to locate the entrance to the Nebulawood.

Before they took another step forward, (Y/n) questioned the boys. "So this is Deadeye's prowling grounds?"

"That's what Wiz said," Noctis replied. "Why? You worried?"

"Not at all. Just do be careful. We don't need a dead prince on our hands."

"Hey, this'll be a walk in the park for us."

She sighed. "You say that now..."

"Wait 'til we actually face the beast before drawing any conclusions," Gladio finished the girl's thought. "Just try not to be an idiot and get your ass handed to you. We can't always be there to save you from all the trouble you put yourself in."

"Okay, I get it," Noctis groaned. "I'm reckless. Damn, you guys never learn how to drop anything..."

"We're simply here to watch your back, Noct," Ignis stated.

"Not to babysit you," Gladio added.

The prince threw his head back with another dramatic groan. He wanted to drop the subject and did so by ignoring his companions and entering the Nebulawood whether they were with him or not. Once a little ways into the rocky, windy structure of Deadeye's prowling grounds, he slowed his pace as he followed the path forward. They were surrounded by downed trees, possibly the ones they heard snapping earlier. From the damage done to the trees, it appeared something large had struck them down.

(Y/n) approached one of the fallen trees, her nose scrunching up when receiving a whiff of something that smelt awful. Gladio noticed her slightly disgusted expression. "What's up, munchkin?"

Ignoring the nickname, she responded with, "I've never encountered a behemoth before, but beasts and daemons all have distinctive odors. From the scent, I'm going to assume Deadeye caused all this damage."

"Behemoths have been known to stroke their bodies against trees and other structures to mark their territory, leaving their natural musk as a warning to other creatures," Ignis informed the group.

"Oh, nice to know," Prompto mumbled.

"Behemoths are territorial beasts. If we're not careful, none of us are coming out of this unscathed. We need to be extra careful in this area, especially since Deadeye has marked his territory," (Y/n) said.

Noctis rubbed the back of his neck. "Guess this isn't gonna be a walk in the park..."

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist

[tev-the-random]

What it Ursa took her children with her? - Pt.2

As we were saying:

Little over year has passed since the family arrived in Hira’a, and fateful news gets to them: Ozai remarried. His new wife is someone who is honoured to marry the Firelord and doesn’t mind the fact that his head is so deep up his own arse- anyway, and they are expecting a child, who is to be the Firelord’s legitimate heir.

Azula’s hopes and dreams are shattered. At age ten, she is quite literally being replaced in her beloved father’s life. It’s like she’s never even existed, and she can’t help but wonder what she did wrong.

Zuko is also upset, of course. All those years when Ozai told him he was unfit and worthless come flooding back. But somehow, he already expected things to turn out like this. Unlike Azula, he wasn’t so deeply feeding on hopes that things would go back to normal. He sees it more as a situation that was out of everyone’s control.

He convinces Azula it’s not her fault, and these kids will still be trying to understand and defend their father later down the road. There must be a reason for all of this, right? They start thinking of a reasonable scenario…

Ursa just feels sorry for the poor woman who has to deal with Ozai now.

So we get a timeskip: about three years came and went. Zuko and Azula – treated as kids and not as weapons – lead a peaceful and happy life whenever they’re not thinking of their father and everything they could be doing out there.

They have become known local troublemakers in their spare time. Kids know better than to challenge them, people know not to leave flammable goods out in the open – a strict policy regarding fireworks has been established after a chaotic incident – and failure to keep an eye on them this one time led to… well, let’s just say that the town is still unsure of whether or not they’re is being haunted by evil spirits.

They aren’t allowed anywhere near Forgetful Valley, but bold of you to assume they never tried. In-jokes arise.

‘No, I’m serious: that tree’s face looked exactly like yours, Zuzu. You really should befriend it,’ Azula mocks, remembering a particularly ugly tree they encountered in their adventure.

‘Sorry, I wasn’t looking at it. I was busy looking for whoever it was that asked you,’ Zuko retorts. ‘Since Forgetful Valley has all the kinds of crazy stuff.’

‘Maybe we should go back and look for your impulse control, then.’

‘None of you are going back in there,’ Ursa reprehends. ‘It was very irresponsible of you. Forgetful Valley is a dangerous place, you could have gotten hurt!’

‘Your mother is right, you know?’ Noren comments. ‘I’ve been to that jungle before, and it’s definitely not a playground. But I swear…’ He makes a dramatic pause. ‘I once saw Ursa’s sense of humour in there.’

The kids burst out laughing while Ursa sighs. ‘Since you can find such amazing things in the valley, dear, why don’t you go back there and find yourself actual funny jokes? I’m sure my sense of humour will be around the same corner.’

*More laughter*

(IDK, I write crappy comedy, ok?)

They still have a bit of a hard time making friends. I wouldn’t say they are shy, but they definitely have a talent to say the wrong things at the wrong times, and it’s hard to make deep connections. Sure, they would play with other kids from time to time, but in the end, Zuko and Azula are each other’s best friend.

They’ve cleared an area by the beach that any Hira’a resident knows to stay away from when they’re training.

Azula discovered a great passion for theatre. Not only are her acting skills fantastic, she also seems to be naturally aware of what makes a good scene. People say she’s Noren’s Little Assistant.

She hates being called Noren’s Little Assistant. She would much rather be called Ursa’s Little Star, because goddamn is she a good actress and she needs everyone to know that.

Zuko is more of a plant-lover guy. Unfortunately, he hasn’t inherited his grandmother’s green thumb, and despite Ursa’s best efforts to teach him, it seems like everything he touches dies.

He has grown to show a way with animals, however. Any variety of frogs and toads love him; lizards of all kinds are attracted to him like he’s a magnet; furry animals big and small adore him and any type of bird-like creature seems to think he is the best human being in existence. But his favourite animals are still the turtleducks.

Back in the palace, Iroh eventually learns of Ozai’s bullshit and how he got the throne in the first place. And you know what? The time has come for Iroh to draw a line in the sand. He confronts his little brother, who confronts him back by telling him that, should he try to tell anyone in the Fire Nation the truth – that Ozai was a top-grade traitor who actually had no right to the throne –, no one would believe him. Since his brother won’t be sensible, Iroh decides that’s it: he’s fucking out.

Now a fugitive from the Fire Nation, he somehow winds up owning a lovely traveling tea shop called the Jasmin Dragon. Most people don’t even suspect he is the fearful Dragon of the West, because he’s just so nice?

You can bet he serves blends of tea from all across the nations.

The tea shop is also a good cover up for his exchanges with the Order of the White Lotus. He gives and receives information, and does his best to help villages to either defend themselves or evacuate during Fire Nation attacks.

One day a member of the White Lotus travels to Hira’a for one reason or another and finds Zuko and Azula. This person then sends a letter to Iroh.

Iroh comes to Hira’a to visit the family. He’s glad to see they’re ok, even if he can’t stay for too long. But long enough for some Quality Time – these kids have grown so much!

Iroh doesn’t know of Ursa’s part in Azulon’s assassination, and only assumes she knew of Ozai’s plan. But now, it’s time that her children learned a couple of things, and he is willing to teach them, so that when the time arrives for them to meet their destiny, they should be able to choose wisely and face whatever comes their way. So he asks the children to accompany him in his travels.

Ursa doesn’t want to let them go. They’re children, they should be here living a peaceful life, not meeting some grand, dangerous destiny! What if something horrible happened to them?

Iroh understands the pain of losing a child. He doesn’t want to make Ursa spend her time worrying about losing two, so he respects her decision and soon leaves the town.

But the siblings are not about to just sit here when they know they’re destined for something greater. What incredible knowledge did their uncle hold? Did their father have something to do with this? They always knew there was more to their fate than just living in Hira’a for the rest of their lives, and this is their chance; it’s now or never.

Zuko and Azula are about to sneak out and follow Iroh when Noren spots them. But instead of trying to stop them – he is well aware that he can’t – he gives them two masks and some advice about never forgetting who they were.

Why yes, I am saying that they eventually take the masks and become partners in crime, Zuko as the Blue Spirit and Azula as the Red Spirit, because parallels.

They catch up with their uncle and adventures and shenanigans issue as Zuko, Azula and Iroh cross the Earth Kingdom.

Now imagine this trio: two of the most awkward firebending teenagers travelling with their old tea-loving uncle, who spits proverbs like he’s made of them. The possibilities for both hilarious and heart-warming moments are endless.

Iroh thinks himself a matchmaker. Whenever he thinks he sees some romance going on, he encourages his nephew or niece to make a move. His flaming cupid arrows do more damage than good, yet he only has good intentions at heart. Teens all around the kingdom encourage you to stop, sir.

Their new life is even more humbling than in Hira’a, since they are constantly travelling. But they manage, and they know their uncle is nothing but wise… even if Azula is still quite arrogant and manipulative, and Zuko is impatient and hot-headed, which can lead to a lot of conflict.

Iroh teaches them both how to create and redirect lightning. Zuko is better at redirecting than Azula. Creating it, on the other hand, is a bit more complicated, and both of them get their fair share of explosions while learning. Neither of them really gets a hang of it – although Azula is better at it than Zuko, that’s not saying much – for they still have a lot of identity-related turmoil inside them that won’t let them grasp the energy.

Guess who else teaches them? Other members of the White Lotus. Both Zuko and Azula get some swordsmanship Skills™ from Piandao, some different (and somewhat unwillingly taught) firebending technics from Jeong-Jeong and a lot of things from Bumi, including but not limited to: creative thinking, the art of patience, strategic planning, dealing with pirates and a surprising amount of rocks-related knowledge.

Bumi adopted Zuko and Azula and gave himself the role of Second Uncle. You cannot convince me otherwise.

So one day, little over a year after the siblings joined Iroh, they wind up in a city where this big circus is performing. Uncle Iroh decides to take his niece and nephew to see it. And oh, aren’t they surprised by who they see performing?

Even though Ty Lee was essentially the only one between her sisters to befriend Azula – and consequentially, the only one to periodically spend time in the palace with her –, Zuko and Iroh still have a hard time distinguishing her from the six other girls who look exactly like her, uncertainly calling her all different names before Azula snaps ‘you idiots, that’s Ty Lee!’.

The acrobat is so glad to see her friend again, because damn: it’s been nearly four years since they last saw or even heard from each other! And Zuko, I thought you were dead? This is such a neat reunion, there’s so much for them to talk about! And sure, the circus has to leave soon and so do the siblings, but Ty Lee reassures them that, if they ever needed her, she wasn’t hard to find. This isn’t the last we’ll see of Ty Lee.

Azula doesn’t let it show, but she resents Ty Lee a little bit for choosing to abandon her noble life. She really wishes she could have had a choice.

Uncle Iroh tells the siblings stories about the war that would have some day mesmerized them. But now, his opinions about those events and what he did as a prince general have changed; that, along with what the family sees in their journey – all the horrors brought to innocent people – gives Zuko and Azula a new perspective on what they used to think was a greater good. It will still take a while for Azula to understand that no, these people are no lesser than her and for Zuko to understand why any of that matters.

Iroh eventually tells them the truth about Azulon’s death. Or at least, what he knows of it: their father killed Azulon, banished them, took the throne by force and planned to gain more power at the expense of everyone. This is a lot to take in, and the siblings don’t quite believe it.

After four years thinking about it, Zuko and Azula decided to take their mother’s early words – they went to Hira’a to be safe – and formulate what for them was a reasonable scenario. They believe that Ozai never actually wanted any of this to happen. The whole family had to have been in danger, be it due to some political, social or personal threat, and Ozai wanted to take it all by himself to protect them. So he sent his wife and children away, concocted a plan with Azulon to cover for them and, once Azulon died and left him the throne, remarried to keep appearances. To Zuko and Azula, this makes perfect sense. And they thoroughly convince themselves of that.

They initiate an argument, thinking that Iroh is jealous of Ozai.

Their uncle sees these children are starting to stray from their path, but he knows this is a necessary journey for them. They will never be able to deal with reality unless they face it.

The siblings leave Iroh, planning to head straight to the Fire Nation capital and find out what really happened. Maybe now that they are older, it would be a perfect time to come back home; they surely could defend themselves from any threats.

Of course, they’ll be very disappointed to know that Ozai was just a bitch and never actually cared for any of them.

I don’t have a full formed idea about how their reencounter with their father would go down, but I say Ozai would officially banish both his children from the Fire Nation for trying to cause a commotion – which could easily be perceived as a threat. Not only that, but Zuko and Azula are the children of a traitor; cue for Ozai revealing what happened that night four years ago, confirming that he was the one to kill Azulon with Ursa’s help.

I also think that, after that day, the Firelord would have discreetly helped spread rumours about Ursa that would drag her name through the mud in the Capital – was she cheating on Ozai? Was she selling Fire Nation information to the Earth Kingdom? Was she planning a coup against the Firelord? Her crimes change from mouth to mouth. In the end, no one would take Zuko or Azula back unless Ozai wanted it. But he doesn’t. Not now, at least…

But Ozai also decides to play with his options: he plants a seed of doubt in his children’s minds; should they prove themselves useful later on, it would only take pulling a few strings for them to come crawling back to him. So he tells them that they needed to prove themselves for everyone to see that they weren’t traitors like their mother. They needed to prove their worth so that he could accept them.

Ozai goes a step further with Azula and tells her that, before his demise, Firelord Azulon had a plan. A plan to bring her back and put her in the leading, prestigious role she was always meant to get. But they needed to wait for the right time. There is a right time, Princess Azula. Your hopes were right all along, they will come for you eventually if you prove yourself.

The siblings have a lot to think about while they’re leaving the Fire Nation. They idolized Ozai so much all these years. But the undeniable truth came crashing down on their heads, spoken by the man himself. What would they do now? They didn’t think it possible, but their harsh actions made things so much worse: they couldn’t come back to their mother, they didn’t have many hopes of running into Iroh again, they can’t even set foot in their homeland anymore; Zuko and Azula are all on their own.

Maybe it’s time to turn a new leaf. It starts with them being fairly neutral, not completely loyal to either the Fire Nation or to the rest of the world. During this period, they would argue a lot about what to do or where to go next, getting separated and going their own ways before destiny makes them stick together again, over and over.

They manage to get a few deals and own a few favours here and there, become known thieves as the Spirits, and maybe meet up with Ty Lee’s circus every now and again. Life is hard.

But there is one thing that is about to be a beacon in their darkness…

Time to catch up to the show. Oh, you thought I wouldn’t go there?

Part 3 coming right up!

(I know I said this would be a two-parter, but it got ridiculously long, so I split it again. Three-parter now.)

[rainofashe]

Da Vinci April 2014 Issue - 10,200-word Interview with Haruichi Furudate

--To wrap up the special feature on Haikyuu!!, we’ll be delivering the words from the very author himself, Haruichi Furudate! How did Haikyuu!!, a series overflowing with the brilliance of youth and sports, come about? What sort of passion did Furudate weave into this series? Conducted in the pockets of time amidst their busy schedule, this is Furudate’s second-ever documented interview -- delivered full-length, sans cuts!

Part 1 -  The Miracle of Chapter 1: “Endings & Beginnings”

Early spring, 2012. I heard that a new story centred around volleyball had just started serialising in Weekly Shonen Jump. I was pleasantly surprised after reading the first chapter.  The attacker, Hinata and the setter, Kageyama, first met each other in their third year of middle school as opponents during the Inter-Middle School Preliminaries, which cemented their fate as rivals. “If you are the “King” that rules the Court...!!! I’ll defeat you and become the one that stands on the court the longest!!!” “...The one that gets to stay on the court, is the victor...The stronger one. If you want to continue standing here, become stronger.” Despite exchanging such words, the both of them went on to enrol in Miyagi Prefecture’s Karasuno High School for high school and became teammates in the volleyball club. Hinata couldn’t help but exclaim, “Why are you here?!” When foe becomes friend -- in a way, it’s a very Jump-esque development, but it has never happened so early on in the story before! The portrayal of the match was so realistic, it makes you want to continue following these two boys and their story. It was a perfect first chapter to hook readers in. So to begin the interview, we’ve asked a question about the first chapter. Let’s hear directly from the author of Haikyuu!! about the behind-the-scenes of how this story was conceived!

--Q1: Before this serialisation started, what sort of “spirit to challenge” or “ambition” did you have?

Furudate: Volleyball was a theme that I really wanted to work with, so I was only filled with thoughts on writing this story till the end without it being cut short. Personally, volleyball has a special place in my heart, so I might have felt that way much more strongly, but no matter what kind of manga I would’ve started, the feelings I have at the beginning wouldn’t have changed. I would’ve still been scared of having to cut my story short (laughs). Even when I heard that Haikyuu!! would be serialised, rather than feeling the joy of grabbing the opportunity of serialisation, I thought, “So it’s finally the beginning of the ‘ending’...” I’m always surprised by how pessimistic I can be. This would be my first and last chance to be able to write a story about volleyball in Jump, so if I ever lose focus, that would be the end. This positive pressure and negative urgency that I feel hasn’t changed since the serialisation began. However, when I receive letters from readers about how they joined the volleyball club in school after reading Haikyuu!!, or when I go down to watch matches for research and see elementary and middle school students who know of Haikyuu!!, I can see that this manga has become a springboard for many people to start playing volleyball or to continue playing volleyball, and that makes me happy and lifts me out of my pessimistic state. I feel that the genre of the manga, or whether the sport is major or minor, has nothing to do with how successful (or interesting) the story can be.  

--Q2: Why did you choose volleyball, out of all the numerous sports? What is the charm of volleyball as a competitive sport?

Furudate: I didn’t want to write a story about sports. I started this series because I wanted to write a story about volleyball. I was a member of the volleyball club when I was student, and especially during my high school days, I only went to school for the sole purpose of playing volleyball. I am still attached and unable to let go of that period of time in my life, so via the medium of manga, I wanted to play a volleyball that would “come to an end once I lose” just once more. Volleyball is a sport where you’re not allowed to hold or drop the ball, so to be honest, it’s a really tough sport. It’s really difficult to feel a sense of accomplishment or to feel that it’s fun. The foundations are especially difficult, and at the beginning, it’s difficult to even get the ball to go where you want it to. In fact, I myself didn’t like volleyball that much at the start. However, it is precisely because of that that got me thinking -- it’s the sense of ease that comes with the act of being able to control the ball freely that makes volleyball such an attractive sport. That’s why, even if it’s boring at the start, I want children to continue to play volleyball. 

--Q3: Every single scene depicting a match is portrayed so realistically. For example, how “hands” are expressed. Or how the “sounds” are expressed. Do you often go down to do research?

Furudate: When I went to watch some high school matches for research, I was hit by the familiarity of the atmosphere and the sounds. It refreshed my memory and I thought, “Ah, so this was what it was like!” So I pay particular attention to the atmosphere and sounds while drawing. When I go down to research on tournaments, especially those such as the prefectural qualifiers, I don’t just pay attention to the matches themselves. I also take special note of the atmosphere before a match starts, and what the corridors and lobby are like. In the first match of the Inter-High preliminaries in the manga, there is a scene of complete silence just before the match starts. That scene was directly taken from the qualifiers for Iwate Prefecture, which I went to watch just before drawing it. As for the scenes depicting the actual matches and techniques, I can only say that I still have a long way to go for my drawing skills. I’m still unable to truly convey the beauty of the players’ forms and how cool volleyball is. I’ll work hard.

--Q4: By reading Haikyuu!!, I’ve come to learn that volleyball as a sport and Jump manga are highly compatible (some also say it’s because volleyball is a sport where you have to jump continuously...laughs). And I think that’s because of the sense of comradeship (friendship) in volleyball. Were there any instances where you felt this way?

Furudate: Volleyball is a sport where you can’t drop the ball, but if you connect it to the next player, it’s a game that can continue on forever. I think this characteristic is what makes volleyball a sport that allows for a dramatic showcase of abilities, but now that I think about it, all sports allow for a dramatic showcase of abilities (laughs). If you think about “friendship, hard work and victory”, almost every sport would fit these three terms. However, I do think that for volleyball in particular, the fact that it becomes unplayable without the existence of your teammates is something that stands out. If we talk about the most extreme scenario, it would probably be a single player scoring all 25 points by himself just by serving. But in reality, such a thing happening is close to zero. As long as not all the points are scored with service aces, you definitely have to “entrust” the ball to someone else. If the ball isn’t received, it would be impossible to set it and of course, it would be impossible to spike it. The game wouldn’t even be a game. So if bonds are forged by playing volleyball with someone, at the other end of the spectrum, one would also come to realise the pressure of not being able to do anything by yourself on the court. This is where people would start to butt heads, and I think this aspect of volleyball is what allows us to see the interesting developments and growth in characters. Other than the part about “friendship”, the “rotation” system in volleyball is another factor that can greatly change how interesting the manga can be, depending on how it’s drawn. During a match, every time someone gets to serve, the position of the players shift in a clockwise manner. That is the volleyball rotation. And because of this rotation, all the players except the libero have to be able to receive, block, spike, serve and sometimes even do a set-up. And of course, each player would have different strengths and weaknesses. There is the protagonist, Hinata, who is an exceptional attacker; Tsukishima, who while lacking in attack, is a great blocker; the captain Sawamura, a player balanced in both offense and defense but lacks decisiveness; the ace, Azumane, who has high attack power but a nervous mentality; and Tanaka, who although not the best in either attack or defense, has a rock-hard mentality that allows him to be decisive in stressful situations, and so on. With each player being so different, there would be rotations that would be stronger in defense or offense, and there would be a variety of ways as to how a match can progress, which makes it interesting. The players in the manga have more obvious differences in their personalities because they’re “characters”, which I think would be able to further highlight this interesting aspect of volleyball. 

--Q5: Was the title decided smoothly?

Furudate: Because I didn’t really dwell on it, I ended up going with the most “straightforward” title.

--Q6: Round-eyed Hinata is short in stature, but is an attacker with exceptional jumping ability. The setter Kageyama Tobio who frowns and glares, has garnered the nickname, the King of the Court. Their appearances and personalities (as well as their names) are polar opposites. How did you come up with these two characters?

Furudate: I had the most trouble with finalising Hinata’s character within this series. On the other hand, Kageyama hasn’t changed much from when he was first conceptualised. In the first one-shot, Hinata was of an average build and had a timid personality (though he is still a scaredy-cat even now). As for his build, since Haikyuu!! is centred around the techniques (especially quicks), being “quicker” was more important than being “higher”. Hinata makes up for his lack of height with his jumping ability, but just that alone is not enough -- this was resolved when he realised that in the first chapter. They key to winning against bigger players lies in how much faster he is able to reach the “summit” as compared to them. There is a limit as to how much physical abilities can compensate for the difference in build. So what will he do? This is where the story really starts, so that’s why I decided to give Hinata this handicap that cannot be compensated for. As for his character, I just doodled a lot of his different expressions. And while reworking the storyline, he slowly started to take form. There are two one-shot versions of Haikyuu!!, and even though I drew him myself, I don’t really like the Hinata in the second one-shot version of Haikyuu!! (laughs). I was overly conscious of making him Shonen manga-like, so he ended up becoming a bit “false”. I couldn’t grasp his character even at the very end. I couldn’t draw the storyboard as I had wanted to and the deadline slowly approached while I was worrying over it. Even now, just thinking of the three days before that deadline brings back nightmares. After that, I continued to panic because I still didn’t know what sort of character the protagonist, Hinata, was. But after reworking the storyline countless times, I felt that he started to become more human-like. And because I’ve worked so hard to come up with him, Hinata is my favourite character. Although Kageyama hasn’t changed much since the initial stages, I think personality-wise he’s become a quite a bit softer? Kageyama is a character that takes on all of the angst that I, the author, had when I was in high school, so in the beginning that was especially prominent. In the serialisation, after the match against Aoba Johsai, the character Shimada Mart had a line that goes, “Strength is needed to truly enjoy a match”. However, this was originally Kageyama’s line in the second one-shot version. I made Kageyama take on my own shortcomings. In the initial stages of the story, Kageyama’s mentality of “I should just do everything on my own” was actually the same mentality I had for a period of time when I was in high school. Although unlike Kageyama, I’m far from being a prodigy (laughs). 

--Q7: What grasped my heart in chapter 1 was Hinata’s very first line, “The smell of Air Salonpas...!!” (laughs) It is a line that is reprised during the scene of the Inter-High Preliminaries. How did you come up with this line, and what were your thoughts and intentions in doing so?

Furudate: For both middle school and high school tournaments, the preliminaries are usually held in the gymnasium of a school, but sometimes they’ll be held at a bigger venue like the city gymnasium. When I was in high school, when we got to play in newer, bigger and cleaner venues like the city gymnasium, we would all get excited. And that gymnasium would always smell like Air Salonpas. So in my head, “a match -> the smell of Air Salonpas -> get even more excited” is the sort of correlation chart I have, so this line came really naturally to me. Even now, when I smell Air Salonpas, it sends chills down my spine. It’s a smell I really like. The newest version of Air Salonpas has a milder smell, so I’m a little disappointed. 

--Q8: The manga-esque roundness (cuteness) of the characters and the increased head to height ratio to depict the coolness of the characters -- these two distortion techniques synergise very well and makes your art stand out. How do you differentiate when to depict realness and when to use such distortion? Is there anything in particular you pay attention to while drawing?

Furudate: For scenes depicting the matches, my art tends more to “realness” in order to express the “weight” of the players’ bodies. To be honest, I don’t really take note of when I’m drawing “realness” or “distortion”, but I try to express actions and expressions with more exaggeration. Even in the match scenes, in order to express momentum, I would insert a lot of parses into the character’s body. Although it looks like I’m half-assing the characters’ caricatures in the comedic scenes, I actually am pretty much half-assing them. (t/n: i kid you not furudate actually says this) However, the half-assed expressions turn out the best when I draw them on the storyboard, but since I can’t paste them directly onto my manuscript, I’m a little disappointed. In my previous work as well as the initial stages of the serialisation of Haikyuu!!, I used a lot of elaborate angles and paneling so as to not bore the reader. But recently, I’ve been doing a lot of trial and error to see what is the most “readable”. My friends in other professions and my neighbours, just people of the general population, have told me many times that my art is difficult to follow and find my manga difficult to read, so I’m always looking to improve. Once, when I was on a Shinkansen, the person sitting next to me was holding on to the latest issue of Jump that went on sale that day. When I took a nervous peep at them, I saw them just completely skip over Haikyuu!! and it gave me such a huge shock (laughs). (t/n: oh no furudate ;-;) Once again, it really sunk in that nothing would start if I can’t even get readers to read my story. And in order to accomplish that, I needed to make my manga more readable. In recent months, in both the comedic scenes as well as the usual scenes, I’ve been making my lines thicker to simplify my art overall. I even have a paper stuck in front of my desk that reads “distortion” (laughs). While drawing, I pay particular attention to SFX. Although I always think about how powerful manga would be if it could incorporate sound in addition to art and words, but alas such a thing is unfortunately impossible, so I constantly try my best to express sound, momentum, atmosphere and depth via SFX. It’s something I’m trying to balance with “readability”, so it’s still in a stage of trial and error. However, the one thing that I’m always not satisfied with is the sound when a ball is hit. With SFX, the resulting sound is always subpar -- the ball sounds “rubbery” and not realistic. Nevertheless, I’m trying my best while having high hopes for the anime adaptation. 

--Q9: The first chapter of the serialisation of Haikyuu!!, is one of the most interesting and intense ones in manga history. What sort of thoughts went into creating and drawing this first chapter? And what were the reactions from your readers like?

Furudate: Both my editor and I were confident in the first chapter. When the plot was finalised, I thought, “This is it!!” But in the very crucial readers’ survey, I think the first chapter had a pretty average ranking (laughs). I conceptualised the first chapter for serialisation after drawing the second one-shot version of Haikyuu!!. I started by reflecting on the one-shot version. The core idea of “Why does Hinata want to play volleyball so badly?” was completely left out in the one-shot version, so it became a reason that was difficult for readers to empathise with. So in the first chapter, I wanted to delve into what sort of character the protagonist, Hinata, was. The story is as simple as it gets, and the key lies in how Hinata would make this story progress, and that’s what I focused on. Other than that, personally, I tried analysing how to make the series survive in Jump, and I think the most important key, or should I say the first stage, would be the fourth chapter. 

--Q10: When you were conceptualizing the first chapter, how much of the story had you already thought of at that point in time?

Furudate: Until around the eighth chapter. In fact, at first, I didn’t even have the first chapter we have now -- the first chapter I had was basically a summary of the events in chapters 2-8. I shouldn’t have done all 8 of those chapters (laughs). Other than that, I only had very brief memos about certain events that would happen in the story. 

--Q11: If you don’t mind, please tell us more about yourself. Where is your hometown and what was your family like? What was your childhood like?

Furudate: I was born in Iwate Prefecture and lived there until high school. I lived in the boonies and was surrounded by mountains. I would make traps out of cans to fish in the river and ride my bicycle to the mountains to search for crystals (laughs). Other than studying, I think I did everything else with passion. (t/n: relatable) After graduating from high school, I went to a vocational school in Sendai and got a job. I lived in Sendai for about 8-9 years. Miyagi is my second hometown. 

--Q12: Have you always been an avid reader of Jump? Was there any manga which you drew inspiration from?

Furudate: I’m sorry. The first time I bought Jump was when I decided to send in a submission in my mid-twenties. I didn’t buy any manga magazines regularly. I first watched the One Piece anime when I was in high school. I was so moved that I went to buy the manga. I definitely drew a lot of inspiration from One Piece. During my days as a student when I just wanted to rebel and act cool, I remember thinking, “So it’s okay to say things so straightforwardly,” “It’s so cool to say things so straightforwardly!” Also, I was really impacted by the feeling of cutting out “a still moment from something happening at great speed” in Matsumoto Taiyo’s works, so I really admire him. Recently, I’ve also been crying while reading Space Brothers sometimes (laughs). (To be honest, I’m not really a reader of manga, so I don’t really have much to talk about, I’m sorry...) 

--Q13: When was the first time you drew manga? Did you let your friends and family read the manga you drew? When did you start to aspire to become a mangaka?

Furudate: The first time I drew a proper piece of manga on manuscript paper was in high school. I’ve never shown my friends or family the manga I drew. After retiring from club activities, I started drawing a lot more. I don't know when I started wanting to become a mangaka, it just happened somehow before I realised. To be honest, I don’t remember much. 

--Q14: Please tell us more about the events leading up to your debut as a mangaka. What did it feel like to have your dream come true?

Furudate: My first published one-shot was a storyboard I had submitted to my very first competition which, with a stroke of luck, had won. At that time, I was like, “What?! Really?! Are you sure?! It’s really okay?!” Of course, I was overjoyed, but since my first submission was done when I was 25 years old, it felt as if that I’d barely scraped by and managed to make it to the start line. Also, since I was a regular office drone back then, I was always worried whether I could make the deadline. 

Part 2 - The Highest Point that Haikyuu!! is aiming towards

--Q15: This time, working on the Haikyuu!! special feature had motivated me to watch my very first Spring High Volleyball Tournament. Your art was everywhere at the station and at the venue! (I’m sure you were very happy when you received these requests!) I could feel the passion everyone had towards the impending match before them. And that got me thinking -- is “High School Volleyball” something that holds a special brilliance? What is so attractive about about Boys’ Volleyball?

Furudate: When I heard about the collaboration with Spring High Volleyball, I was really excited. I was really moved when a boy of elementary/middle school age pointed at the panel display of Haikyuu!! at the venue and exclaimed, “Ah! It’s Haikyuu!!” (laughs) As to why I feel “High School” is special, it’s because the full-stop to “club activities” happens then. I think this applies to everything, not just sports, and also because for many people, high school marks the end of whatever they were doing as “club activities”. And as for what “Spring High” means to High School volleyball, if the third-years choose to stay on, it would be the last major tournament of their high school career. And for some, this might end up being the very last tournament in their lives. As for what makes Boys’ Volleyball so attractive, I have to say that it’s the power and speed when two top teams face off. The difference between Girls’ and Boys’ volleyball in high school is that by the time they reach high school age, Girls’ volleyball would have already reached a stage close to “perfection”, but on the other hand, Boys’ volleyball would have only just started “developing”. The factors that should have been shaved away in the process of leveling up and polishing themselves are still present in high school, so I think each team’s “personality” is much more prominent in Boys’ High School volleyball. For example, in Haikyuu!!, the technique that Hinata frequently uses (a broad attack) is one that you’d see in high school matches, but in higher level matches (for boys), it is hardly used. And I think being able to see the incompleteness and unstable stage of the players before they reach a level of perfection is one of the reasons that make Boys’ Volleyball so attractive. 

--Q16: Thank you very much for answering our survey the other day! And...we’d love to go into detail about the “Issue with the fourth chapter” (laughs). The key idea in chapter 4 is, if “the strongest enemy” has joined the team, he becomes “the strongest ally”. And with such reverse thinking, the connection between Hinata and Kageyama did a 180. What’s important is the character that said this line -- it is Sugawara-senpai, who became a substitute player when the prodigy, Kageyama, joined the team. One of the charms (discoveries) of Haikyuu!! is done through Sugawara -- to express the feelings of a substitute player, the sadness and pride he had. What sort of feelings do you have towards Sugawara-senpai as a character?

Furudate: In short, Sugawara’s birth(?) came about when I was thinking, “If a first-year that just joined suddenly becomes the regular setter, then who was it before that? So let’s come up with a senpai setter!” I think the setter is a position that, compared to being a spiker, requires less aptitude. It wasn’t my intention to create drama here. It’s just that right now, Sugawara is the character whom I want the most to stand at the national stage. But I haven’t thought of whether he actually would actually do so, so I don’t know... (t/n: but now we know) Anyway, I don’t want to make Sugawara into a “sentimental” character (laughs). Although Sugawara may be seen as the “representative of common people”, I think he’s actually a pretty “straightforward” and “determined” guy. At least concerning the topic of talent, when someone with overwhelming talent such as Kageyama joined the team, he’s someone who’s able to think, “So what can I offer up to the table then?” However, I’m cautious as to not portray him as someone who is “unrealistically positive”. Though I do think that there are people who might sometimes think that all of the characters are too overly positive which makes it boring (laughs). 

--Q17: I had an enjoyable time reading about how the Hinata & Kageyama combo of Haikyuu!! was conceptualised. How did you come up with the rest of the teammates? There are many characters in this series, and how did you come up with the rival characters?

Furudate: I incorporated a lot of characteristics that I picked out from my teammates in high school, my friends and the people I’ve interacted with so far. The play-style of the members of the main team, Karasuno, was conceptualised around the same time as when their characters were designed. As for the rival teams, I usually first came up with the play-style of the team. For example, Nekoma that is strong in defense, and Datekou that is strong in blocking, and such. Then, I would come up with the characters that personify the team and work from there. For the teams with an animal motif, I designed the characters’ appearances such that they also incorporate some sort of characteristic of their animal motif (for some). 

--Q18: “There are things people have and don’t have the aptitude for.” “There is a role that only I am able to carry out.” Such lines come up repeatedly throughout Haikyuu!!. I think that the messages and beliefs conveyed via volleyball are ones that resonate with the realities of everyday life and the working world. What is the significance of having adult readers read a manga about high school volleyball? Please do tell us if you have any thoughts. 

Furudate: I received many letters about how readers who were troubled over interpersonal relationships at work had re-thought the concept of “comrades” after reading Haikyuu!!. I think the interpersonal relationships that come with playing team sports are very similar to those in the working world. A teammate is different from a “friend”, but there are times that this connection can become something greater than friends, and a bond may form. That is the same for the working world as well. Even if you can’t do everything and anything by yourself, there is definitely something that you yourself would be able to accomplish. But at the same time, there will be someone around you who has an ability you do not possess. I’d be really happy if Haikyuu!! could become something that reminds people of this fact. 

--Q19: How do you plan to draw the adult characters -- the advisors, coaches, and those who played volleyball?

Furudate: I hope to be able to draw them as characters who grow alongside the players. After reaching the age where I can call myself an adult, I realised that adults aren’t very “adult-like”, so I don’t want the adults in the story to take on too much of a philosophical point of view on things too. Although there is an old coach in the rival team that seems to be able to see through everything, the main adults that appear in the story are still young, so it is more natural to depict instances when they make the wrong judgement, or aren’t confident in their decisions. In fact, the author of this story themself hasn’t thought of the story and developments of the match next week, so along with the coach and advisor Ukai and Takeda-sensei, we will mull over it together. It might be interesting if you could feel this very real sense of urgency (laughs). (t/n: furudate is us @  procrastinators)

--Q20: How do you come up with the developments and outcome of a match? (Your comments in vol. 6 were great! I definitely want to hear more about being in an indescribable state of mind)

Furudate: Before a match starts, I would have sort of decided how things would pan out, but while drawing, I would feel that something is “off” and change it as and when. So in other words, the outcome is not decided (laughs). A match is something that’s only possible if there is an opponent, so as the author, I draw the rival team with the same attitude as how I’d draw the main team, so my feelings would always change sides. And since it’s pretty rare to face off with the same opponent twice, I’d always think, “When would be the next time I’d see you guys again?” when I look at the opposing team, which leaves me in an indescribable state of mind. 

--Q21: “To win” is to “grasp the chance to fight the next battle”. I was deeply touched by this logic. And at the end of this thought, there lies the desire to become number one. However, more than anything, it conveys the pure joy of being able to just play match after match of volleyball...How and when did you come up with such an idea?

Furudate: In the series, “loving volleyball and wanting to play many matches” and “wanting to become number one” are two inseparable ideas. So, the thought of being “number one” is of course, the very first feeling each of the players would have. And in order to become number one, it would mean that you would get to play the most number of matches, and at the same time, it would open up the path to the next stage. When the players love volleyball, and feel that matches are “fun”, what should they do next in order to play more and more matches? That would be “to continue winning and to become number one”. Although I believe that you don’t need a reason to justify your desire to win, if I had to raise one, I think it will be because “I can continue fighting the next battle”. And now, that has become one of the expressions in the series. 

--Q22: I’m really touched by how much effort you put in to make your series “readable”. Looking back at the earlier parts of the series, the panels depicting play scenes have been inserted very well. The synchronisation between the movement of the characters and the trajectory and speed of the ball is just remarkable. Although you said that “you still have a long way to go for your drawing skills”, please do tell us the points you take special note of, what you put effort into, and any points you’re proud of while drawing the different volleyball techniques. 

Furudate: I pay extra attention in depicting what the other characters who are not touching the ball are doing. Also, since volleyball is sport played with a net between the two teams, the angles at which I can draw a spike is limited (since the relative positions of the spiker, net and opponent blockers are almost always the same), so I try my best not to make it look repetitive. 

--Q23: From the reactions of your readers, have you ever thought, “I see, so this is the type of manga I’m drawing”? Do you see the “cheers” from your readers as a source of support?

Furudate: I’ve received a huge illustration made up of 9 postcards from a pair of brothers, where the younger brother is a volleyball player. Soon after he was made a regular player, he broke his leg in an accident. While he was depressed, he started reading Haikyuu!! and cheered up. After undergoing rehabilitation and being able to walk again, he said that he’s working hard to become a setter like Kenma (setter from rival team). I’ve arranged those 9 postcards in front of my desk and they always bring me motivation. Whenever there’s something that makes me sad, or when I lose confidence in my manga, I would be reminded that the “cheers” of support I’ve received are undoubtedly sincere and would pick myself up again

--Q24: Now, they’re boys engrossed in sports, but will there be a day when we’ll see some romance bloom with girls? (I’m super curious about the cute manager! Of course, the captain of the girls’ volleyball team, Michimiya, is really cute too!) How is it? (laughs)

Furudate: Right now there’s a teeny tiny little scene, but I don’t know about the upcoming chapters. Everything is undecided (laughs). I definitely want to do an episode centred around the manager sometime soon. 

--Q25: For example, in page 105 of vol. 6, there was close-up volleyball scene drawn at an angle that is impossible for any cameras to capture. How do you end up being able to draw such panels?

Furudate: I just keep thinking and thinking. What is the best angle to draw this scene so that it’s both cool and easy to understand? In my head, I’d keep changing the angles until I find the best one. Especially when I’m drawing big page spreads, even if I’m able to draw something that is satisfactory, as long as time permits, I’d keep switching the angles in my head until I find the best one. 

--Q26: The outcome of the match against Aoba Johsai was revealed in vol. 8. In the last set, both teams were continuously at match point. When I went to watch the Spring High Tournaments, the last set would always be a very close match. It was intriguing. Have you ever wondered why is this so?

Furudate: Yes!! I think about it all the time!! Though I don’t know the answer!! (laughs) Of course, the side that is desperately trying to even out the score would give their 120%, and the side with victory almost in their grasp would, precisely because it’s just right in front of them, just by a little, start feeling rushed. Maybe it’s because of this? Since in the end we’re only human. When a match reaches deuce, it’s a battle of 120% vs 120%, so it’s difficult for it to reach an outcome. I’m sorry for giving such an ordinary answer (laughs). 

--Q27: The TV anime adaptation will start airing in April. I think there will definitely be a lot of readers who will get into the manga after watching the anime. As the author of the original work, what are your thoughts and expectations for the anime adaptation? Please leave us an impactful message!

Furudate: Since I was also someone who started buying manga after watching the anime, I’m very happy to receive an anime adaptation. Even if you don’t buy manga regularly, the anime is a media that is accessible to anyone who has a TV, so I’d be really happy if that could become a springboard for people to learn more about volleyball as a competitive sport. I have really high hopes for the anime and look forward to seeing the characters move in colour, but what I’m looking forward to the most is the “sound”. The sound of volleyball shoes and the sound of the ball, all these sounds that I’m unable to express in the manga will be expressed in the anime, and since they said they would actually record these sounds, I’m really excited! The art in the manga has a more peculiar touch as compared to that in the anime, so I hope that everyone can get used to it! (laughs)

--Q28: Furudate-sensei, please tell us the “Highest Point” you’re aiming for with Haikyuu!!! 

Furudate: In the future, I hope the players that would go on to play at the international stage would say that they started playing volleyball after reading Haikyuu!! as a kid! I hope! A one in a million chance! That someone would say that! That is my one true wish. 

--Q29: Lastly, to all your fans and readers, please say a word about the future developments of the story! Please also leave a word for the new readers! Thank you so much!

Furudate: I’m hoping to make Haikyuu!! a series that can convey how cool and fun volleyball can be to those who don’t know and those who already know of volleyball. That is my number one goal for this series! Thank you very much!

_______________________________________________________________

I wanted the publication of this to coincide with the publication of the last chapter so a mild warning that it’s not proofread! Will try to fix any errors in the following days, do give me a heads up if you spot one! sorry that this is a translation of old content (yes, it is 6 years old), I wanted to do something for the closing of hq! pls check out my pal @pala_bora on twitter for threads on interviews with Japan’s volleyball players regarding hq in the latest issue of monthly volleyball!!

Sekita Masahiro, Yamauchi Akihiro, Yanagida Masahiro

also hpbd oikawa!!!

(translator’s note down below)

the japanese version said 10.2k characters and I put my translation into word and it says it’s 6.4k-ish english words wow I haven’t done such a large-scale fan-translation in a very long while!! I mentioned in my prev translation of a hq interview excerpt (which was like 6 years ago) that I wanted to do this translation but back then this was way too daunting for me (the number of pages I tell you) but I really wanted to do something since hq serialisation is coming to an end and this series means a lot to me personally. and since i’ve grown in skill (hopefully) over the past 6 years, this special feature was not as daunting as it first seemed and I managed to finish it in one sitting (albeit not proofread) as a means to procrastinating my actual work! so here it is, the long-overdue translation from a special feature in a magazine issue that’s 6 years old!! but srsly though i hope you guys enjoy reading it. I definitely did enjoy translation it since so much of the interview content deals with the beginnings of hq and it really brought back memories and seeing how things are coming full circle i am very emotional. I also actually have an exam in 2 days but am i a procrastinator that hates studying like furudate is? yes. so will I regret this decision? maybe. but does it change my decision? nope. 

I am writing this 4 hours before the last chapter drops in Japan and i just want to pen down my thoughts re: hq before i lose my train of thought and get emotional when the chapter actually drops. I was a teenie tween when I first started reading hq, which coincides with about just a few months after hq started serialisation and have been following the manga and eventually the anime as the series started to grow from a humble manga to the incredible franchise it is now. and as you know, tweens grow into grumpy teenagers and teenagers into jaded adults, which of course was what happened to me and I’ve never been so glad that I had hq all the way with me throughout my adolescence and it really felt like I was growing up together with all of the characters. it was also during my teenage years that I picked up a foreign language, Japanese (as if it was not already obvious), and hq definitely played a huge part helping me maintain motivation in my studies and sometimes even now I really think that I acquired a foreign language to an almost native proficiency just so I can read manga raws and cry in said foreign language. nevertheless, hq was definitely something that helped bridge friendships and connections i have with people, who are still very important to me and are the closest people to me to this day. hq definitely came to me at a very turbulent stage in my life filled with teenage angst and pre-adulthood and adulthood woes, but the characters and the lines they deliver, the beliefs they convey are so pure and sincere and they have motivated me tremendously throughout the years. just recently, I was looking back at some quotes from the series (credits to monthly volleyball, in the link above!) and looking back at these quotes really reminded me of the times when i was struggling and when these quotes really pushed me forward. the hq fandom is also one i’ve been very fortunate to be in, and i’ve seen so many good fan-made literary, musical and artistic works produced because of such a great series. although hq is coming to an end, I strangely don’t feel sad, but I do feel a sense of emptiness and a little bittersweet. No doubt that the ending will be one we will all be satisfied with, but a series that has been a huge part of my life for so many years coming to an end really does feel like I am closing a chapter of my life along with it. no doubt that that feeling will be all the more stronger for furudate. am i ready to take on a new chapter in life? maybe not. but hq will always have a special place in my heart, and i know that when i’m feeling depressed and unmotivated, I can always look back at it and the memories that come along with it. thank you so much furudate, for letting us meet characters that are so raw, human and comical, yet straightforward and unyielding. thank you for teaching so many of us the wonders of volleyball, and for becoming a light in many of our dim lives. cheers to Haikyuu!! and thank you!!!

[lunatic-fandom-space]

Comparing RWBY and YGO DM: The Handling and Evolution of Themes

Hey! Its been a hot minute since I last posted anything RWBY-related but Im laying in my bed right now and Im sick and bored so I guess we're doing this. Today I will do my best to analyze what I percieve to be the main themes and messages of both of these shows, or more specifically, how theyre handled narratively. Im mostly focusing on that part because, while these series do have similar themes and messaging, they are still a few things in which they are wildly different. And with that, lets start with this essay-post-thing!

1. Theres something we need to adress first

Okay so, before we can really talk about this, theres something I feel the need to clarify here: Neither of these stories was "planned from the beginning".

Now, I dont think a story being planned from the beginning or not nesscessarily makes the story any better or worse by default, however, it is still important to acknowledge because the way the story is planned is going to affect every facet of it. Things are not going to be foreshadowed properly, things are gonna be set up only for nothing to come of it, the story might drastically change directions, characters might act differently, etc, etc.

And, this is bit off-topic but, it's much better to just admit that the story was not planned than trying to pretend that it was. Like, there are a lot of reasons why I tend to be so forgiving towards YGO even though its not very good, but one of them is definitely the fact that, as far as Im aware atleast, the guy who wrote it isnt pretending to have had this big master plan all along and neither is the fandom. With RWBY on the other hand... yeaaaah, its kinda the opposite. From what Ive seen of RWBYs fandom, there seems to be this pretty popular narrative that everything was planned even though it clearly wasnt. Thats pretty bad and honestly lowers my opinion of the writers so much more than if they would just admit to not having a proper plan.

Like, I initially consumed YGO like this: Yu-Gi-Oh Duel Monsters, Yu-Gi-Oh (aka Season 0), like, a quarter of the Yu-Gi-Oh manga (I still havent finished it)

In all three of these we have the character of Yami Yuugi, or just Yami. Broadly speaking, he is an ancient egyptian gamer spirit who lives in a magical puzzle that has not been solved for 3000 years until this highschooler named Yuugi Mutou comes along and solves it, thus setting him free and allowing him to possess Yuugi and have access to the vague magical powers of the puzzle.

In Duel Monsters he's perfectly fine most of time, morally speaking. There is an instance of him almost murdering a guy and its a bit unclear what exactly happens to those he mindcrushes but overall he's very much a pretty good guy. In Season 0 most of what he does is set up these games for bad people, where they will go insane no matter what they do. From how I understand this whole Shadow Game, Penalty Game stuff, if you lose a Shadow Game, you get violent and intense hallucinations and you will always cuz yknow, gamer spirit. But if you try to cheat, which most of the bad people do in this show, you get violent and intense hallucinations as a punishment.

Since the two anime are generally considered two different continuities, its perfectly fine that Yamis characterization is wildly different in both of them. But in the manga both of these characterizations appear, basically one after the other with no real arc or consequences, for that matter. Why is that? Simply put, someone thought it was a good idea to try to turn an episodic, very slice of life-y light-horror manga into a more traditional, more plot-driven battle shounen. From what Ive heard, it was apparently largely because of network interference or something, but the point is, it changed directions incredibly drastically with little planning and everyone knows this and I can understand that for the most part.

In RWBY we have the character of Blake Belladonna, who, in the first 3 volumes/seasons atleast, was this aloof, more toned down loner-type character with a pretty strong sense of justice. She's an in-universe marginilized racial minority and she clearly cares about racial injustice. The way its initially framed makes it seem like she had a very hard life and no stable support system, which is what eventually pushed her to join a Civil Rights group/Terrorist organization (good god, the Faunus subplot is so awful, I could write a whole essay about it but Im already de-railing rn so I'll just save that for later).

Then, in volumes 4-5 it turns out her father is actually like, the mayor or chief of this island-place called Menagerie and she grew up in this big mansion with multiple guards/servants. Oh and also, apparently "space is a commodity" on there, so theres that. She still retains large parts of her personality but she's kinda like, worse somehow I think. I cant really describe it in a meaningful way but I hope you get what Im saying anyway. Then in Volume 6 she confronted her emotional abuser Adam (sorry for not mentioning him sooner but yeah, he was like, her abusive boyfriend, which is something that a lot of people disagree with but I wont really say anything about it either way because I dont really feel any specific way) with her friend, Yang, and ended up killing him.

After all that, she pretty much lost the rest of her personality, as well as her arc about all the Faunus stuff. She just kinda became the meek, generically nice, recovering abuse victim. Why? Well, the actual reason is that they didnt plan out shit and are just kinda flying by the seat of their oversized clown-pants and if they and the fandom just admitted it, I would have less of an issue. I still wouldnt be as forgiving towards RWBY as I am towards YGO because the crux of the issue, for me, is just that I dont particulary like RWBY but also like. Do you really expect me to take MKEK seriously as writers after admitting to not have a timeline because iT wOuLd CaUsE pLoThOlEs?

However, since they want us to believe that everything was planned out from the beginning, the explaination would be.... Idk, they deliberately butchered one of their main characters?? Because.. they hate her?? Maybe????

So yeah, that was quite a detour however, I would like you to keep this mind going forward.

2. Themes of the Early Series'

First, what do mean by 'Early Series' for both of these shows respectively? Well, for YGO that would have to be Season 0 or if youre reading the manga, everything pre-Duelist Kingdom. Basically, the part of the series thats a episodic, very slice of life-y light-horror series.

For RWBY that would be the first three Volumes, also known as the Poser-Era. Back then it was just kinda an action series that took place at Anime Warrior Academy (also known as Beacon) with some pretty bare minimum worldbuilding, character-driven plots and developments but now its more of an epic high-fantasy story with more of an emphasis on plot as opposed to just action.

The themes and messages in Early YGO are kinda vague, very confusing to me and if you were to follow any of it literally that would be pretty bad. For now Im just gonna say the main themes are Friendship and Identity and mostly focus on the Identity aspect.

Now, it took me a little while to figure out RWBYs deal but I think the main themes for Volumes 1-3 are also Friendship and Heroism. Once again, I'll mostly focus on Heroism and touch on Friendship more briefly later.

I dont have much more to add to YGOs themes right now, so I'll briefly go over Heroism in RWBY.

In RWBYs setting there are these man-eating monsters called Grimm that have basically infected the planet. In order to deal with that, they have people called huntsmen and huntresses that kill them and protect people. Theyre trained at special academies like Beacon and go on missions there and stuff like that. Our four main characters, Ruby, Weiss, Blake and Yang, are training to become huntresses and one day they go on this mission to clean up a grimm infested city block with one of their teachers. Obviously, that takes a long time so they have to camp out in one of the empty houses. Weiss, Blake and Yang cant sleep because theyve been thinking about this question that their teacher asked them when they were fighting grimm: "Why do you want to become a huntress?"

They have a heart to heart and we find out about their motivations; Weiss wants to bring honour back to her family, Blake want to distance herself from the White Fang (that terrorist organization I mentioned earlier) and as an extension from Adam, Yang wants to have a life of adventure. They also talk about why Ruby wants to be a huntress and it turns out that she judt wants to help people. Unlike the others, she has no motivation besides that. We're meant to listen to that and look at her as a sort-of personification of Heroism: kind, but not naive, strong and most of all, selfless. The others on her team are not portayed as bad for not being like Ruby by any means but we are clearly meant to admire her the most out of all of them.

Okay, now comes the part Ive been looking forward to the most:

3. How did these themes evolve in the Modern Series'?

Alright, before we can really delve into the way they evolved in YGO I'll have to give you a brief summary of the character progression. At the start of DM, during the Duelist Kingdom arc, Yami Yuugi is just that; A darker Yuugi. Hes more confident, bolder, his voice is deeper, hes somehow taller, more ruthless, all that good stuff. Notably, he doesnt actually seem more skilled than Yuugi even at the start of this story, but he's still dependent on Yami. Yami on the other hand, has no identity of his own or even hints at one at this point. He's just The Other Yuugi.

Then during the Battle City arc, they find out that Yami was actually a pharao prior to being sealed in the puzzle, he just didnt know because of amnesia, I guess. So now they need to find out his real name and then send him to the afterlife because hes meant to be dead, but not before saving the world from being swallowed by darkness, which is also a thing they have to do now.

Then we finally get to the Memory World arc, where Yami, Yuugi and the rest of the gang astralproject to ancient egypt via puzzle magic. Yami is trying to figure out what the hell is going on and who all these familiar people are, while Yuugi & Co are trying their best to help him. Then some weird shit happens and it turns out that all of that is not just Yamis sealed away memories, but also a giant D&D Shadow Game that will destroy the world if Yami loses. So now theres Pharao!Yami who is still clueless on the metaphorical and literal playing field and Player!Yami, who is kinda controlling himself now? I guess?? Yamis opponent, The Spirit of The Ring, has something similar to that going on where hes both controlling and properly participating in the game. So Player!Yami is now fighting against Player!TSoTR, Pharao!Yami is now fighting against Thief King Bakura (who is like, the human, ancient egyptian version of the Ring Spirit) and Yuugi is now fighting against Yami Bakura (who is like, the human, modern japanese version of the Ring Spirit). Yuugi gets Yamis real name, he and the gang go over to Pharao!Yami and tell him his name, meanwhile Player!Yami is also somehow helping as well and they defeat the Ring Spirit, thus saving the world. Then they travel to modern Egypt, the Ceremonial Duel happens and Yuugi wins, sending Yami to the Afterlife where he can finally rest and that was the series!

I originally wanted to recount the stuff that was going on with the Ring Spirit and his host as well because they parallel eachother, but this summary is already far too long and I think youll get the point without me needing to explain any more.

My point here is, that the story went from being vaguely about Identity, maybe? to being very clearly about Self-Discovery and Learning to Be Independent. I think this is a very good way to evolve the messaging of your story. How does RWBY track on that?

Well, uh... its not great. I will acknowledge that they have tried to introduce new themes and ideas since, even though I wont really be talking about them in this post. But yeah, the whole Heroism thing really regressed.

Like, I didnt explicitly say it when I was explaining grimm earlier, but theyre not going away. The grimm have always been there and people who sign up to become huntsmen and huntresses are effectively signing up for a job that will never truly be done, no matter what they do. Characters like Ruby and even more minor ones like Phyrrah have shown us that that doesnt matter when youre a hero. No life isnt worth saving, no grimm isnt worth killing, no criminal isnt worth arresting. Then, in volume 6 they find out about Salem. Salem is the Big Bad of the show, shes immortal, controls the grimm and is supposed to be very powerful.

What do our heroes do? They give up. Sike! They were just mindcontrolled by monsters or some shit, of course they didnt give up their mission (which is to bring an Important Macguffin to a city called Atlas, sorry I didnt mention it)!

But then they arrive in Atlas (which is llike, a city thats floating over another city called Mantle) and yknow, they do some plot stuff thats not really important right now until the city gets invaded by Salem and this big grimm army she has.

What do our heroes do? Well, Ruby, Weiss, Blake and some side characters are chilling, drinking tea in a mansion and Yang and the B Team were actually trying to do something, but even those efforts seem incredibly minimal.

Oh wait, I also forgot to mention that Ironwood (a fairly minor, vaguely antagonistic character up until now) wanted to lift Atlas even higher to save Atleasian civilians from danger while leaving Mantle vulnerable to Salems invasion.

What would be the most heroic thing to do?

A) Let Ironwood lift Atlas, get as much support as they can down to Mantle and save as many Mantle civilians as they can from the invasion

B) Prevent Ironwood from lifting Atlas but then split up in order to protect both Atlas and Mantle civilians

C) Prevent Ironwood from lifting Atlas and then dont do anything else

Congrats! If you choose C, you think exactly like the writers!

And I just

This is so mindboggling to me, I feel like I shouldnt even have explain how this is bad. And like, it wouldve been so easy to actually make them seem herokc through their actions, to make it seem like they did try but no.

I have never seen a central theme be this botched, how in the world did they do that? Why did they think it was a good idea for Ruby "The Embodiment of Heroism" Rose to sit in a mansion doing nothing, no planning, no organizing just ..... God, how are they this bad? Like, this doesnt even have anything to do with it being planned in any way, this is just straight up incompetence

4. Very briefly touching on friendship

The friendship is awful and its not solely because they all have the same opinions. They barely interact with eachother outside their designated pairs which leads to it all feeling incredibly hollow. Theyre also practically indistingushable from one another now, which is a shame because it wasnt always like that. Like, I dont think the characters were that well-developed in earlier volumes but they were very well-characterized. But now we've gotten to a point where you can literally copy and paste one characters dialogue onto another and literally nothing changes, it really sucks.

5. Some closing words

Damn, this took way longer than I thought it would and now Im pretty exhausted. I have no idea how yall always write these but props to you! I feel like this ended up a bit rambly but overall, Im pretty proud.

Please let me know what you think of the points I brought up! Id also really appreciate some tips on how to get better at these longer posts because I am planning on writing more in the future (not the near future, probably but yknow).

Thats all I have to say for now, thanks for reading!

[a-crimson-lion]

I Need To Stop Reading Into Things…😂

Yet again for @kiricookie .

[Check out this post first.]

So… we’re here again. Lord forgive me, I’m back on my bulls***.

Okay, jokes aside, I really should stop doing these things, but I am a stubborn individual. Plus, I wanna see how our notes compare, and try to have more civil discussions on the internet than I see on average. I’d reblog, but again, your post is already long as is (not incredibly long, but still), and I’d rather not occupy dashboard space more than I need to.

Alright, I think I’ve said my piece. Let’s talk about your post…

Oof. Starting right in the heart of the issue, really.

I am aware that Izuku is… incredibly likeable. I am aware that some of his issues, while perceived by some as noble, are heavily problematic and probably need to get sorted out before the boy gets a close audience with death. I am also aware that some of his habits are less than courteous in some circumstances, though like you said, Izuku has the benefit of having no malicious intent when it comes to these actions, even if they can come off as annoying.

Now, regarding Katsuki’s snail pace development… I get what you’re trying to say, but that doesn’t make it come off as any less frustrating...

As much as I want to believe that Katsuki’s upbringing in society is what’s stunted his growth so badly, I wish the narrative was more willing to show it. All we’ve gotten of Katsuki’s past are flashbacks from Izuku, remarks during the visit to the Bakugo household, and the “raised with violence” line from the Remedial Course arc. Now this understandably paints a pretty terrible picture, but uh… what has Katsuki done to try to fix it? How has Katsuki tried to demonstrate that his upbringing wasn’t justified? Why is he imitating the behaviors he supposedly despises, that supposedly keep him held back, instead of trying to find a workaround? I’ve only seen a few growth/redemption arcs of antagonistic characters, but even if the arcs took long, there was always an ultimate reason for doing so. And Katsuki doesn’t have that. At least, not yet.

It’s been implicitly established that Katsuki’s growth will be the mother of all slowburns. I’ve mentioned it in this old post of mine, but this is doing Katsuki no favors, at least for me. Now don’t get me wrong, I love myself a flawed character, but there’s only so much I can stomach before a flawed character becomes less “flawed” and more “asshole.” I personally believe that his true growth doesn’t get started until “Deku vs. Kacchan 2” (Episode 61), but if we really wanna consider that “Bakugo’s Start Line” (Episode 8) is his… well, start line, then that only makes it worse. Because again, his character arc is, as we’ve established, slow. But the fact that it’s slow enough for several other character arcs to transpire (Shoto, Tenya), as well as slow enough to allow “background characters” some significant development and return to relevancy (Eijiro, Hitoshi), I start wanting to stop holding my breath for his arc’s supposedly inevitable conclusion. Now I know you personally consider the suspense a positive, but it’s the opposite for me. I’d chalk it up to impatience, but again, MULTIPLE character arcs have transpired, and a few have been far more believably gradual compared to Katsuki’s.

While it is impressive that Katsuki was willing to pour out his feelings to Izuku, I’d like to argue that it wasn’t as… well, sentimental. Remember that society and Izuku’s peers before UA regarded him as the lowest of the low. The weakest, the most worthless. “The pebble in the path.” Considering that Katsuki lost the Training Exercise AND technically got outsmarted by Izuku, who was considered this until VERY RECENTLY, I’d imagine that’d be one hell of a blow to his ego. It is still significant that he’s willing to talk to Izuku about this, but it’s not exactly because he’s humbling himself. It’s because he’s begrudgingly admitting that he’s not the best, and it’s been well established that he HATES not being the absolute best. And I don’t know about you, but suddenly getting your high expectations crushed after years of nothing but “positive reinforcement” should not be made as big of a deal as it is here. I’m not saying to get over it, because you’ll never get over it, you have to live with it and learn from it, but don’t make it seem like it’s the end of the world and a half like Katsuki did in that scene. Plus, didn’t he essentially reaffirm that he was going to do what he planned to do from the start of his tenure at UA? I mean, good on him for his dedication, but you’d think the guy would want to take a step back and actually try to learn from others if they were so impressive.

Now, the DC Superhero franchise falls in and out from my radar at times, but I don’t think Katsuki and Batman are a good comparison for the point you're trying to make. Yes they both use violence, and yes they’re both intimidating, but for entirely different reasons. Batman uses fear tactics because he finds them efficient; I don’t know what they’re doing with his character nowadays, but from what I can gather in his earlier incarnations, Batman’s not out for blood. Vengeace, sure, but he doesn’t waste time getting there beating the snot out of his enemies. He takes care of them, sends them off, and keeps on trucking. Before they tried making him even more edgy, he didn’t kill and he kept away from firearms because he was well aware of any issues he had. He may not be a goodie two-shoes like most heroes, but he does show definitive empathy in some of his earlier incarnations. Remember, Batman was the kid who lost his parents to injustice. That was his entire reason for taking up the cowl, for becoming more than Bruce Wayne. In the Justice League Unlimited Episode “Epilogue,” he has the option to kill Ace, a teen villain with dangerously growing psychic powers. He doesn’t do that. He takes the seat next to Ace as she begins to die. He offers his support as Ace has to confront the terrifying realization that she is dying. He’s helping another scared kid, because he knows what it’s like.

That’s heroism. That’s Batman.

Katsuki’s motivations and actions aren’t as sympathetic. Him lashing out isn’t for anything strategical; early on in the series and even after his “Start Line,” up until the Endeavor Agency Arc, I believe, Katsuki’s sole motivations are victory and bloodlust. Even if it seems like he’s growing more chivalrous with his resolve, he backslides so many times back into the angry loudmouth trope its hard to want to keep hope, because if he can backslide multiple times before, what’s to stop him from backsliding again? It ruins the suspense for some people. And people are intimidated by Katsuki, but that’s because he’s borderline unhinged. I’d be scared s***less too if a pyrokinetic powerhouse was gunning on me with his eyes glowing like the fires of Hell as he radiated killing intent (an exaggeration, but still). I have yet to see Katsuki use this intimidation “tactic” of his beyond the fact that he appears to be enjoying it, either.

Alright, enough of that, let’s analyze that penultimate question: why hate Katsuki? If you asked me early on, I would say that yes, I don’t like him because he hurts Izuku. But as I’ve continued looking throughout the series, I now say that I don’t like him because, contrary to what he says, virtually everything is handed to him. Most of the time, its people mistaking his battle thirst as chivalrous determination, whether it be against a villain or just a standard opponent. He never tries to make himself any more “likeable,” and while Class 1-A is quick to call him out for this in the USJ Arc, by the Sports Festival they’re all flocking to him, and I have yet to understand any proper reasoning for this. It’s less like Katsuki proving there’s more to him than meets the eye and earning the respect of his peers, and more so that people latch on to the abstract concept of Katsuki’s coolness and strength, and he just begrudgingly tolerates them from there.

I mean, Eijiro was wholeheartedly against Katsuki’s actions during the Battle Trial, yet by the USJ the difference is night and day, and it doesn’t help that he’s interpreting Katsuki’s desire to beat up villains as “faith in his classmates.” Shoto was abused by Endeavor, so the fact that he can’t at least draw some comparisons between Katsuki and his sperm donor is slightly concerning, and while I want to chalk it up to his stunted social skills, I feel like Hori and/or his editors trying to shove in a friendship to increase their overall likeability (especially Katsuki’s) is more likely. Don’t even get me started on the hoops they jump through in the Joint Training Arc. Not even gonna touch that…

Okay, finally made it to the last paragraph. So, here’s something about me you may or may not like: I don’t like people dying, good or bad. Unless their actions are comparable to that of Satan, or at least close, then they shouldn’t get the axe. Why?

Because a dead person can’t change… and a dead person can’t suffer.

Believe me, even though I’ve fallen off the bandwagon a long time ago, I want Katsuki to change for the better. And he can’t do that if he’s dead. The manga’s most recent arc has been hella frustrating because of that, and no spoilers, but the two deaths that did occur did not leave me in high spirits. Hawks, Shigaraki, you both are on thin f***ing ice I swear. So no, lucky for you, I do NOT want to see Katsuki dead just because he happens to be an ass. What I wanna see is proper repercussions that go beyond being a villain hostage and having everyone else’s potential trauma downplayed for the sake of giving Katsuki more sympathy points.

Also, I’m well aware Katsuki’s death would absolutely ruin Izuku. I am also well aware that it is one of the few concrete facts I hate with nearly every fiber of my body. Not because of what it says about Izuku…

...but because I am sick and tired of Katsuki continuing to be the arrogant s*** he is, whether it be his genuine feelings or merely a front. I am sick of the fact that for as smart and aware that someone like him is, he still insists on trying to act like a badass when there is no need or overall expectation to do so. I am sick that he continues to decide to put himself and others in jeopardy, all for the purpose of maintaining his ego. I am sick that he gets all this support, all this help, and yet his development is still worse than a snail’s pace, and the narrative continues to keep letting him off with love taps and leaving him unfairly unprepared for the kill shot.

...maybe Katsuki deserves to get better. But is this really the best way to do it? Really?

Thanks for listening. Hope you got something from all of that.

-Crimson Lion (24 August 2020)

[everwizard]

In the Eye of the Beholder

Chapter One: In the Beginning

Summary: "Dream had a secret. A secret that was well kept. A secret that could topple his very kingdom if it got out.Dream was blind." When the prince of Surmup receives news of a force threatening the southern borders of his land, he embarks on a quest to put a stop to it.

Warnings: Blindness I guess

Word count: 1,220

Next

AO3 Link

Dream had a secret. A secret that was well kept. A secret that could topple his very kingdom if it got out.

Dream was blind.

He wasn't always blind. In fact, most of his life he could see.

He could see all the beauties and wonders of the world. All the flora, fauna, and colours. Deer, horses, trees, red, blue, green.

He could see his friends and family and everything else he loved.

For the first twelve years of his life, Dream could see everything. Until he couldn’t.

His vision had been slowly deteriorating over the course of six years. It had started off with simple nearsightedness. He even wore contact lenses for a time. But then it got worse. Soon he could barely see that which was right in front of him.

As his eyesight faded, so too did his spirit. He became colder, quieter, more calculated. He began isolating himself and relying more heavily on his hearing.

He was fifteen when he attended one of his usual meetings--though they seemed to get less and less frequent. He turned to his knight, George, only knowing it was him by the telltale blue blur of his clothes. George always wore blue; it was the only colour he could see right with his colorblindness. Dream frequently made fun of his friend’s affliction. Or he used to. Not as much anymore.

“I’d like to commission a mask,” Dream spoke.

Sapnap looked up at Dream, his head cocked in confusion. “A mask? Why?”

Dream turned his attention in the direction of Sapnap’s voice. His red headband was barely visible against the rest of his featureless face. “Call it a style choice.” He slid a book across the table, open to a random page somewhere in the middle. “I’ve already drafted a design.”

The book held a hand-drawn picture of a face. It was not a detailed face, quite the opposite actually. It was a white circle, slightly elliptical, with two eyes and a smile. The eyes were positioned just a bit too far apart and more than a bit too far down. The disproportionate face was eerily unsettling.

George looked at the sketch and back at Dream. “Is this for decoration or something?” he asked.

“It’s for wearing,” Dream said.

“You won’t be able to see,” George observed.

“I’ll enchant it.”

George shrugged. “Alright then.” He grabs the book and tucks it away. “I’ll have the blacksmith get on it right away.”

Dream didn’t have the heart to tell his employees, his friends that the mask was never meant to be seen out of. It was okay though, much like he could no longer see their faces, filled with emotions he could no longer know, they wouldn’t be able to see his. It was better this way, he assured himself. Nobody would have to know.

Nobody would have to know.

By the time Dream was eighteen, he had gone completely blind. For months he could only distinguish between light and dark but now he couldn't even do that. Everything was just… Gone.

He had long since forgotten what his friends looked like, not that they would look the same anymore anyway. The change in their voices took some getting used to but he caught on quickly. George had a deeper voice that flowed like water in a creek. Sapnap's was a bit higher, a bit warmer and more coarse; like the sun on a late spring's day.

He could even easily distinguish between his further friends. Although BadBoyHalo apparently had an eerie appearance, he had a high voice that sounded like the milk served with fresh baked cookies. Antfrost, the tabaxi, was lower than Bad but higher than Sapnap and felt like grass awakening after a long winter.

Dream had gotten used to using sound to sense his surroundings. He could differentiate footsteps, locations, even time of day just by listening to the world around him.

He had been wearing his mask every day for the past three years to hide his affliction. As far as he could tell, his friends were none the wiser.

They never brought up how he never quite looked directly at them, how he always seemed to know who was sneaking up on him, no matter how careful they were, how he could identify the location of prey on hunting trips long before it showed itself. If his friends weren’t going to say anything, Dream most certainly wouldn’t.

When Dream was twenty-one, his father summoned him into a meeting room. The room was devoid of all life other than Dream and his father. Nobody was allowed in the room when the two had their meetings. Other than Dream, the only people that knew about his eyes were his parents. Their meetings were one of the few times Dream could remove his mask. As such, the only person that had a glimpse at Dream’s true emotions was his father.

“Son,” Dream’s father started, “as you know, as Prince of Surmup, you have expectations and responsibilities.”

“Yes, father,” Dream responded. They had had this conversation many times before. Usually it was followed by Dream being scolded for something or another. This time seemed to be different though. His father’s voice was calmer, more gentle. It held hints of worry and concern. What did his father have to be concerned about?

“I’ve received news of a threat terrorizing our southern border.” Dream recalled his geography lessons. To the southern border of Surmup was the Antarctic Empire. Its leader, Philza, was a phoenix who had ruled its land from the day of its conception. His three sons were set to inherit the land, but a phoenix lives long and Phil was not ready to die. As such, the three princes were able to spend their time doing what they pleased, free from the responsibilities of ruling.

"Normally we would have some of our soldiers take care of it," Dream was broken out of his thoughts as his father continued, "but this issue needs to be dealt with with a certain level of diplomacy. The nature of the threat concerns both Surmup and the Antarctic Empire.”

“And what does that have to do with me?” Dream asked.

“Emperor Philza has specifically requested your aid in handling the issue.”

Philza requested him? The Philza? Dream was skilled in battle, sure, but he was nothing compared to Philza the Undying. To say Dream was honoured would be an understatement.

“I am more than happy to send my son on this journey,” the king continued, “and I know you are more than capable, but I cannot in good conscience send you alone. That is why I have elected to send your most devoted knights to accompany you. George and Sapnap are currently being briefed in another room. When they are finished, they will be sent to take care of the necessary preparations for your departure in the morning. Likewise, when we are done, I will send you to do the same. Do you have any questions?”

Dream had a million questions, but none of them were relevant to his father. He would not let his face betray his confusion as he answered a simple, “No.”

“Good,” the king said. “You are dismissed.”

Dream left the meeting room with a thousand thoughts racing through his head.

[priorireverte]

Congratulations Ash!

Your application for Katie Bell has been accepted. Katie is a character I’ve rarely given much thought, frankly, but I’ve completely fallen in love with her already. You’ve given her so much depth and involved her so closely in everything that is happening. I can’t wait to see what she gets up to!

Please look to the checklist for the next steps and reach out if you have any questions!

OUT OF CHARACTER

NAME & PRONOUNS: Ash, she/her.

TIMEZONE: PST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I reckon I am about a six or seven out of ten. I am constantly on mobile and accessible for plotting, but prefer to do all of my replies once I am home from work and have access to a computer.

ANYTHING ELSE: I have ten plus years role-playing experience and I am looking forward to this amazing opportunity to potentially write Katie again for the first time in years. She was one of the first characters I ever wrote in the Harry Potter world and holds a very special place in my heart.

CHARACTER DETAILS

NAME: Katherine Emery Bell ( Katie Bell )

BIRTHDATE: 21 April, 1978.

DEATHDATE: 10 October, 1997 N/A, still alive and kicking.

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Katie is a cisfemale who uses she/her pronouns. She is bisexual, as she was taught to love and embrace everyone for who they were at a young age. It doesn’t matter what they are; she only weighs who they are inside.

BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood.

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor.

OCCUPTATION: Unspeakable, Death Chamber.

FACECLAIM: Poppy Drayton, though I might want to switch if accepted / after having some time to sleep on it.

CHARACTER BACKGROUND

POSTBELLUM

Like many, Katie too has scars from the war. They are weighted far heavier than she cares to admit and she carries them with her everywhere. In the pocket of her favorite cloak, tightly wrapped around her not just for warmth, but security too; on her broomstick whenever she needs to escape from the static background noise; or to one of her best mate’s houses where she is sure to find relief at the bottom of a shared bottle of fire-whiskey.

Katie shies away from intimacy’s pervasive touch. She does not give her trust away so freely like she once did as a carefree girl. Every instinct to share a piece of herself and love others is met with restraint. These are a few of the repercussions she faces because of the damage inflicted on her. She has been to a dark place; tethered between the realms of life and death while being neither here nor there. She clawed her way back to stable ground, though there are times she questions its permanence. In fact, if anything the war has taught her everything is fleeting. Now she leaves claw marks on everything, but can’t seem to hold onto any of it.

Practically everyone she knows has been touched in some way by the war; some of their scars running far deeper than her own. She lost friends and a part of herself, but many had it off far worse. Katie tries not to linger on her own pain and psychological trauma for that reason. At the end of the day, she survived; the heart beating in her chest confirms she is alive despite sometimes feeling anything but.

Since the war came to pass five years ago ( though at times it feels like a separate lifetime ago ), Katie has channeled her experiences and emotions into molding a successful career as an Unspeakable where she works in the Death Chamber. Since her brush with death at seventeen, Katie found herself unusually fascinated with the subject matter. She spent six months hospitalized in St. Mungo’s, a majority of which she was at what felt like death’s door. She swore she did die, but that was a difficult pill for her to swallow—let alone anyone else, so she kept that secret sealed tightly under lock and key. Katie figured that was the better alternative than being labeled crazy.

It took a long time for her to cope with what occurred, and even longer to bring up the occurrence with those closest to her. Being cursed certainly had its affects; it changed who she was and what made her tick. When she returned to Hogwarts and participated in the final quidditch match of her school-career against Ravenclaw, the game did not give her the same adrenaline filled rush it once had. She unknowingly battled depression and PTSD that year struggling to hold onto all the things she loved. They no longer provided her with sustenance, but she confused these arbitrary feelings with lackluster consequences from a progressive war with what felt like no end insight.

PERSONALITY

As a girl, Katie was known for being carefree and reckless. She was an untamed spirit who had not yet learned about the world’s cruelness. She had no reason then to be the emotionally guarded woman she would become. The final years of the war forced her to grow up much sooner than she ever planned for herself. Her overly-competitive demeanor was combated by a sudden instability. Trust no longer comes as easily for her as it once did. When she was imperiused during her last year of school and subsequently cursed by the Opal Necklace, she felt like she lost a part of herself. She no longer enjoyed many of the same hobbies she once did. She questioned everything, from the motives of her friends to the intricacies of life. She was no longer left in control, but instead reeling with trust issues in the present day—the most concerning being the lack of trust she feels in herself. It is an unspoken feeling, but it looms above her like a dark cloud.

Since being cursed, Katie has been keenly inept at desensitizing and disassociating from reality whenever it doesn’t fit perfectly in the box she has crafted for it. The war left her jaded and its scars provided an unwanted resilience she transformed into armor. She has survived many battles, but even the ones she lost were never for naught. They each made her stronger—just a mere fraction of the woman she will become, but still knowingly has many lessons to learn before fully evolving. However, Katie is plagued with self-doubt. Perhaps that is what holds her back from achieving her full potential.

Katie is now far more reserved than she once was. Her desire for love and ability to share it with others has diminished since she was a child, muted by a perverted sense of drive. She has a bad habit of shutting not only the world out, but those closest to her too. It can be a lonely road at times, so she throws herself into her work with hopeless abandon. She is driven and sees every project through to the very end. Ironically though, her never-ending need to answer life’s most challenging questions is exactly what holds her back from living life to the fullest. She has a one track mind and can become so preoccupied, or short-sighted, she forgets to hold onto what is really important.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY

Katie grew up in a happy family with very relaxed core values. Her parents always demonstrated love to her and her brother, Christian, even when they weren’t the most deserving or receptive. Olivia and Rhys Bell loved each other fiercely; that was one consistent factor in Katie’s life. As the youngest Bell in the family of four, she was spoiled and fussed over more than she cares too admit. She recalls all the arguments and tiffs her and Christian got into over the years—a trait that seemed to follow the pair into adulthood. Their parents on the other hand hardly ever fought. Katie believed there must be occasions they clashed with one another, but it was evident they were far more emotionally reserved than their children. They made a point not to fight in front of them, which always raised the question of where their children’s argumentative tendencies came from.

It was important for Olivia and Rhys to make their children feel empowered starting at a young age. They wanted to instill in them a strong sense of confidence that would allow them to break through any obstacles in their way or complete whatever task they set out on. As survivors of the first wizarding wixen war, and Olivia being a muggle-born, it was imperative to them their children didn’t embody the same fear or embrace any limitations as they once did. This nurturing mindset is exactly how Katie got into flying. Her father gifted a toy broomstick to her one Christmas when she was no more than six years old. She can recall the sheer horror on her mother’s face that morning; it was evident she was not in on the surprise, otherwise there probably would have been no broom at all that year. Christian had received one a few years prior and Olivia’s excitement over the matter quickly disintegrated when he lost control and spiraled into their garden trellis. Christian didn’t fly again until his first year lessons, however his sister’s abilities came far more natural than his own.

Once Olivia realized her daughter was more agile than her first born, she quickly warmed up to the idea. After she mastered and eventually outgrew the dainty toy broomstick, it was her mom who splurged for her first trainer’s broom. Katie excitedly whipped the new broom around their property, memorizing every trace of it from the new safe haven she had discovered. Flying became an escape for her. Quidditch always brought much excitement, but flying was what truly made her feel at peace with herself. Over the years she fully mastered the skill ( while running through her fair share of broomsticks ), and Katie knew she had her parents to thank for supporting her in spite of themselves and pushing her forward every time she wanted to quit. Though her quidditch career eventually faded away, her love for flying never wavered as her unconditional love for her parents and brother never has.

Present day, Katie and her family still share a special bond. Her parents continue to support all her endeavors even if they don’t necessarily agree or understand them. At times Katie is aware there is a disconnect between them, but it is something she can’t seem to avoid. Olivia and Rhys witnessed their daughter go from a bubbly and charismatic girl to someone almost unrecognizable at times, but since the war is still so fresh for everyone it has become easier to turn the other cheek.

HISTORY

Katie always considered her life very ordinary. Her parents worked hard to ensure her and her brother had a good life. They were a close-knit family and, though they got on her nerves on occasion, there was nothing she wouldn’t do for them. Katie recalls her childhood fondly. Olivia read books to both her children frequently, however Katie found herself to be easily distracted. Her head would wander to the sky where she would pluck shapes out of the clouds. Christian was the calm and retentive child—it was much easier for their parents to hold his attention. Katie on the other hand was a bumbling ball of energy since she was of crawling age. She would color the walls or demolish Christian’s toys if left unattended. It was much easier to hold her attention whenever baking was involved. Katie had a knack for sweets, though the thought of giving her more sugar didn’t always appeal. Still, she somehow persuaded her mum into baking cookies with her often. These were some of the best days of her childhood.

As soon as Katie was gifted her first toy broomstick, a spark ignited. Flying undoubtedly was her first love. Whenever her and Christian had a sibling squabble or he was getting on her nerves, she would run to her broomstick immediately and take flight; and when it was his time to leave for Hogwarts and she was left behind for three more years, flying became her therapy and release. It remedied the loneliness.

When it was finally time for Katie to head off to Hogwarts, her natural charisma and energetic personality really shined through in all she did. She made friends quickly and they became a forefront in her life. She fed off the energy of those around her and subsequently became a member of numerous school clubs. Joining the Gryffindor quidditch team her second year was the highlight of her entire school-career. She considered those initial years to be the best of all; her original teammates quickly became a second family to her. It was a feeling that still echoed long after their glory days on the quidditch pitch.

When Lord Voldemort returned, Katie found herself at a loss for words. She considered Harry Potter a friend and teammate. No one in her inner circle doubted him nor did she, however she did have a difficult time comprehending just what that meant. Cedric Diggory was also a friend; like many, seeing his body in the aftermath of the Tri-Wizard Tournament was Katie’s first brush with death. It was evident to the then fifteen year old that only something vile and cruel could take the life of someone like Cedric—someone with so much potential. She jumped at the opportunity to join Dumbledore’s Army for that reason. She believed in the cause and, reflecting on the pain the first war put her own parents through, Katie had to believe there was a reason she wound up here when she did.

Katie genuinely did not believe anything could be more difficult than that period of time, but her seventh year was one of the most challenging of all. Katie was not sure when the trip to Hogsmeade went awry on that beautiful fall day. There was excitement in the air despite the frigid temperature that brought the first snowfall of the season. That is one of the only memory’s Katie holds onto from that day. She later woke up in St. Mungo’s where she was told she had been for six months recovering from a fatal curse.

With a hoarse voice and fear filling her eyes, Katie asked the first healer she saw if she was dead.

The healer laughed as if she made some kind of joke. “ No honey, you’re lucky to be alive. ”

Lucky to be alive.

Except the problem was Katie didn’t feel anything, least of all alive. She spent the last six months in a foreign place, but didn’t feel nearly as lost or confused there as she did now that she was back in the earthly dimension.

The phrase continues to haunt her six years after her near-death experience. Maybe the Healer was right and she should feel lucky, but she doesn’t. Now that the war has come to pass, she is riddled with guilt. She cannot walk away from what happened to her six years ago despite making it out of the war alive. That alone should be enough reason to celebrate, but it is not. There are too many unanswered questions and Katie understands better than most who survived the war that everyone is borrowed time. She cannot unsee the place she spent six months of her life trapped in. She is desperate to understand it and even more desperate to know if the souls of her lost friends now inhabit the same space.

OOC EXPLORATION

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?

This group captivated my attention immediately upon discovery. The Trio Era is what originally got me into role-playing Harry Potter and the Marauders is what kept me, so this role-play truly is the perfection combination. I have been looking for a group to join for some time now and your group has one of the freshest and most unique concepts I’ve ever seen! Plus, it is obvious the passion and care that has gone into creating this group. I am excited to potentially be a part of the journey and see where the story takes us all together.

EXTRA FOR NON-BIO CHARACTERS

CHARACTER CONTRIBUTION

Katie possesses a lot of versatility with her character. She naturally has an outgoing and charismatic personality, and is quick at adapting to her surroundings. She has always been an integral part of whatever community she is a part of—ranging from her time at Hogwarts on the quidditch team, in the dueling club, or Dumbledore’s Army; to her career beyond the castle’s walls. She has proved herself a loyal friend to many. I think her experience being cursed by the Opal Necklace makes her an imperative character because she has knowledge from that ordeal others might not be equipped with, which she has channeled into a career within the Ministry of Magic as an Unspeakable.

I headcanon that when Katie was cursed by the necklace during her seventh year, she spent a large portion of her time in St. Mungo’s unconscious. During this period she had an out of body experience where she thought she was dead. She tightly holds onto the secret that she visited what may be known to some as limbo, purgatory, or the underworld out of fear of being labelled crazy. She doesn’t dismiss her experience though; she clings to it, and it to effects every aspect of her life.

Katie’s brush with death made her obsessed with the idea of it. Since the war’s conclusion she has tried to dissect the mechanics of life and death, but had no success. Everyday feels the exact same; she is capped out with little to show for her efforts. That is, until the first of the returned makes their appearance through the veil. This ignites a new obsession in Katie all over again.

PRESENT

“ Have you heard? ” A stocky Unspeakable buzzed with excitement as he pushed passed Katie and exited the elevator lift.

“ Heard what? ” The woman quipped in his direction as she rubbed her tired eyes, but by the time she gathered her senses he was already hurrying off down the corridor. Katie shrugged her shoulders back and dismissed the interaction before continuing along in the same direction. Unusual occurrences were the norm in this part of the Ministry so she didn’t think much of it. She was already getting a late start on her day anyway so she decided to quicken her pace as she rounded the corner leading to her dual office/laboratory, where she was forced to stop abruptly when she came across a throng of other Unspeakables littering the hallway. Katie quirked a brow upon the realization everyone was huddled near the Death Chamber.

“ What is going on? ” She asked the same Unspeakable who she spotted standing nearby.

“ You don’t know? ” Emerson gaped, which annoyed Katie slightly. “ They are saying someone has returned through the veil. ”

“ What do you mean ‘returned through the veil?’ I didn’t realize we were trying to send anyone to the other-side— ”

“ No, someone no longer living returned through the veil. They came back from the dead. ”

“ Impossible, ” Katie uttered in protest, but her own near-death experience quickly replayed in her head. She was only seventeen when she swore she too briefly died, so maybe it wasn’t impossible for the dead to return after all.

“ No really, a boy was found wandering the corridors naked this morning. Creevy is what they’re calling him. ”

Katie stood silent for a moment as she processed what she had just been informed. “ Someone came back to life? Through the veil? ” The witch repeated as her dark eyes swirled with sudden intensity. Emerson merely nodded. “ I sure picked a hell of a day to be late. ” She concluded completely gobsmacked.

“ You won’t make that mistake again, ” Emerson chuckled before disappearing off into the crowd to try and sneak a closer look.

And he was right. From that day forward, Katie was never late again. She always put her best foot forward when it came to her career, but the stakes suddenly felt like they had been raised even higher upon the departed’s return. The one thing she now knows for certain is that this might be the only opportunity she has to find answers to the questions that have been tormenting her for the last six years—and she doesn’t plan on letting this moment pass her by like she did unwittingly the last one.

[witchquarium]

PICK A CARD READING

Past life

So, before I begin, the three decks I am using are the Deviant Moon Tarot, the Black Prism Oracle, and the Flowers of the Night Oracle. For each one, they have their own significance to the pile.

Deviant Moon: Who the past life was, what were they.

Black Prism: What they did in the life, what happened.

Flowers of the Night: Their personality/goals.

(You can’t see the crystals real well 😔)

Pile One:

Rose Quartz and Rutilated Quartz

Compassionate farmer who picked their words carefully.

First, lets start off with who this life was. A worker, you were a worker who took their job seriously and did the same routine. You were a professional with no desire to go and do something different. You were married, in a very nice home. You had a happy and everlasting marriage with you and your partner. The sickle and the hand told me that this person was a farmer, great at what they did and were prosperous. When selling their crops, they knew how to sell it to their customers. They had the right words and controlled their minds practically. Though living a very simple life, this person was very centered around family and love. Being very compassionate and loving, they were in tune with their emotions. This person was quite wise and patient. They took the time to cultivate their spiritual and personal wellbeing.

Pile Two:

Malachite and Lapis Lazuli

Passionate yet strong soldier.

Pulling the Ten of Swords told me that this life was accepting of misfortune and suffering, patient and with an amazingly strong mind. The Chariot showing that this person broke through the misfortune and willed itself into being a strong and passionate storm. The ram leads me to believe that the conflict that caused the suffering was from this person’s stubbornness. Though being strong, being a bit too headstrong leaded them into a bad situation that should’ve resulted in submission. The Moon supports the idea of the strong mind as well, always keeping up their own spirit and dreaming of the better life they can have, never giving up. Again, the ideals of Motivation and Passion show up again with the Flowers of the Night cards. Though this pile doesn’t have a very strong presence of their role and job, I believe that this person was a soldier, subjected to war.

Pile Three:

Selenite and Amethyst

The insecure ‘wrestler’ with a conflicted mind.

Strength, showing that this ‘wrestler’ is confident in their own strength. Their insecurities could lead them to their demise, but the wrestler tames it. Using this strength as an act to put on show, this person is quite likely struggling, hoping to find refuge. The heavy weight of guilt and shadows from their past follow. This person faces financial issues, and the poor working environment and little pay they get takes a toll on their wellbeing. Approaching the holy church in the Five of pentacles represents the Eye, the eye watching their movements and wondering if they should be allowed in. Conspiring with the people indoors, who have locked the door tightly to keep darkness out. The snake, being jealous of those able to have better lives than them. This person is mature and knows levels of importance. Knowing certain things should be worried about more than others. Being focused on getting what is needed, they are committed to looking at every possibility that presents itself to them.

Pile Four:

Blue Kyanite and Ruby in Zoisite

A skilled ruler over their mind and kingdom, not their heart.

A powerful Emperor/Empress (Not sure about gender, could’ve been a female leader! Though I’m using this cards meaning.) who knew themselves well. They have mastered their own mind and present their confidence and victories as trophies. They suffer from distracting thoughts, them leading to an untimely demise. Greed pulls at their heartstrings and desires want to rule over your actions. This leader has mastered their mind, but their heart still is a struggle. The crown helps support the idea of King/Queen or Emperor/Empress, showing their victories are quite important to who they are. The vessel however, shows that this person is indeed, human too. Being flexible in their heart and their heart being open compared to their strong mind that rules over their being. Their heart needs improvement, but this persons luck was admirable, having the wealth and abundance and people at their service.

That was it! Wow.. I’m exhausted. This was my second Pick a Card reading and I’m quite satisfied with it. Thank you for reading ! Have a blessed day!

[yue-muffin]

I finished Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance for the first time and wow, am I impressed. Having only played the 3DS era games and started Sacred Stones recently, I came to expect a certain range of quality and reach in terms of story. There are games that I found not overly complex but executed well (Echoes) and ones with a good premise and sloppy execution (Fates). Sacred Stones, so far, is one I find with a simple story done well. I’m not terribly enthralled with it, but there’s nothing there to annoy me either.

Path of Radiance is one of those games that takes the ‘simple/standard FE plot’ path, but the execution is brilliant, filled with both depth and heart despite the story having the same basic beats as many other FEs. I was really impressed with the worldbuilding, the character writing, the gameplay/story integration...

My biggest gripe with Awakening and Fates was that the characters were colorful, but few of them were compelling and many lacked the depth to take them beyond their archetypes. Path of Radiance did a good job making me feel that its characters all had a stake in the outcome of the battles, that they had an actual cause to fight for and didn’t just join the army just because. There is always a bit of contrivance in an FE game, but the quality of the writing can lessen or emphasize that feeling.

The gameplay mechanics change from game to game, and I find it really fun to test out the unique features of each installment and see how they influenced each other. the shoving animations are amazing

People also say this is one of the easiest FE games and I have to say, the bonus exp mechanic is probably why. I love this mechanic because of the way it allows the game to reward the player for taking certain actions encouraged by the story (like wanting to spare as many of the enemy as possible = we’ll give you bonus exp if you do). I, uh, am never doing a stealth run of the prison break chapter again though.

I went ultra vanilla and restricted myself to using only the Greil Mercenaries for this run, and I’ll leave my impressions on this post because half the fun of a FE game is building up your team.

I went with the Greil Mercenaries (+ Mia, because she joins them for the second game) for my first playthrough because otherwise I would have no reason to use both Rolf AND Shinon at the same time and Rhys would just warm the bench the whole game lol. And I was really curious to see Rolf and Shinon’s support line and actually have a use for all of those light magic tomes.

Ike: My Ike didn’t get screwed over in any stat, so absolutely no complaints other than the fact that he refused to proc Aether more than once in the Black Knight fight, making Nasir bail him out at the end of the allotted turns. I supported him with Soren because I wanted to see their support line, and have to say that it worked out really well. I was between Soren and Oscar, but it worked better this way because Oscar was always riding off with Titania at the front and Ike just lags behind unless you dedicate several units + Reyson to shoving him to the frontline. And when you’re using Mist, Rolf, and Soren, that really cuts into the units available for shoving.

Oscar: He, uh, ended up the MVP and netted the most kills in the run. Oscar can become an amazing paladin, but mine was so screwed in the strength stat for much of the early game that I had to abuse the bexp mechanic at the base to ensure he didn’t keep lagging behind. His defenses were super good by the end, and the little damage he did take was mitigated by activating Sol every other hit. Also, I have a bias for calvary units, so. Oscar. Loved him.

Titania: I...I love Titania. I love her character. She plays her role perfectly as the super strong unit who is there to support you in the beginning and falls off a little towards the end. She can still hold her own in the endgame, however, and I have no regrets for relying on her early on. There is so much experience to be had in normal mode that she doesn’t really rob anyone else of it unless you go ham and let her destroy everything. In the end, I gave her Savior so she can help deliver chip damage and save Shinon’s ass, I mean, rescue drop people.

Boyd: Super frustrating and nerve wracking to train, super hard hitter who still keeps you on your toes by the end. He is the most lopsided unit I have ever used (comparatively low defenses, speed, and skill compared to his attack and HP) but he was definitely fun and made sure I didn’t get too complacent. I don’t normally use fighters/axe units in the modern games because their accuracy is shit, their defenses are even more shit, and why bother with the headache. Once you can forge Boyd a good iron axe, though, his performance becomes more consistent. I did keep Tempest on him for a while, because I find it fun to use the skills a unit comes with, but I took it off eventually. It does help in certain situations when his hit rate isn’t so good (having the biorhythm doubled then is helpful).

Soren: I have a bias for this little asshole, lol. He’s a standard mage, basically. Kind of annoying to train in the beginning because he can barely take a hit, his movement is low, and MAGIC MAKES THE EMULATOR CRASH SOMETIMES, but if you can stick it out, you’ll be rewarded in the end with a unit that doesn’t care about how physically bulky any enemy is and can take down dragons with ease (plus, he heals A LOT because of his high magic stat even with a basic heal staff). I will admit, he’s a walking liability if Ike isn’t his support partner and magic in this game is slightly annoying because each element has its own weapon rank. He basically ate all of my Arms Scrolls because he has FOUR ranks to build (including the staff rank) and all of them have their uses, so I didn’t have him concentrate in one or the other. Although he gets weighed down by a lot of tomes because he is a twig, mine capped speed and didn’t have a problem doubling the dragons in the endgame with Thoron.

Rhys: One of the reasons I did a Greil Mercenaries run haha. He’s not a bad healer. It’s just that there’s benefit to training Mist as your main healer for that one fight later on, and having a team with THREE HEALERS is overkill (unless for whatever reason you made one of your mages use knives...). The problem is that while Soren can take a hit and Mist can run away, Rhys can do neither. His magic stat is very good though, and he was objectively better than my Mist by the end except that he wasn’t on a horse. He was really useful for the endgame since I gave him the Purge tome. Finally, he didn’t have to risk his neck to actually fight. I lowkey love his character though. 

Mist: She is so cute, but mine was so screwed in the stats department. If not for bexp, it would have been a nightmare to train her and Rhys at the same time. I early promoted both of them, but getting her to level 10 was hard. Mine ended up getting magic on so few level ups, that I gave her two spirit dusts by the endgame and it was still amazingly low. Her strength stat was 13. 13!! I love the horse, though. Makes her a lot easier to use once promoted. She has no shoving capabilities, though, whereas Rhys (frail, sickly man he is) can shove like half the army. Go figure.

Mia: I love Mia. She can have my heart and run with it. In newer games I tend not to use mercenaries/swordmasters because their movement is kind of eh, their dodge-tank capabilities are not that impressive, and I don’t like relying on crits too much, but Mia was such an awesome addition to the team. It can be a bit difficult to train her in the beginning given her low defense, HP, and strength, but once she gets going, she wrecks things like nobody’s business. Would have liked to do some Wrath combos with her, but mine had Vantage and Adept and that worked just fine with a Killing Edge or a forged sword of some sort. The only issue is her super low strength cap (22?? really??) but the reliability of her crits and/or skill procs make up for that if you can get her past the early game.

Rolf: ROLF. Literally only viable because of bexp. I actually really love how they wrote his character, but what were they thinking by making him join so late, with such low bases AND his strength growth isn’t even that good (40%, less than Oscar’s). All else could be forgiven if his strength growth was at least 50% like his speed. If you can’t actually do damage, there’s no point. Once you pour exp into him like nobody’s business, he can actually be a good unit. I do really like using him, and mine got enough defense and resistance that he wasn’t a liability, but he definitely needs investment. On the other hand, his hit rates were so good that Gamble actually worked well on him.

Shinon: The racist asshole whose only redeeming quality is his relationship with Rolf. I loved their support chain, and actually I do like how the game put him on our team (after giving you a hard time recruiting him) because of how it brings an element of realism makes these characters more human, but yikes he’s potentially worse than Rolf to train because of how long he’s gone for. If you put aside the need for even more bexp to use him, he’s a pretty good crit unit. And he can surprisingly take a hit once trained. I left Provoke on him and BOY he nearly got himself killed in the endgame, but it is pretty nice to draw aggro in order to get some enemies closer for the foot-locked units to kill.

Gatrie: I miss tanks. Newer games make them so much less fun to use because they don’t tank very well (I’m looking at you, Fates...). Gatrie can’t get places fast and only laguz can shove him, but it was fun having someone who can take a million hits and soften enemies up for the others to take care of. He can’t really one round anything because he can’t double and leaves them with a few hit points left (except if he procs Luna) but he’s a worth while addition to the team. Takes a bit of bexp though, since he often doesn’t get as many kills as the rest.

Reyson: Not a Greil Mercenary, but like I was going to pass up a dancer singer who can refresh FOUR units. It was a pain in the behind to get the Knight Ring, but he does make really good use of it. He can also use the Full Guard ring so he can enter certain areas without being murdered by ballistas. I love his bird form, and the fact that frail heron man can SHOVE people who the tiny people in my army can’t (Mist, Rolf, Soren, I’m looking at you). no but really, Reyson’s character is actually really good too, I like him. 

It was, uh, interesting getting through some of these chapters without a flier. Absolutely not necessary to have one, and if it was a chapter where I kind of needed someone, I just used Tanith or Janaff (the Naesala chapter was the only one that was annoying without a trained flier).

I genuinely had no idea who to stick skills on, haha. This was an interesting system where you really had to think about who to give a skill since they’re like old TMs in Pokemon...one use only. I like to have some limitations in the skill system though, unlike Awakening and Fates where it’s a free for all. I just like the more limited set of options.

[shamandrummer]

Soul Flight: A Spiritual Prescription for Coronavirus

I am not a medical professional or an expert on epidemics. I leave the critical information in those important fields for the experts who have the appropriate training to help us get through the coronavirus pandemic. Even though I do not possess medical knowledge, as a shamanic practitioner, I believe I can try to humbly prescribe a vaccine that can heal the spirit -- the soul flight or shamanic journey. In the shamanic world, all healing begins with the spirit.

Shamanism is based on the principle that innate wisdom and guidance can be accessed through the inner senses in ecstatic trance. Basically, shamanic journeying is a way of communicating with your inner or true self and retrieving information. Your inner self is in constant communication with all aspects of your environment, seen and unseen. You need only journey within to find answers to your questions. You should have a question or objective in mind from the start. Shamanic journeying may be undertaken for purposes of divination, for personal healing, or for any number of other reasons. After the journey, you must then interpret the meaning of your trance experience.

Drumming (or listening to a shamanic drumming recording) is a simple and effective way to induce this ecstatic trance state. When a drum is played at an even tempo of three to four beats per second for at least fifteen minutes, most novices report that they can journey successfully even on their first attempt. Transported by the driving beat of the drum; the shamanic traveler journeys to the inner planes of consciousness: the Upper, Middle, and Lower Worlds. You should always journey with a purpose, question or intention. Some good reasons to take a shamanic journey at this challenging time are….

1. To reconnect with your inner or spirit self: Shamanic journeying heightens the ability of perception and enables you to see into the deeper realms of the self. The moment you bond with your spirit is the moment your heart opens. The first time you glimpse your spirit self, you gasp and cry. You know who you are. That is the moment you begin to heal. Journey work reconnects us to our core, enhancing our sense of empowerment and stimulating our creative expression.

2. To clarify life purpose: When we are unaware of our soul's true purpose or simply not aligned in our actions, we often experience a malaise of the spirit. We can engage the blueprint of our soul path through the vehicle of journeying. Shamanic journeying is a time-tested medium for individual self-realization. We can journey within to access wisdom and energies that can help awaken our soul calling and restore us to wholeness. Journey work reconnects us with our deepest core values and our highest vision of who we are and why we are here. It heightens our sense of mission and purpose, empowering our personal evolution.

3. To access a higher power: Shamanism provides a secular approach to accessing a higher power. Shamanic methodology directly supports the introduction of spiritual factors found significant in the healing process. According to the American Journal of Public Health, "Shamanic activities bring people efficiently and directly into immediate encounters with spiritual forces, focusing the client on the whole body and integrating healing at physical and spiritual levels. This process allows them to connect with the power of the universe, to externalize their own knowledge, and to internalize their answers; it also enhances their sense of empowerment and responsibility. These experiences are healing, bringing the restorative powers of nature to clinical settings."

4. To divine information: You can journey within to obtain information about personal and community issues. Your helping spirits are a good resource when it comes to answering questions pertaining to relationships, health issues, or any issue. To divine information in a journey, begin with a clear question that you would like to ask of your helping spirits. Decide which of your helping spirits you would like to answer your question, and then journey to the place where you normally meet them in non-ordinary reality. Of course you can ask your question to as many of your helping spirits as you wish. When divining or healing on behalf of others, it is vital that you have their permission.

5. To develop relationships with the helping spirits who dwell in the three inner planes of consciousness -- the Upper, Middle, and Lower Worlds: Shamanism is a sacred call to build relationship with the caretakers in the unseen world who want to support the earth and her inhabitants at this time. These helping spirits might be the spirits of nature, animals, plants, the elements, or ancestors. The reason for developing personal relationships with spirit helpers is to gain wisdom, healing techniques, and other vital information that can benefit the community. Similar to the way friendships develop gradually, our relationships with spirits grow and deepen based on repeated interaction and building trust over time.

6. To reconnect with benevolent ancestors: Your ancestors and the collective spiritual power of all those who went before you reside in the spirit world. When your own time comes to pass on, you will become part of this vast collective unconscious. If you embark on a journey with the intention of connecting with those who have passed, they may come to meet you. Keep in mind that spirits choose to come into relationship with the person seeking. You can seek ancestral spirits, but the spirits must choose.

7. To prepare for death: Shamans believe that learning to leave the physical body is important, for without this experience, the soul may become confused after death and remain stuck in the Middle World. When a person dies, there is usually a smooth transition into the afterlife, but when a person suffers a traumatic death, they may not have an awareness of who and where they are. This makes it difficult for them to make their journey to the afterlife. Other souls linger in the space between life and the afterlife for fear of going to hell. Sadly, most of the psychopomp rites of passage that once helped prepare a person for death have disappeared. Hence, journeying is one of the most important shamanic skills that we can develop. By journeying to the Lower World, the place to which human souls travel upon physical death, we can prepare for our own death. That said, perhaps the most compelling reason to journey is...

8. To find ways to restore balance in the world: As anthropologist and author Felicitas Goodman points out, "One of the most pervasive traditions of shamanic cultures is the insight that there exists a patterned cosmological order, which can be disturbed by human activity." When harmony between the human realm and the original intended pattern is disturbed, the shaman makes a spirit journey to the Upper World to bring back the balance. Shamans also go there to acquire archetypal knowledge, to bring a vision into being, or to influence events in the material world. By interacting with the archetypes, the shaman interacts with their counterparts in the outer world.

Try a Shamanic Journey

To enter a trance state and support your journey, click here to listen to a track from my CD "Shamanic Journey Drumming." Reflect for a moment on the purpose of your journey, and then close your eyes. Focus your attention on the sound of the drum and feel yourself being carried away by the sound. If for any reason you want to return, just retrace your steps back. You will hear a call back signal near the end of the video, followed by a short period of slow heartbeat drumming to assist you in refocusing your awareness back to your physical body. Sit quietly for a few moments, and then open your eyes.

After the journey, you must then interpret the meaning of your trance experience.  In some cases, your journey experiences will be clear and easy to understand. At other times, your journey may be dreamlike and full of symbolism. Interpret such journeys as you would any dream. Look for possible associations related to each symbol or image. The key is to observe whatever happens without trying to analyze the experience. Like developing any skill, journeying takes practice. Nothing may happen on your first journeys. You may only experience darkness. When this happens, simply try again at a different time.