#look I just accept it as part of the genre. Magic is real; royalty is good; 14-year-olds are perfectly appropriate in your army

[regallibellbright]

Bro's playing Vestaria Saga

Bro, after establishing a few plot things including how a character is 14 during an earlier event and how she's needed on this map: A year has passed, she's 15 now. *Beat* They're all child soldiers, by the way.

Me: Well, of course! What self-respecting Fire Emblem-esque turn-based tactical game DOESN'T have child soldiers?

Bro: *A lengthy pause as he is visibly in thought* Gaiden only has one.

Me: Two, Genny's fifteen.

[imdifferentshadesofpurple]

from the Anchors & Arrows series A Siren’s Agreement : Part 1

Pairing: Mark Tuan x Reader Genre: pirate!au; sea faring!au; fantasy au 

Royalty was always meant for royalty.  Water or land, it did not matter.

Those that wore the crown were destined for each other. 

That’s what you tell Mark on the deck of his ship. You try to convince him that once there was peace. 

Loyalty and love.

The look on his face as the sun bore down on him and his men was not the face of someone who believed. 

And why would he? He was raised to kill creatures like you. And now one comes to him and says everything he’s ever known is a lie?

You wouldn’t believe either.

Which is why you’re now 50 feet under water, staring into the cold eyes of the Sea Queen.

You mother.

It’s no surprise she came to find you. The waters were not always safe and your people were extra cautious when they knew the Milo was out at sea.

“Please tell me,” your mother growled, “you did not dare do what I think you did.”

Silence.

If possible, her eyes glowed an even stronger red as she neared you.

“If you want him to keep his tongue, you’ll answer me child.”

Even though tied up in the strongest seaweed, Mark looked regal and haughty, as if he wasn’t being held prisoner at the bottom of the ocean.

“It had to be done. I apologize for my rash behavior but it was the only way and you are well aware of the circumstances Your Majesty.”

The hand on your cheek and the slap that follows surprises the Prince, you see it in his eyes as your head jolts violently to the side from the action. It stings, merfolk are not immune to pain, but it’s the flaring embarrassment that momentarily colors your pale cheeks.

Be strong.

You steel yourself fir what’s next, holding your ground as you face her once more. 

Your mother’s anger is boiling, water around her hot as she tries to reign her temper in. It’s just the three of you out in open water, the Milo unmoving above you as its crew members remain frozen in time.

When she had found you, she had sensed the magic and had come alone.  Unorthodox for a Queen but you know why, the reasoning behind the that decision. 

No one truly knew just how cruel she could be. How cruel she was.

Yes, she was an able ruler, one that thought of her people before even her own family. But beneath the strength and her ever wise decisions, there was a mermaid that burned like the sun with a heart filled with bitterness.

You were not her only daughter but you were the only one that would even dare to pull a stunt like this.

“I should chop off that tail of yours and leave you in the weed with your beloved prince,” she hissed. Pulling your face tightly between two fingers, she scowled and whispered, “You know critical times are right now Y/N. How could you even think about exposing your magic to a ship full of pyrates?”

The pain burned through you but you held your ground, held her gaze, until she let go.

“People are dying mother. Humans and merfolk alike. You know there must be a union. The magic must be passed in order for both species to survive. You’re sitting your throne just waiting for us to finally go extinct!”

She looked offended, backing away momentarily. “Waiting? Waiting? You stupid girl, I’m trying to fix our problem. I’m trying to save us without having to shackle ourselves to them!” She points at Mark, eyes wild. 

“You hate humans but we are destined mother. We cannot survive without them, and they us. We are running out of time.”

“So your idea was a Siren’s Agreement? Blood mixed with blood, a bond only broken in death. You give up your tail, your magic, and become a bride of a royal from the Empire for a year? That’s your freedom Y/N, the ocean.”

You turn to Mark and you watch him absorb the information your mother just disclosed. 

“A year does not compare to death.”

Your mother’s voice was sad. “Sometimes the year is death.”

Time is still frozen when your feet hit the deck. Mark’s crew remained unmoving, staring at the spot you both stood before disappearing. You take tentative steps forward as he examines his now suddenly dry garments. Your mother’s voice echoes around in your head until his breaks through.

“Explain to me what just happened.” You chuckle bitterly, “What, it wasn’t self explaining?”

“That was the Queen. Ruler if the ocean. And your mother.”

Your silence is all the confirmation he needs so he presses on. “You asked me, before she whisked us away, if I knew what a Siren’s Agreement was. Everything she said, was it true? The agreement includes you living on land as a human? A bride for whatever royal is willing to marry you?”

You wince at the way he says it but nod nonetheless. Your eyes meet his and your gaze hardens, “It would be a sacrifice I’d be willing to make for my people”

“And mine. Considering I’d be the royal in that little sentence.”

A beat passes. 

“Your mother is lovely princess.” “She is bitter,” you bite back, ”with good reason.”

“We are not meant to be friends, let alone spouses,” he replies, “my job is to kill you. You couldn’t possibly believe I’d accept a marriage proposal.”

You turn on him, “I know very well what your job is. But the magic gained in the union between our kind ad yours brings peace. It guarantees life. And loyalty.”

“Humans have peace.”

Time was starting to move, your mother’s magic ending. His first mate Eunwoo was freed first and his eyes widened at the sight of both of you. He moved quickly down the steps of the bridge, the rest of the crew reanimating. Your own magic moves through you as you inch nearer to the ship’s bow. Mark jolts forward as if to follow you into the depths, catching himself at the last moment.

“Humans have peace,” he repeats, just as Eunwoo reaches for his elbow. Your smile holds the same sadness your mother’s voice did, wind picking up and your legs returning to its shimmering tail.

“...then you’re not paying enough attention dear prince.”

And then you jumped, lost to the sea spray as the main deck comes alive again.

You don’t return home, can’t return and face her. Your plan most likely did not work and now you didn’t know what to do.

For now, you retreated to your sanctuary, a hidden spot in the outskirts of Ered you discovered when adventuring as a child. As the years passed and you grew older, you found yourself there more and more, the silence better than the self loathing at home. 

It held small trinkets of your youth, things collected from your time away from your family. It’s not like your own quarters in the palace but you feel relief when you settle on the ground, tucked away from your failures in the quiet beating of your own heart. 

You don’t know what your next step is, unsure if there even is a next step. You don’t even know if you can go home. Your siblings will have already heard of your treachery, no doubt exaggerated by your mother.

No, for now you catch your breath. Because as you lie in your hideaway, you realize whether or not your plan worked, you did the one things forbidden of you.

You gave a human more knowledge than any should hold. You told a human of magic.

The Milo reached Khotia quicker than planned, much to Mark’s dismay.

“At least there’s no fanfare,” Eunwoo grinned, stretching his long arms over his head. “If there was another parade, you would’ve sulked all through the feast.”

Mark would’ve replied with some crude remark but chose to only growl instead, shoving past him as he made his way down the dock.

He was back on land. And back to being a prince.

“Where are you going Your Majesty,” Eunwoo yells from behind him.

To Zemër.

Zemër, a tavern settled off the docks, was a pyrate’s favorite place to unwind once their feet hit solid ground. Run by Kiraz, a former Queen’s Guard, the four walls echoed with laughter, foul words and plenty of secrets.

The only reason it was still standing, besides the fact it kept the kingdom's unsavory in one place, was because Kiraz saved Mark’s sister one.

Sacrificed her sight but had the royal family forever in her debt.

It was too early for any real noise so when Mark entered, he was unsurprised to find her standing at the bar cleaning glasses. A waft of lavender and spices hit his senses as she turned towards him, snow white hair flying up with the movement. Her crimson lips curled into a grin as he sat himself in front of her.

“You are really early Your Highness,” she teased. Roux, her right hand man and in house giant passes just then, boxes piled high in his arms and a single nod sent his way.

“You know the Milo is quick,” he says, sending his own nod back tot he man as he disappeared around the corner. She tsks, shaking her head, enticing more of that scent his way. “Now you and I both know news of that siren has already reached shore.”

He clenched his jaw in irritation, “How far up shore exactly?” She shrugs, “Not far enough but it’s only a matter of time. The Mermaid Killer let a creature go free. Was she at least pretty?”

He thought back tot he encounter, back to your face as your mother’s hand collided with your cheek.

Yes, he thought. “No,” he said aloud.

“Learn to lie better Mark,” she replied, “I’m blind but your hesitation reads a mile away. I hope you can do better than that when returning home. Having feelings for a mermaid won’t sit well with your parents.”

“There are no feelings Kiraz, by the heavens. She’s a siren.” “...exactly.”

There’s silence, aside from the grumbling of a few leftover drunkards. And then, “You’re here for information.” He never came for anything else. He was only a pyrate out on the water. He slides his prepared payment her way, “I need to know the history of a mermaid’s magic.”

Kiraz inhales sharply, dropping the glass she held, the noise of it shattering bouncing against the inside of the tavern. Mark is surprised, she’s usually so terrifyingly calm, even more so when she grabs his sleeve and hisses to the back quickly, vanishing behind the curtain. 

When he emerges on the other side, she immediately turns on him, “She showed you her magic?”

He nods, cautious. “Not that willingly. It was in desperation. She wanted to know if I knew what a Siren’s Agreement was.”

“...you don’t. Or you wouldn’t be here.” “Kiraz, do not forget who you’re speaking with. We’ve done this dance plenty of times.”

She chuckles, bowing at the waist, “Of course Prince Mark. A Siren’s Agreement. Blood mixed with blood. And a year spent on land.”

Mark remembers the Sea Queen’s words. Sometimes the year is death.

“Why don’t I know about a mermaid’s magic?” Kiraz moves off to the side, cutting tape off inventory boxes. ‘Most likely hidden. There hasn’t been a union in years.”

“A union between a royal, mermaid and human.” “...yes. Long ago, a mermaid’s magic kept the land and sea prosperous. Trade was common, as was merfolk on land.”

He remembered your transformation, your legs.

“From your silence, I assume that’s how the creature caught your attention.” He didn’t answer so she continued, “It used to be harmonious. We thrived together. Royals from land and sea, joined in together and united in old, powerful magic.”

“Until?” She sighed, “A misunderstanding. Although, it depends on who you ask. Some not as kind as I consider it traitorous.”

“Traitorous.” “The Queen Aylin, wife of the great King Asriel. I assume you remember what your tutors taught you.”

He did. “It was a time of great peace. Their union brought the Empire together. It was said that the Queen’s kindness balanced, and tamed, the King’s temper.”

“And?” “And she bore six children before passing. The king was devastated.”

Her smile was discouraging.

“History lied. She passed, yes. But a mermaid’s magic is tied to the sea. And to the love they’ve chosen on land. Queen Aylin wished to return to the ocean to strengthen her magic. And she wished to take the children. She promised to return, for she loved her husband and her life in the Kingdom of Muiria, but she grew weak on legs and needed to grow strong.”

Laced with confusion, Mark asked, “But you said merfolk on land was common.”

“Ah, but she was royal. And Asriel was afraid she’d disappear, steal his heirs and the magic away into the sea spray. He grew paranoid, his council feeding his fears like a hungry beast.”

He knew in his heart what happened next. Murder. He killed her.

“...the magic didn’t pass onto the children?” When her magic died, so did theirs.

“The princess, the siren that appeared in front of me, she said I wasn’t paying enough attention when I told her humans had peace.”

“She’s smart, that creature. You can’t see past the bow of the Milo. The land is dying. The Empire is afraid. And you honestly haven’t noticed the receding water?

He hadn’t.

“Kiraz,” he said, determination coloring his tone. She grinned, “Yes, Your Majesty?”

“How do I summon a siren?”

You feel the summons, deep within your bones, as the water shifts around you. 

The magic calling to you is strong and for a moment, you think it’s your mother beckoning you home. When feet hit solid ground and the foam dissipates, you’re surprised to see Prince Mark and a woman you don’t recognize off to his right.

“Your Majesty,” you say calmly, honestly too tired to be on alert. You could only hope you hadn’t just been summoned to the sit of your own murder. 

“Princess. Kiraz told me you merfolk can only be summoned to a place if you accept the magic. So I’m a little...”

You sigh, “In all honesty prince, I thought you were my mother demanding I come home.”

He frowns, “You...she banished you?” “My mother is cruel but she’d never risk losing another child. So no, not banished. I simply have yet to return.”

“So she was pretty.” Your attention shifts to the unfamiliar female. Her stark white hair was free against her shoulders, past the small of her back. She was dressed in military style clothing, trousers tucked into long black boots and a form fitting but loose white tunic buttoned all the way up to her neck. Her fingers were adorned in all gold jewelry, rings of all sizes. Her red lips were curled into a smile and her eyes...

“I could be hideous,” you casually say.

Her laugh was loud, “I don’t need to see you to know you’re beautiful princess,” she bows, “Kiraz. Welcome to my establishment.

That name.

“Kiraz Brum. Famed warrior of the Queen’s Guard. You know, you’re a story we tell children to frighten them.”

Kiraz grins, “What an honor. I hope my name served its purpose.” “Children stay away from the borders of Khotia so...yes. I’d say it works quite efficiently. Now, if I could? Why have you summoned me? And how? How did you know the ritual?”

She shrugs, moving backwards to sit on a nearby crate. “The why is his department. The how? Let’s just say I picked up that little tidbit when I was still employed by the royals.”

You mirrored her action, sitting on whatever was nearest, which also happened to be a crate. “A story for another time. Well, Your Majesty? Twice in 24 hours is unique to say the least. What do you want?”

Mark, silent up until now, crossed his arms. “The last union between our kind was Queen Aylin and her human husband, the great King Asriel.”

You mood suddenly soured. “Great would be too kind an adjective.” “Would murderer work better?”

“Ah, I see. Kiraz has opened those eyes of yours. Yes. Your great King Asriel, deep within his own madness and paranoid, killed his queen. You see, a Siren’s Agreement is a partnership. Blood mixed with blood. To keep the peace, for the land and sea to prosper, a mermaid’s magic must remain strong. And to feed that strength, the time spent on solid ground must match the time in Ered. Each royal pair understood the terms of the agreement and continued to honor them until your great Asriel made it impossible for the merfolk to trust humans again.”

“The council convinced him she was a traitor taking his children and the magic he considered his,” Mark whispered.

He couldn’t believe it, not really. Everything he’s been told, been taught, to what end? Why hide history?

“Why not learn from those mistakes,” he asks out loud, “why enter into a war that they know will never end?

You watch him process the truth, watch his safe walls crumble around him. And for a moment, you mourn the last bit of his innocence that was slipping away.

“Not everyone enjoyed sharing solid land with the merfolk,” Kiraz reveals, “when Aylin died, the Empire saw it as a chance to return them to the Ered for good.”

Mark meets your eyes, “But something is happening now, that’s why you came to find me.” 

You nod, “The last of the  magic is disappearing. Both land and sea are suffering and will be beyond saving if you don’t join in the agreement with me.”

He frowns, “Why me? There are at least two princes in every kingdom.” Kiraz snorts, “But how many of those princes masquerade as pyrates six months out of every year since he turned 20?”

He glares and you can’t help but laugh, caching them both off guard.

“She has a point,” you hastily reply, “you know the water, thrive on it. Out of every prince of the Empire, I thought you’d be the best option to shackle myself to for a year.”

“Such flattery princess, what kind words.” “I do not want magic to disappear,” your tone growing serious, “merfolk and humans aside, the very foundations of our homes depend on it. I do not know about you dear prince, but I want peace. For everyone.”

The captain whistles, “Do it Mark, she’d be a better diplomat than you.”

Mark doesn’t reply back, just stares at you. Weighing his options before jumping into your crazy scheme. 

“The Empire would never allow it. You mother would never allow it.” “Then we skip the formalities. If you agree, right here in the storage room of a tavern, Kiraz can be the ritual’s witness.”

It’s madness and they’re both floored at the suggestion of a hastily done ceremony in the back room of Zemër but Kiraz speaks first.

“How do you know I know the ritual?” You shrugged, “I assumed. And I assumed correctly, yes?” “...I should stop underestimating you princess.” “A wise choice Captain Brum. Now dear prince, will you refuse my offer a second time?”

It’s all too quick, too hasty of a decision to be made without guidance. Mark knows what his family will do, what the council and people of Khotia would say. Things are not done this way.

But union to a siren, royal or not, was not done at all.

Not to mention his freedom as captain of the Milo. Was he really ready for a year of life on land?

“How do I know this isn’t a trick,” he challenged. “Oh by the heavens,” Kiraz started.

“No, you’re right. For a moment, I forgot our people are enemies. The outer fields of Khotia, just north of the small village of Dimelor. You’ll find the proof you’re searching for in order to believe me. It’s less than a day’s ride for two horses if the captain here wishes to join you. Once you’ve seen, you know how to summon me again.”

Mark’s jaw clenches, eyes narrowing. “And if you’re lying?”

You magic moves around you, shifting you back to your original form. The air smells of sea spray and before you’re deposited back into the Ered, you answer his last question.

“Then dear prince, you can have a princess’ tail.”

Dimelor rests nestled in the mountains, surrounded by green fields and humble homes. The smallest village in the kingdom, it grows produce which is shipped in bulk to the citizens of the main city.

Mark’s mother, the Queen Elinia, spent springs visiting the workers and their families, ensuring not only the health of the fields but the health of their caretakers. Sometimes, she’d bring Mark and he’d play, getting lost in the tall grass. The outer fields were large, housing the bigger vegetables and the man in charge, Lucien Elidior, always snuck treats to him as a boy.

They hug when Mark dismounts his horse Nova.

“You look well my prince, welcome.” Mark smiles gently at the aging man before him. “As do you Lucien. It’s good to see you. You know my associate, Kiraz Brum.”

“Captain,” Lucien replies, bowing slightly. Kiraz grins in return, bending slightly at the waist as well.

“Now what brings you all the way out here?” Mark starts his walk down tot he fields themselves. “I need to see the fields. Shipment is soon as I recall.”

Lucien’s demeanor changes suddenly, his cheery disposition becoming nervous. Mark senses the change right away, noting Kiraz does as well.

“Something wrong Lucien?” The caretaker seems distracted, eyes darting every so often to the bend around the corner.

“Lucien?” His attention snaps back suddenly, “The shipment was early my prince! There’s no produce to oversee. I’m sorry you and the captain came all this way for nothing.”

“I’m blind but even I know you’re lying Lucien,” Kiraz relies smoothly, tucking her hands into her coat as she steps around them both. Lucien tries to intervene but Mark catches his wrist, “Whatever you’re hiding, as your future king, you must tell me.”

The older man looks guilty but nods, following close behind the two. Kiraz is quick on her feet, rounding the bend and getting full view of the fields. When Mark hears her frantically call his name, he picks up his speed before stopping completely in his tracks.

“By the heavens,” he whispers, astonished.

The once lush green fields were barren, weeds in place of towering grass and patches of dry land where fresh produce once grew dotting the area as far as he could see. He couldn’t believe his eye. He remembered what it once was, the beauty that stood before him every time he came to visit. 

“It’s gone Kiraz, she was right,” he turned towards Lucien, “how is this happening? My parents...”

“They are aware Your Majesty,” he replied. “It started a week ago, slow decay from the northwest corner of the fields. We sent a report and your mother ordered us to harvest whatever we could and quickly.”

“Do we know why this is happening,” Kiraz wonders, even though she’s well aware of the magic and its steady disappearance. 

“We are unsure captain. The early morning workers noticed dying vegetables and before we knew it, we were losing almost half of our usual harvest.”

“The other villages,” Mark inquired, worried about the response. “Unaffected for now.”

Thank the heavens.

“My prince,” Lucien slowly began, “you should know. You were never meant to see this. Your mother made it clear you were not to be told.”

“Just me or all her children?” “...you alone.”

Curious.

“Kiraz, head back to Zemër.” “And you?”

“I need to have a word with the Queen.” 

He loved the palace growing up.

While others saw it as a soaring epicenter of power, to Mark it was home. 

Safety. Family. 

But as his 20th birthday approached, he found his home stifling, as if someone had sucked out all its air. The pressure was immense, especially being the eldest boy. His sisters were safe from the responsibilities of slaying mermaids. 

He lived and breathed it.

After his first kill, after returning home a murderous hero, the four walls he had come to love felt like they were slowly closing in. He spent time training off site, missing meals to sweat out his frustrations instead. Alongside Eunwoo, childhood friend turned right hand pyrate, he became at home on the waters of the Ered. His parents never questioned it, his mother’s only complaint besides his safety was how often he found himself away. 

Walking up to them now, regal on their thrones, he wondered what they’d say. He wondered if they’d defend themselves. 

“My boy! We heard you docked early and was curious to know when you’d show your face.”

His father King Laith was a strong man, not necessarily in stature but in every other way. Graying hair didn’t dim his bright smile, nor did it stop the charisma from overflowing. A deadly combination during negotiations. Mark smiled, letting himself get wrapped up in a hug. He threw his arms around the King’s shoulders, spying his mother still atop the dais. From her calm demeanor and calculated smile, he knew she was aware of his quick trip to Dimelor. His suspicions were further confirmed upon seeing Atlas, her peregrine falcon and spy, land on a nearby ledge.

When the two men broke apart, she comes forward, seeping motherly love.

“There he is, safe and sound.”

He lets himself be embraced once more, taking in her scent of lilies and orchids, eyes closing for just a moment.

“Hello Mother.” She smiles, this time a true mother’s smile, kissing his cheek. “It’s good to have you home. Your absence was felt, your brother would much rather spar with you than his aging father.” They laugh at the King’s expense and in moments like this, Mark feels like he’s home again.

The way home once was.

“I miss the Ered already but I cannot wait for my bed. The rest of our overbearing family?”

“Your sisters took a trip to Liaven and should return within the week. And the youngest is off in Muria for two more days overseeing the newly commissioned weapons for our army. We’ll be reunited soon.”

Mark nods and before he knows it, the King is whisked away to meet with the Council and he’s left with his mother and her damn bird.

“You’ve seen the fields.” It wasn’t a question.

Right to the point then.

“Why hide that from me?” “Who’s hiding? You’ve been at sea for almost a year. Getting messages to you is difficult. Plus, agriculture is not your concern.”

“When I am King it will be. And I’ve made aware you gave the orders to purposely keep it away from me. So I’ll ask again. Why?”

Her eyes are cold as they turn towards him. “If we’re in the habit of answering questions, you’ll answer mine first. You’ve never, in 7 years, let a siren go. And now one roams free instead of being spear headed to the deck of the Milo.”

“That wasn’t a question mother.” “Do not test me.”

He’d answer her, truly, if he only he himself knew the answer. Why didn’t he kill you?

“Feelings for a siren will get you killed.” “So will hunger if our fields remain barren.”

A servant arrived then, reporting that the Queen was needed. Good, he had grown tired of this conversation. 

“The crops will be taken care of. You’ll be back on the water soon enough so don’t let yourself get worked up over it. And as for the other issue. Find it. Kill it. Do not be weak now.”

Disappearing around the corner, Mark released a pent up sigh, shutting his eyes to try and stop a growing migraine. “Useless,” he said, the word echoing in the emptiness around him. His mother knew something but would sooner sacrifice Atlas than tell him. He knew it had to do with the magic and it wouldn’t surprise him if his mother knew all the deep dark secrets of the past.

But there was one that would tell him. The Queen would be furious but things were becoming more urgent the longer he was home.

“Mother is livid,” your sister says when she finds you wandering around. 

You had returned home after meeting with the Prince and Kiraz, avoiding places your family could corner you. You forgot that your youngest sister was annoying enough to find you anyway.

“I’m sure she is.. .And I’m sure she’s told you tall tales of  my adventures. But I’m too tired to answer all your burning questions Cathia.”

“Only one question. Was he handsome? They say he is, for a murderer.”

That stop you in your tracks, water growing silent around you. 

Was he? Handsome? It’s not like you were really paying attention. You were preoccupied with more pressing matters. Thinking back, you dig into your memories, pulling a visual of the Prince forward.

Strong build. Dark hair. Striking eyes. He didn’t smile in your presence but you assumed it wouldn’t be all that terrible.

“You could say that,” you casually reply, swimming forward. Your sister follows, looking utterly pleased, “Oh my, very handsome then. You’re blushing Y/N!”

You frown, palm against your cheek, “That is absolutely ridiculous Cathia. He is the Mermaid Killer. I did what I did to save our people, to save magic. Without a union, everything as we know it will die.”

“Wait. A union? What in the great Ered are you talking about?”

Surprise colors Cathia’s features as she pulls you to a stop to face her. “Mother said nothing about a union to that murderer!”

I guess she didn’t tell them everything.

“You have nothing to worry about, Mother stopped anything from progressing. And he shot it down anyway, I am a siren after all.”

You hoped that was enough to appease your little sister but you should’ve known better. Her expression turned irate, “You make it sound as if you simply proposed a union to a random individual and not the human responsible for most of our people’s deaths. The magic might be disappearing but I’d rather disappear into the mist than have you shackled to him.”

“I’d rather live. Mother also disagrees but alas, I made my move. There’s no reason for everyone, everything, to die. A year on land is a sacrifice I can make. If he had accepted.”

Cathia is about to strike back with a rebuttal when your blood runs warm, ceasing any words in your throat. You feel it, a steady thrum in time with the beat of your heart.

I’m being summoned.

Your sister couldn’t here once the ritual was complete, whisking her to wherever the Prince was. You became momentarily frantic as you felt the pull under your skin.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you quickly say, “just leave me be for now, I beg you.”

You can plainly see in her eyes she has more to say, biting her lip apprehensively. You’re hoping she drops it, almost shouting in relief when she agrees and makes you promise to return home safely. 

“And don’t you dare do anything rash,” she scolds. You could almost laugh.

“I promise. Now go on, I’ll be fine.”

It’s when she’s finally out of sight that the thrum is at its strongest, taking you away in the current and out of the Ered.

Mark’s grandmother, the former Queen Freya, lived high up in the Thelorian Mountains, away from the main court and the royal family.

He could still remember cllimbing the very same steps he was now, small legs trying to keep up with her as she ascended quickly. Freya was the only royal that supported the idea of siren equality, living in peace with other species. Her beliefs were considered radical, whispers in court starting up behind her back. Soon she retired to the mountains, commissioning a home away from judgement in and out of the palace.

Being out on the sea kept him from her much more than he would like, the journey to see her even father than the outer fields of Dimelor. 

“If you mother discovers you’re here, she’ll have headaches for days,” his grandmother yells, hands on her hips as she stands at the top of the stairs.

He grins, sprinting up the last few steps and into her embrace. “You’re not as in shape as I thought you’d be Yien,” she teased.

“We both know you’re in much better shape than all of us combined năinai.”

She pinches his cheek, “Flattery will get you nowhere boy. Tell me why you’ve come to see an old woman up in the mountains.”

She takes his hand, grasping tightly as they walk the path to the main house. Built under the cover titanic wisteria trees, Freya’s estate spanned most of the upper hills, the flattest parts stable enough to build upon. It was created to ensure the former Queen’s safety and comfort, away from the citizens that didn’t share the same views.

Tea was waiting when they arrived, liquid steaming as his grandmother beckoned him to sit. “So. Something has happened. What’s going on?”

“Năinai, what do you know about Siren Agreements? About a union between our kind and theirs, a joining of magic?”

Freya eyes her grandson. “You finally know about the fields.” Mark’s eyes widened, “You know about that?”

She laughed, “I might live up here like a recluse but I was once Queen. And many still follow me. Of course I know things. The question is, what do you know?”

“I know things have been hidden from me. And I know taking a siren wife may save our dying land.”

“...marriage? My dear boy, a union doesn���t need to be matrimony.”

What?

Freya sits back in her chair disregarding her tea. “A union between a siren and a human is a Siren’s Agreement, yes. Blood mixed with blood, a joining of magic. The siren must spend the minimum of a year on land in order for both lands to prosper.”

“But Queen Aylin and King Asriel had children.” “ Yes, six. But not all unions result in children. Aylin, after her year, realized she had fallen in love, and vice versa. Hence, a wedding. If you’re to join in such an agreement, it doesn’t mean gold rings on your fingers.”

Which means I can still be out at sea. I can still captain the Milo.

“How is it you know so much?” She chuckles, “A Queen must be aware Yien. Just because I’m up here and everyone down there has forgotten what sirens have done for us, doesn’t meant I have to as well.”

“Forgotten? What do you  mean?”

With a sigh, she crosses her legs. “Your tutors taught you nothing then. Truly. The real history they kept hidden so people would hate a species that were once our allies. Listen closely dear. Sirens are strong and yes, they can be dangerous. But once, a very long time ago, we lived peacefully. The land and the sea were thriving in harmony. When one needed help, the other came to their aid. A partnership. Love. Friendship.”

Birds chirped overhead, filling the silence between them both. Freya watched her grandson filter through the overload of information, a pensive look on his face paired with a frown set between his brows. 

“Sweetheart, why are you here? Or rather, how are you here? How did you come to be aware of all this? You, the famed Mermaid Killer.”

He scoffed with a hint of a smile, “It’s a bit of a long story. Which I think I’ll just show you to save some time.”

Her brows rose in surprise, “Now you’ve got my interest piqued. What do you need me to do?”

You’re high up in the mountains once the smell of the Ered dissipates. The sun is bright and warm against your skin as your tail transforms into legs. You squint, hand coming up to shield your ace as an astonished voice rings out behind you.

“By the heavens. Mark, she actually appeared.” You rise, on alert even in front of a familiar face. You’re hesitant, keeping a bit of distance.

“It’s alright princess. We won’t hurt you. May I present, the Queen Dowager Freya.”

The elderly woman next to him bows, “Welcome to the Thelorian Mountains Your Majesty.”

You bow as well. “Queen Dowager. I’m aware of your efforts towards peace with our kind. It is truly appreciated.”

She smiles, “You look like your grandfather.” Shocked, your heart skips. “Y-you knew him?” “Mmmhmm. He was a brave siren. And loved you deeply. His death was...hard.” “Yes, I dear say it was.”

You shake away painful memories and address the Prince. “You summoned me again which means you’re either going to kill me or...”

“The Dimelor fields, how did you know,” he asks, halting you mid-sentence.  “Magic. Always magic. You saw it then, your crops dying.”

He nods gravelly, “Yes. Barren fields where there was once lush green. It was unfathomable to comprehend.”

“You understand then, the severity of the situation.” “I’m beginning to understand everything. Which brings me to my next point: why did you tell me a Siren’s Agreement was marriage?”

You smile knowingly, “Why dear Prince, I never said anything of the sort. You assumed it was a marriage. Has it become appealing to you, marrying me?”

His cheeks color and his grandmother can’t help but let out a breathy chuckle. “Don’t be ridiculous princess, I made an assumption, that’s all. Like your mother said, being ‘shackled’ to me would be hell.”

“You’ve met the Sea Queen.” “Unfortunately,” he mumbled. turning to her.

She addressed you, “Is she still surly and stubborn?” “When was she not?”

The Queen Dowager laughs. “Minthe always believed the sirens were better off on their own. Her hatred of humans runs as deep as their hatred of her.”

“She has a valid reason.” “Yes, sadly she does.”

Your walls fall a bit, there’s something about the former Queen you feel you can trust. She senses it as well and smiles warmly. “My grandson called you here to accept your proposal.”

That takes you aback and your head swivels towards him, “The union? You’re agreeing?”

He reaches and scratches the back of his head sheepishly, “There’s things to discuss but...yes. For the good of our people.”

“I thought what you cared about most was captaining the Milo.” “My ship isn’t more important than my people, no matter how much I love the sea.”

“You said there were things to discuss.” He straightens in a very prince like manner. “Yes. If we are joined, even if it isn’t a marriage, I will treat it as such. And what’s mine will be yours. You will be safe on land for the year you are there. I know not of the ways things once were. But I accept your guidance in the things I must learn, if you accept mine.”

You blink once. And then a few times more. “That’s very mature of you, Your Grace.”

“I can be...when the occasion calls for it. Do you agree? Or have anything to add?”

“Not really. I’m just waiting for the part where you tell me how we’re going to tell our families. I assume they’ll be present for the joining.”

He doesn’t reply, exchanging a simple look with his grandmother that speaks a thousand words. You know what it means, you share similar looks with your siblings when your mother isn’t paying attention.

“We have no plans of telling our families. Your grandmother will be our only witness and my first appearance in front of the royal family of Khotia will be on legs.”

“I have a beautiful Khotian gown you can wear,” the Queen Dowager adds. “This is rash. Insane. Crazy. Unprecedented.” 

Mark laughs. “More rash, insane, crazy and unprecedented than showing yourself to a ship full of pyrates?”

Ugh, he does have a point.

You purse your lips but say nothing, instead turning to a more authoritative figure. But as if she read your mind, Freya simply throws her hands up. “I have no objection. I’d be happy to be your witness. And I will personally be there to hold your hand as you present yourself to Khotia.”  

“And might I remind you,” the Prince butts in, “you were just fine with the idea of hastily done ritual in the back room of Zemër, with Kiraz as the witness.”

“That was before you actually accepted. I didn’t think the great Prince of Khotia would join in a union without his family’s knowledge or presence.”

His grin is smug, “I am unexpected princess.” “Which means I should expect more of the unexpected.” "Exactly. So?”

You weighed your options. Just like your idea to board the Milo, this was a bad idea. There were too many obstacles and yes all this started because of you. You, who wants to save the sea and land, even with everything stacked against you. Now, you had a prince willing.

Now, something can be done. And both worlds don’t have to burn.

You meet the prince’s eyes, the question lingering there in his irises.

“So...a union then?”

It wasn’t a grand affair. Not that either of you thought it’d be.

The ritual was simple, albeit with a bit more blood than you remembered it needing. The Queen Dowager had tears in her eyes as she blessed the union, hugging you both at the end.

There was no kiss, no stares of affection, simply a handshake between you both. There was an understanding in Mark, a new look that washed over his face when his blood mixed with the magic. He was made of it now, his soul linked to the sea in a deeper way than being a captain.

He had wondered aloud, without even realizing it, “Does it always feel like this?” “Always,” you had replied, your own magic thrumming warm within your cold siren veins.

Freya offered a meal, the first on you had on land, and discussed what happened next.

“The transformation is quick, 24 hours until I trade my tail for legs.” “What of your family,” Mark asked in between bites of his food.

“I’ll say my goodbyes. They can’t know about the union before I step on land. My mother is strong. She can undo the union with her own magic and it will painful.”

“...painful?”

His grandmother chimes in, “You are joined now my boy. Blood mixed with blood remember? Undoing that will be like ripping apart your very soul.”

He swallowed, “Sounds like something we’d like to avoid then.” You had laughed, surprising everyone, before you quickly recovered and told them you’d be back the next morning.

Your  goodbyes were quick, but not as hasty, as to avoid suspicion. You didn’t know whether or not to be upset about the fact your siblings couldn’t feel the urgency in your hugs, as if you’d be back that night. Your mother wasn’t around, attending to matters of the sea. A part of you wanted to wait but you could feel that thrum of magic, scales prickling like human skin.

You were back on land before the 24 hours were up, holding tight to a bundle to clothes and towels as Freya led you to a room in her massive home.

“It will be an adjustment but I am here if you need anything. Do not hesitate to call for me.”

“Mother believed in handling things on your own.” Her smile was gentle, “There is nothing wrong with asking for help, Your Grace. We are family.”

Family.

“Thank you Queen Dowager, I will do my best to remember that.” “Oh my dear girl, I told you. Family. Queen Dowager is too formal. Năinai will do just fine.”

Your heart started to beat strongly for a moment. “...năinai?” “Grandmother. Now get some sleep my darling. Tomorrow, you shall be introduced to the world.”

Tomorrow. Tomorrow everything shall change.

“You’re nervous.” “Sweaty palms is a symptom of being nervous?”

Mark chuckles, adjusting the collar of his very prince like gold studded military jacket. “Yes. Sweaty anything is a symptom.”

“Then yes, I’m nervous. And I don’t enjoy sweating either. Human reactions are odd and frankly, disgusting.”

He’s grinning at you as your fingers fumble and you feel the crushing weight of the gown Freya loaned you. He’s surprised that you’re nervous, if he’s being honest. He’s only ever seen you stoic and strong, rarely letting any other emotions overtake you, a side effect no doubt of being raised by the Sea Queen.

The young woman sitting next to him was different, as if time on land was slowly transforming her.

Or she’s becoming more comfortable?

He decides to do something a little rash, taking your clammy hands in his. You’re alone in the back of the carriage carrying you to the palace, unmarked as to keep attention away, so he doesn’t worry too much about the gesture. You freeze for a moment but allow the comfort, taking a deep breath as your eyes follow the scenery outside the window. The ride seems an eternity and the silence between you both is adding to the nerves already threatening to overtake your whole self.

“Tell me about your family. What should I expect?”

He started running his thumb against yours absentmindedly, like his own mind was suddenly a million miles away. “They’re regal and serious when the occasion calls for it. My father is charismatic, kind. Mother is stern, protective. She will be the hardest to win over. My younger brother is adventurous. Full of mischief. My two older sisters are funny. Gentle. But cautious. A curse of being the eldest and female. I love them dearly.”

“The deck of the Milo would tell a different story.”

He smiles a bit, “I love them dearly. It’s the crushing responsibility that takes me away to the sea. I’m the oldest male.”

“And now shackled to a siren.” He’s still smiling. “Ah, yes. And you’re shackled to the land.” “Only for a year. Remember, the magic must remain strong.”

“Do I get to throw you back in the ocean like a goldfish? We should make a ceremony out of it, invite the whole kingdom out to the docks.”

You narrow your eyes, lifting your joined hands and bringing them back down against his thigh roughly, hitting him with the underside of his own hand.

“You throw me like a goldfish, I’ll drown the Milo.”

His scandalized look causes an eruption of chaotic giggles within the carriage before it rolls to a stop and there’s a knock at the door. The nerves hit you at full force and your mouth shuts, killing all noise.

“We’ve arrived, Your Majesty,” a voice rings out. “Oh by the heavens,” you whisper.

His hand is still in yours, giving it one more squeeze. “You’re going to be fine, don’t fall apart on me now. You’re royalty too. Breathe and let’s do this.”

There was a surge of confidence running through you as Mark rapped on the door, swinging open a moment later.

To your surprise, Freya appeared at your side. You knew she’d keep her promise to come but the relief at seeing her came at a bit of a shock.

“Are you ready, my dear?” Her smile was comforting, her finger entwined with yours calming your racing heart.

“No,” Mark suddenly said, adjusting his sleeves with a smirk. “She’s sweaty.”

You shove him before Freya pulls you both along to the side entrance of the palace. Servants start to stare and the walls echo with their whispers. The Queen Dowager leads the trio, your arm around Mark’s. Every step brings you closer in and you want to appreciate the four walls of the towering Khotian palace but suddenly, someone calls Mark’s name and you are faced with the entirety of the royal family.

You’ve been by your mother’s side atop a dais as she commanded her subjects. She was intimidating so you can clearly remember the looks your people would wear as they approached her.

You’re sure you’re making that same face at this moment.

The members of Mark’s family all wear identical looks of both curiosity and mild amusement. Except for his mother. The Queen of Khotia’s gaze alone could cause water to boil. Your grip tightens, wrinkling the fabric of Mark’s jacket. His fingers clasping over yours is an odd relief, balanced you as you made your approach.

“Mother?” The King’s voice was laced with confusion and what you’d later recognize as fear. Fear of his mother or wife, you’d never know.

“Hello, my darling. It’s been some time since I’ve graced these halls. Elinia, as radiant as ever.”

The Queen’s smile did not reach her eyes.

“Mark, this is unexpected. Who is...who is this lovely young woman?” Your breath catches. She wasted no time zeroing in on you. Mark seems completely calm next to you, ginning as if everything isn’t about to change.

“Unexpected indeed by joyous nonetheless! Mother, father and my dearest siblings...may I present Y/N...”

You brace yourself.

“...princess of the Ered. Daughter of the Sea Queen.”

The throne room seems to grow cold as ice as his words are processed by those in front of you. His grandmother seems amused but you’re waiting for the explosion.

“What in the heavens did you just say?”

Ah, there it is.

A/N: oof this one was a monster. It would’ve been longer but I figured, I don’t know, maybe ending it here would be a bit of fun. I have the very last line of this thing written on a sticky note in the notebook I wrote all of this down in. I wanted to go all the way but I realized I had other parts of this collab to write. So now I can leave it up to your imagination. And once this gets posted, I’ll post that last line and it can add to your thoughts of how it would’ve played out. She’s lengthy but I hope you enjoyed. Onto the next one. xx

[jimijoong]

Heaven Sent (pjm)

pairing— ghost!jimin x reader

word count— 1.1k (a shortie)

genre— supernatural (not the spooky kind), romance, & angst 

warnings— sadness, past death mention, light emotional trauma, catharsis

summary— being haunted seemed pretty farfetched, who in their right mind would believe in ghosts anyways? 

 Had you told the you of a few months past, “You’re being haunted”... You would have laughed. That was just fairy tales and parents spooking children into eating their broccoli.

But slowly, the evidence was starting to stack up. Novels moving from your bookcase to your bed, opened on a seemingly random page. A glass tipped on its side, making a little puddle below. Little creaks and groans in the night. Your doors opening on their own all of sudden,creaking horribly. Your utensils disappearing for a week and suddenly appearing again in the most random of places. If only you had a roommate to blame these happenings on.

A google search told you ghosts usually haunted the place they died; alternatively they liked graveyards a lot. They could appear as full bodied apparitions or look a little more transparent and proper ghostly. A lot of them were vaguely Victorian, it seemed. They could communicate through tv or some device, the “spirit box”. But how a ghost from 18-whatever could be savvy with technology didn’t make sense to you.  But there was no shortage of conspiratorial articles and footage. Yeah, the internet probably wasn’t your best bet for a reliable source. If one such source even existed. The local library didn’t come up with anything more credible. Most of what you found were children’s ghost story collections. The Goosebumps and Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark.

Had you told the you of a few months past, “You’re friends with a ghost”... You would have laughed. That was a joke- not even a good one.

But Jimin didn’t take long to make his presence wholly known to you. He would walk through your walls, and say hi with a surprisingly sweet smile for a dead person. He could pop in and out of existence at will. One moment you were browsing your phone the next you had a man looking over your shoulder with big curious eyes. You wouldn’t admit to anyone you screamed the first few times.

But his appearances were soon normalized, and he was just a part of your life. He was there, constant. Now he stuck around you longer, which you could call a proper visit. With more time, you got a good look at him. At first he was hard to make out in a wispy spectral form. You could grasp an eye or a nose for a singular, solitary second but it was quickly washed away in fluid spirals of whites and grays— like paint spreading through water. But every time he appeared it was a little clearer than the last. As if ever time he came forth into the living plane a piece of the puzzle was put into place.

He had dark blue hair reminiscent of a stormy sea. In his lifetime he would have had the most striking coal eyes, which were now paler and devoid of their sparkle. His skin held a gray pallor but looked smooth like marble. He wore a loose and bouncy linen blouse with a delivish “V” neckline. Tall black lace ups and dirty brown trousers. A utility belt was cinching his small waist, showing off his fit figure. He walked with grace and held himself like royalty. It was immediately noticeable in an age of slouches.

“Y/n.” Jimin came to you like usual, on any day.

“Hey Casper.”

He scowled playfully at you. “I had a favor to ask you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I want to- gosh, there’s no good way to put this- but I want to try touching you.”

Your eyes tore away from the tv and you gaped at him. “Are you being serious? What makes you think it’ll work now?” He didn’t reply and you sighed softly. “C’mere then.”

Holding out your hand for him, you let him come over. His brows scrunched together in concentration as he knelt in front of you, slowly bringing his hand closer to yours. He grasped his fingers around your palm and held you tightly. In that moment, it was as if sparks flew through your system, and you were suddenly overwrought with emotions. Worried. Frenzied. Terrified. Strained. Your chest started to hurt and your throat got choked up. You hadn’t noticed you’d started crying until Jimin asked you what was wrong.

“I don’t know I.. I think when you held my hand,” you took a pause to sniffle and wipe your eyes, “I could feel what you felt, in.. in your last moments.”

Jimin looked down thoughtfully, solemnly.

“I’m sorryJimin, I’m sure it’s not easy for you to accept-”

“No, in a way. It’s comforting. Knowing someone understands.” He said quietly, looking back up at you with his eyes in half moons.

“Guess that makes sense. In a totally sad way.” You forced a smile.

Jimin chuckled sadly, nodding his head and standing back up. “I’m glad it’s you, too.”

“What?”

“I mean… You’ve been so kind to me. Despite me scaring you on accident too many times. But- since my death I’ve been lost. It took me a while to understand what I was. Why am I still here? I kept asking that to myself. What haven’t I found the will let me pass on?”

You frowned, looking up at him to continue.

“I think… I was just missing closure. I was happy in my life, I had everything I wanted. But the accident- it suddenly halted everything and I don’t think my heart understood that. I still felt alive. And my time being your Casper, it has me feeling okay. It’s okay, I’ve had my run and I’m ready to give it up.”

“Jimin, don’t say that.” You bit out, standing up to face him. You wanted to be upset he was saying these things, but there were too many conflicting emotions, none of them could hold the top spot. You didn’t want to see your friend go away. But it was selfish to make him stay when he, more than anyone, deserved to go.

“It’s okay. I’m not afraid of death. They always say you’re going to a better place right?” Jimin held your chin between his cold fingers. It felt so real,watering your eyes more. Your heart was straining to hold in your feelings so bad, it hurt.

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his plush ones, closing your eyes. Feeling the years catch on your eyelashes, feeling him move with you into it. It was a magical moment. One so sporadic, one so passionate and melancholic.

His presence slipped away from you, and the room felt ironically warmer. When everything in you said it should feel colder.

Had you told the you of a few months past, “You’d fall in love with a ghost”... You would have laughed.

He was just a memory. One you would treasure dearly, but just that— a memory, as the world moves on.

𝓕𝓲𝓷

a/n— this is something i originally wrote last year but was never content with it until now. From the start I wanted to express a catharsis from death and I hope that came across :”) my cheesy title is meant to represent both jimin coming to the reader and creating a “heaven” for her as well as jimin being sent to his heaven in the end. Is that too sad? haha who knows 

Feedback and Reactions go a long way!

[blooddrop-palace]

Project Updates - What to Look Forward To

<3 Hello all! I've realized (humbly) that I have a small following of very nice people that seem quite interested in what I've written so far, and after seeing some mutuals post update-status posts, I thought I should share what's going on with my projects, also. (Thanks for the encouragement, @queenmuzz!)

Updated Dec-10-20

Sons of Fortune

Probably somehow my main focus now, though I am steadily working on other works. Currently working on the “In Between” special short before I start on Chapter 12.

I would also like to talk a little bit about my plans for this story: if anyone has paid attention to this story's tags, yes, I am touching up on the plots of most of the games. In fact, all of them, and the anime. (I already dealt with DMC4. No, I will not tear apart Fortuna lol.) Not all relevant tags are in, yet, because small spoilers. It looks like it's going to be a long while before I even get to the Temen-ni-gru, though. (There is a reason why that event is getting pushed back.) I want to have fun with the family fluff that is the twins each learning how to parent, first. 

Hell Froze Over, and We Shall Reignite It

The drama of it all! Dante and Vergil are finally back from Hell, and Nero doesn’t even know his mother is now standing right in front of him. Meanwhile, even I’m anticipating seen how Snow and Dante is going to handle the obvious things currently unsaid... and I have a feeling a small measure of stupidity is still going to be involved.

Current chapter progress: Outline complete.

It's going to feel so interesting, shifting from "Fortune" back to Reignite. I get to write Sera and Vergil falling in love all over again, with a different set of circumstances. Whoa.

And, and... Nero meeting Sera... odd that I'm saying this as the writer, but I have a "I hope he likes his mom" feeling going on. 

Also, no doubt Dante's brain is going to 404 when he sees Snow. 

Nico prepares popcorn.

This is Not an Office Rom-Com

I have... about 8 new skits planned out. Nothing more written just yet.

That’s all I’m saying about this for now. =P

Hierarchy of Kings

Purely indulgent M/M romance of Vergil and an OC, existing all thanks to

@wordborne

Working on chapter 2. 

I know I said 3 chapters only. I might have lied depending on how much I want to write. It's supposed to be just... awkward fluff of a listless part-devil who somewhat-recently lost his mate, got in a bit of a tiff with his brother, and now his children are trying to set him up with the prospective-king-of-hell, Vergil. 

I think about this one a lot but I haven't written anything new for it yet, only because "Fortune" is taking over my life right now, haha.

Through the Lens of the Beholder

Okay, so...This story has no real plot. As a result, my drive for it is purely down to "if I think of a badass or cool photograph to describe." There is a TINY bit of plot. Only a little. And I don't know when I'll update. But this is why I'm trying not to START new projects. Four  is a lot already! But because this one is supposed to be simpler than the other two, I will most likely finish this one before the others, so I can open a new project. 

---------------

Speaking of new projects... Here are things ideas bouncing through my head:

- I still have a prompt from @maybeishouldwait sitting in my inbox. I WILL have it done one day, when I find the perfect way to write it. 

A whole, entirely royally late set of Dadgil week fics.  Yep. I want to write them. They just won’t be on time. 

Written in Ink

A plot-less post-DMC5 story. 

I say plot-less. There is a plot. The plot is:

Dante: Damn it, Verge, are you trying to turn my office into a zoo??

In which Vergil compulsively starts contracting strong demons he's defeated, left and right, because he's discovered "the joy of pets." The demons all take on a dark animistic form and things get wild. 

A Persona and DMC fusion/AU

I have no title for this yet, and I absolutely cannot start this one until I have finished one of my other big projects. This one will take a lot of big planning, because I am making a new plot, using the mechanics of Persona, with DMC characters and setup.

What I want to write, is a teenage Nero as the protagonist, trying to solve a mystery... probably starting with the sudden disappearance of his mother. (Most likely Sera.) And he meets a lot of "new" people, and even finds new family... and yes, he will find his dad. (I'm thinking he'll know about Vergil, though. At least in name and a photo? Isn't that an interesting difference?)

For those of you not familiar with Persona, the major theme I really want to play with is that of the protagonist growing as a person (and in power) by befriending different people that helps them grow as a person. Each party member and important NPC is represented by a Tarot Card, signifying the type of journey the protagonist (The Fool) "embarks" with that character. There is growth in both the protagonist and that characters. 

Again, this is ambitious to try and pull off... but it's in the back of my head. I'll focus on it once I've cleared some other stuff. 

Sugar Sweet

A somewhat short-chapter series reader fic... of a surgeon/doctor!reader (barely 30 and good at what you do) who often saves the lives of shady people (e.g. mafia) because you care about saving lives, not the politics. But you do make good money out of it. (Hey, you gotta be at least a bit morally ambiguous if you're going to deal with devils.)

You meet one mess of a young mercenary named Dante, who is totally not human and deals with things like having bullets healed into his back, and he can't reach them to cut them out. 

Dante doesn't care about bills for his office, or a lot of the debts in his life. You don't know where his money is going, or if he even makes much money at all (for the kind of specialty work he does? Money's going somewhere, but that's none of your business.)

You won't pay Dante's bills, or his debts, but he will accept pizza and ice cream. And new parts for his jukebox. And maybe a motorcycle. Or a new coat. Or a new car...

And you might complain to him about your dumb patients. Or just listen to him talk about his job. Or you two watch a movie together.

And this just continues. For years. 

Tokusatsu DMC fusion/AU

So. First thing's first: I'm a big fan of Sentai/Tokusatsu. What is that, you might ask? It's a Japanese genre, and if you're familiar with Power Rangers, that's derived from Sentai. 

Basically: Masked heroes with transformation gadgets, sometimes with motorcycles, fighting against evil. ("Magical girls" but strictly the opposite, a lot more physical combat involved, may involve upgrade gadgets, and not strictly limited to male heroes though mostly a male cast. Also not strictly for male-only audience. Girls like the eye-candy, too. :eyes-emoji:)

Why am I thinking about this?

Because I have found out that: Vergil's VA, Dan Southworth, was the Quantum Ranger (WHICH WAS RED). Nero's VA, Johnny Yong Bosch, was a Black Ranger and a Green Ranger. 

...And Dante's VA, Reuben Langdon, had a role in a Japanese Toku show as "B-Fighter Yanma" forever ago???? (HE WAS BLUE!!)

What am I going to do with this info? I'll let you know later. But my Sentai/Toku-loving little heart is about to burst with hyperfixation overlap. 

If I ever write this out, expect it to be just as cheesy as an actual Kamen Rider show. Or, at the very least, expect some art. I love Kamen Rider stuff!

Family Fantasy MMO

Snow introduces Dante, Vergil, Nero, and Kyrie to Final Fantasy 14 (because that’s the MMO I play) for family bonding. Yep. Mainly for silly indulgence.

Stardew Valley Visit

Post DMC5, Vergil and Dante accidentally end up going on a vacation when they try to leave Hell. No pairing with the farmer, but instead just a relaxing and somewhat introspective moment of the boys being stuck with most of their power temporarily sealed, learning how to take care of a farm, and maybe do a bit of healing by interacting with the townsfolk while they try to find out where their swords went and how to get home. 

Re-Colourize

Otherwise what I would call the “re-colour of Nero and Snow” AU. 

What if Vergil was found by Kassy’s family and raised among them? What if Dante ended up briefly in Fortuna and then convinced Sera to run away from the island?

What if we have a Nero who, though brash, is outwardly more soft and open-hearted, and has red-orange and gold colours instead? What if we have a Snow who is named Chiyuki, who wields her katana more like Vergil does, and has a more ice-queen aura about her, and has a teal and blue colouring about her?

This is my excuse to switch up the pairings, but also write Vergil being taught to fight more like an assassin. 

Raised by the Blade

Imagine: Yamato, cracked, broken, and separated from her Master... desperately searching for a way to get back to him, and ended up washed up on the shores of Fortuna. Humanoid, but clearly not if anyone saw the cracked, broken, and no-normal look of “shattered” in her torso, that she would have to keep covered. 

Made from the power of Sparda, she is pale with white hair... and she finds herself drawn to the orphanage...

Where she finds the toddler that is Nero.

Devil Hunters’ Podcast

Nico “accidentally” finds entertainment in recording the Sparda Family arguments as they talk about hunting; after all, they all share one braincell. 

Ascended Monochrome

A white angel remains by the side of Nelo Angelo. Mundus was not pleased by the behavior of his second creation, from the human woman that he had picked up with the treacherous Son of Sparda. But he later discovered that by using her, he could keep Nelo Angelo complacent. Eventually, underestimating love will be his downfall.

Fall to Royalty

A story of where Vergil wins against Mundus the first time, and takes the throne of Hell. But what is he to do next? Eventually, ruling Hell seemed meaningless when there was no one by his side, so he goes to seek out the Lady Knight that he had vowed to never think of or go back to unless he had obtained the power he sought.

Doppelganger Woes

So, I heard Capcom retconned Gilver to be some sort of imitation created by Mundus. I’m all for this! And I’m going to DO something with this.

Side-Project: DMC Tarot List

I started on this maybe months ago; and I have a tentative list oh what characters go with what card and a few detailed descriptions. I think I should confer with

@harlot-of-oblivion

at some point about this, and anyone else interested in, well, Tarot stuff. 

[feed-my-reads]

Jack Holloway Author interview

A little introduction:

Hello, I'm Jack Holloway (or rather I'm not, this is a pen name!) and I write dystopian novels and shorts set in a 'just before the end' leading into a 'universal apocalypse' setting called 'Ice Age in Scarlet.'

When did your love of books begin?

This is a 'when I was young' sort of question answer. Although I've always loved books and had the benefit of an upbringing with a lot of books around (mainly 60s and 70s paperbacks in a mix of genres set in stand-up bookcases around the house) my real love of books began due to an attic where I'd lurk on visits to my grandparents being a pretty asocial sort of person. My grandfather had worked for WH Smiths in the 50s and 60s and acquired lots of remaindered and unsellable books and I read through those at quite a clip, whilst eating a ploughman's lunches prepared by my grandmother, I absolutely refused to eat anything else at the time!

When did you start to have the wish to become an author?

I think there's always been an urge to get the things bouncing around in my head out there. I had an initial burst of enthusiasm whilst during the summer holidays between two years in my degree course. I'd work at whatever temporary job I could find (£3.50 per hour from memory, and moving between catering, cold stores and a chemical factory producing scented products) and come home to conduct a word dump. End result was a 120k nightmare of SFF gibberish that I printed out to edit and lost chunks of, over time. That sort of put me off for a decade or two. But here I am, once again.

Though the books tend to be shorter.

How have you found the process for becoming an author?

I have no difficulty getting words down on a page, and as I've helped put out books for other people dealing with D2D and Amazon is something I have some experience with.

My two 'process' issues tend to be getting over a mental brick wall over editing and accepting criticism. I am never going to go mainstream publishing (if they'd want me) as the idea of having someone telling me how my books should be altered makes me spit nails. Editing is a pure mental block. I don't want to re-read my work and when I do manage I'll tend to obsessively edit the same part over and over unless I manage to get a clear day or two and run through the lot in one sitting.

What would you say to those wanting to become an author?

Do it. Get those words down on paper and get some people to read through them. If you want to make money you'll need to write to market, and you'll also need to consider how you're going to get your book out there. For me, this is fun. Making a living off writing requires a heap of luck. There's a chapter in 'Black Swan' - by Nicolas Taleb that's on point. Publishing is one of the key 'Black Swan' industries. There's thousands of books out there, and any one of them (given a market, writing, a good cover and editing) could be the next Harry Potter or whatever. It's highly unlikely but... it could be you! And if it isn't you've still written a book (that's amazing as of itself) and the royalties could cover a bill or two every month. That's not to be sneezed at.

Tell us about your book/books:

Two basic series, both in the Ice Age in Scarlet setting.

The first are prequels to the main series where you get to see the world slowly going to hell, and in the background to each, a dark force pushing it that way (if you look hard enough). The prequels set up the main factions that exist in-universe - magic infused reality, but with a much stronger and more organised set of human powers than you'd usually find in this genre, whilst introducing characters who turn up or are referenced in the main series. Mr. Brooker is a particular favourite of mine, a relatively junior member of the UK's Arcane Investigation's Agency in the first book who gradually acquires more and more power in pursuit of a borderline admirable goal and who in the main series discovers that the end point of his path is not what he wanted at all.

The main series follows the Catastrophe set up in the prequels. The sun is blotted out by massive volcanic eruptions, and then

something

happens which makes things much worse and puts mile long monsters in the air. The various factions put their plans into action and generally come to grief, and the survivors then must find the beauty and hope in what could otherwise be a depressing setting. The first book is near the end chronologically,  Master in his Tomb is the story of a Vampire master locked away well before the Catastrophe waking into its aftermath and bringing his slightly warped curiosity to the table about what's happened since he was imprisoned by his own people for being... well. Albie is Albie.

What do you love about the writing/reading community?

What's not to like? There can be some cliquish stuff going on in particular corners of the community but that's generally defensive - if people talk down about your genre you'll often get pretty defensive if it's challenged. It's understandable. The positive side of this is the support that's available through the community to keep you writing. Get the right people around you and you're going to be able to watch their publishing and reading journeys play out. And best of all you're going to be introduced to a heap of great new books you'd never have seen as they're getting buried under the avalanche of tosh that makes up most people's amazon suggested reading list.

However, there is always room for more community among both writers and readers and more importantly, between the two groups!

If you could say anything to your readers what would it be?

Thanks for giving my books a try and remember that most of the characters therein are utterly unreliable, so take everything they say or believe with a generous pinch of salt!

[davidmann95]

I read your post about why Batman is great and I love how thoughtful that is. Can you do one for Superman? Thanks ^_^

Unsurprisingly, I’ve touched on a lot of the basic aspects of it before, so for a couple parts of this I’ll keep it restrained (speaking entirely relatively), but given I think about Superman more than most people think about their best friends, I feel qualified to state that yes: Superman is great. As I said with Batman, the reasons why on a mass cultural basis are much broader than ‘he’s a really well-written character’ - hell, too often that isn’t even the case, even if plenty *have* stepped up over the years - so I’ll start with the lizard hindbrain stuff and work my way down to the finer details.

Superman has iconic power by default

What it really comes down to, at least in terms of keeping him afloat in the public eye when actual public opinion on him has been shot completely to hell over the last couple decades, is that Superman is a Big Deal. He’s the founder of his own genre: literally every surface-level aspect of his mythology is shorthand for the concept he created as well as for plenty beyond superheroes, from the suit (trunks included) to Lois Lane to Lex Luthor to Clark Kent to flying to Kryptonite to Bizarro and Brainiac to super-pets and x-ray vision. A red cape fluttering in the breeze is itself an evocative image entirely sans context, because people know that means him, by which it really means all superheroes. That means he takes the hits of getting all the complaints other characters duck even as others write thinkpieces on his place in culture and how he represents everything from America to Jesus to conservative values to the immigrant experience, all from people who may well have never picked up a comic or watched a cartoon of his in their lives. Even when most people don’t know much about him as a character, he as a symbolic figure is too massive to not grapple with one way or another, even via shorthand such as ‘he’s dumb’ or ‘he stands for us at our best’; while many of his recent woes can be traced back to people telling stories solely about or defined by that iconography, it still has power. Kids on the other side of the world from wherever you’re sitting right now know he can leap a tall building in a single bound. There’s maybe two or three other fictional characters in the world with that level of exposure and impact, and the unconscious emotional connection that comes baked right into it.

Superman is a protector

When kids talk about loving him because he can do anything, and adults talk about how he brings back those memories of joy and comfort, I think this is what it really comes down to a lot of the time. Superman’s the one who looks out for us, the guy who cares about you. Yeah, there’s gotta be the odd story about how NOT EVEN SUPERMAN CAN SAVE EVERYONE! to keep him honest, but by and large, yes he can. He wears a fun flashy uniform and he can wrap you up in his cape and fly you away from whatever bad’s happening, and even if something can catch up, no bullet or bomb in the world is going to get through him to you, or even hurt him enough to at least be scary. Nothing’s so hard or so big or so scary he can’t help, not really; he naps on clouds and swims in the sun. He’s polite, and never aggressive towards the innocent (not even that often towards the guilty), and he doesn’t talk down to people even though he’s stronger and knows better. He’s as confident as a cool big brother, as supportive and sturdy as a good dad, as vaguely ethereal and perfectly impossible as Santa Claus. It’s not an act, it’s not impersonal - he wants you to be okay, he cares about you and he’ll do whatever he can to make sure you’ll be alright. When that’s done just right? That kind of unreserved, unconditional, powerful demonstration of kindness making a difference, even from a cartoon alien, can knock a lot of typically steely emotional walls down like balsa wood, especially when that can save the day just as much as quick wits or a fist, the way anyone here could too in the right circumstances when they try their best.

Superman is a romantic figure

Something overlooked or deliberately sidelined by many is that a huge, huge part of Superman’s appeal in lots of circles is that he can be a romantic ideal rather than (or as well as) a protective one. He’s a sweet, funny, confident, smart guy who’s built like Adonis and doesn’t think he’s better than everybody else even though he’s literally the best. He holds down a socially valuable job he’s successful and happy at, he’s gentle and considerate, and he’s entirely comfortable being second in his household to a commanding career woman who he’s instinctively protective of, but also willing to back off of when she feels smothered because he acknowledges her independence. He can fly her to the moon, he never lets her forget how happy he is that when he was left lost and alone on the other side of the universe he fell to the one place he could find her, and he wears tights. The comics may forget that, but Lois & Clark knew it. Smallville sure as hell knew it. So have the last couple movies, and Supergirl. Even Christopher Reeve, America’s Dad, got it on with Margot Kidder in that weird shiny Fortress hammock. You wanna talk about the aspects of Superman that go for…ahem…primal instincts, that he’s the member of the Justice League historically most likely to go shirtless* is worth bringing up. 

* Aside from maybe Batman, who’s usually beat to hell and too miserable to leverage any of that playboy charm, and Aquaman, who’s Aquaman.

Superman is an easy power fantasy

Obviously, superheroes are often power fantasies in general; they do stuff we can’t do but wish we could. And Superman’s near the top of that list not just because he’s iconic, and not even because of the scope of his power - Green Lantern and Thor are comparable in terms of raw ability, GL even has an honest-to-goodness wishing ring, but they don’t measure up in that regard. What is is, I think, is that Superman’s powers are rooted in physicality, and therefore easy to imagine yourself doing. Everything most people can do, he does best, from lifting to running to looking to hearing to punching. Even his non-physical powers have a connection to actual physical acts: to see through objects he focuses as if peering through a fog, he doesn’t shoot power blasts from his fists to light things on fire but instead burns them with a furious glare, he doesn’t dispassionately levitate through the air as a standard but takes off and holds his arms forward as if in a mighty never-ending leap. Batman may be ‘real’, but if you imagined suddenly being him, you wouldn’t be Batman, you’d be a rich dude with a weaponized theme park in his basement, because you have no training and no tangible point of reference for thinking of how anything works beyond “punch and throw things”. But it’s easy to imagine being Superman in a visceral, physical sense - just imagine everything you did worked optimally, even the way it only could in a dream.

Superman is fun

All of the above makes him grand and likable, but that’s not the same as being able to support decades of monthly adventure stories. The basis of that is that he lives in a universe-sized, Earth-shaped toybox. He doesn’t just have superpowers and a nifty suit, he’s got a cave at the North Pole right near Santa with a time machine, statues of all his friends, a space zoo, a gun that turns people into ghosts, and a bottle city full of real people, plus robots to keep it all tidy, and only he can get in because the key was forged in the heart of a star. His cousin, kid, dog, and a few of his best friends wear capes too, and his ‘brother’ with reverse-superpowers lives on a cube planet where it’s perpetually opposite day. His friends and wife often go on their own adventures and get temporary superpowers just by being in his vicinity, he dated a mermaid in college, his after-school club was in the future and he commutes to the moon for work, and his deadliest enemies include a crazed mad scientist, an evil robot with a death-heart, a mischievous imp in a derby hat, and brilliant alien computer literally named Brainiac. Superman lives in a sci-fi fantasy dreamland of childish archetypes that can exist on any scale from the microscopic to the galactic to the other-dimensional, and as a result of that he can go on any adventure imaginable, to any time and place, and as a super-man who doesn’t often have to worry for his own safety, he can survive and appreciate and care for it all.

Superman mythologizes the mundane

And it’s where the fun and the big, mythic aura Superman carries meet that the magic happens that makes him as versatile and effective a character as there is in fiction: everything he does is rooted in something incredibly normal and human. His wild super-suit of circus royalty is made to reconnect with his heritage the only way he has, and to try and make himself colorful and unthreatening to a world he needs to accept him. When he travels through time, it’s never just to save reality, it’s to go see family and friends. He walks his dog around the rings of Saturn, he looks at his city in a bottle and wonders if he’ll ever be able to get around to taking care of that, he walks on the bottom of the ocean to think things through privately, and spends an entire day saving the world to get away from a conversation he doesn’t want to have. Every mad, cosmic aspect of his world is something totally normal blown up to be as big as it feels, and even when he does interact with the truly ‘mundane’, his presence alone elevates it to myth in a way no other superhero can. That’s the true source of his ability to adapt, rarely tapped but always potent: he can do anything, because he’s us.

Superman’s an actual good, interesting character

I place this at the bottom because it’s the aspect that’s most rarely captured, especially in the public eye (though the handful of times it has been are why he’s my favorite). But when he’s handled properly, then even divorced from everything else, Superman is fascinating as a *person*. Raised knowing there’s something different about him even as his weird alienness lets him understand people and the world around them in ways no others can, he learned one day he was born of the most mind-shattering act of cosmic horror imaginable, with a place greater than Earth in every way destroyed by coincidence, a signpost by any measure that the universe is a chaotic, meaningless, cruel place that destroys the innocent with indifference…and he became a good man who treasures life over anything. He has power that lets him do literally anything he pleases, and he spends half his life among us at a desk job because he thinks we’re just swell and he wants to keep being part of it all. Even though he can never entirely, not really, divvying his life up into discrete, manageable chunks that let him interact with the world on his own terms and try to see through what he sees as his responsibility, until a woman sees through the deception and self-deception and gets the real him to tentatively come out. 

He has fun little hobbies, and unusual friendships, and a complex rivalry with the one man in the world who could’ve been his equal. He’s seen the best and worst of the world, and he accepts it all, but he still radiates a decency and innocence that can be mistaken for naivete by those who don’t know him. He’s clever but easy to catch off-guard in the right circumstances, always struggling to be the god people expect him to be rather than the inadequate fake his humility can make him look at himself as, he likes football and pretzels and pulp novels and Metallica, he gets a kick out of writing because it’s one of the few things he can do on an even playing field, he’s not sure how best to raise his kid, he worries that that one alien dictator is going to pop by again soon and he might not be ready to deal with it, he has to coordinate dates with his wife precisely because they both have such busy schedules, he counts dust particles in the air when he gets bored, and he believes in everybody. There’s so much going on with this guy, this identity-case, this brute, this pacifist, this establishment-man, this rebel and idealist and weirdo and a dozen other conflicting things. He’s been and done just about everything with charm and style over the decades, and it works, because it all adds up into one nice guy’s unusual, well-rounded life. And because it’s always anchored by an understanding: for all that he’s a unique freak of creation, he knows that in all the madness and uncertainty and horror, the one thing we have to rely on is each other. So he’ll put on his suit and throw himself out there against the only things in the universe that could kill him when he could be doing anything else, because he’s found a home with us little people when he lost his, and he knows we’re worth the fight; everyone is, aliens just like him in their own ways, waiting to be saved the way they saved him when he landed in a field. That’s why Superman’s great.

[norepetitivebeats]

Power Jam Featuring Chill Rob G - The Power (Vocal) (1990)

Another reviewer wrote about the Power Jam Featuring Chill Rob G release of “The Power” on Wild Pitch: "The Original that Snap Ripped-off”. That’s a rather short and misleading history of this record. The Wild Pitch release features the tag line: “A Wild Pitch reconstruction of a Logic reconstruction of a Wild Pitch production by DJ Mark, The 45 King.” So, here’s the extended version of the story: Logic refers to the German label that at the beginning of January 1990 released the 1989 production “The Power” of Frankfurt-based producers Michael Münzing (AKA Benito Benites) and Luca Anzilotti (AKA John Virgo Garrett III). Münzing had been an owner of clubs such as El Cid in Tel Aviv (1977), Eisbär in Frankfurt (1980) and, together with Sven Väth and Matthias Martinsohn the Omen in Frankfurt (1988) which was arguably the birthplace of the German Techno/Rave movement of the 1990s. Working as a DJ,
Münzing incorporated electronic musical instruments in his sets at the legendary Dorian Gray in Frankfurt during the 1980s and used elaborate extended edits of songs which he created by splicing 1/4″ tape.
 Anzilotti started DJing in London but when he moved to Frankfurt in 1982, he was immediately inspired by Michael to buy a Korg MS10 and a Roland TR606. Münzing and Anzilotti start producing their first records together with Väth under the name “OFF” (Organisation For Fun) in 1985 and later (without Väth) under the name “16 Bit”. In 1989, they embark on a Studio project which combines their previous electronic productions, the budding house genre and elements of hip hop, which until then had no place on German radio nor charts and was an underground sound as far as clubs is concerned. Concerned about negative preconceptions of Germans making such music they chose new aliases for the Production credits of the project: Münzing calls himself Benito Benites and Anzilotti becomes John Virgo Garrett III. As an artist name they chose “Snap!” – inspired by a function in their sequencer. The first result of their work was an enormously successful track called “The Power” which trail-blazed a string of successful Euro-Dance releases by cleverly combining mainly pre-existing material with a few added touches: For the beats they sampled a part of Mantronix' 1988 record "King Of The Beats" which in itself is a collage of samples from Rufus Thomas
’ “Do the Funky Penguin”, The Winstons “Amen, Brother”, The Meters’ "Same Old Thing", Kool & The Gang’s “Jungle Jazz”, Pleasure’s “
Celebrate the Good Things”, The Magic Disco Machine’s "Scratchin’", Bob James’ Take Me To The Mardi Gras” and Original Concept
’s “Pump That Bass”. The Mantronix beat used for “The Power” is the section based on the Meters’ tune. There have been no reports about copyright litigation over this, possibly because Mantronix’ own work is sample based. The famous female chorus "I've got the power" is of course Jocelyn Brown sampled from the accapella of her 1985 single “Love's Gonna Get You". Many years later, Jocelyn was still awaiting financial compensation of this unauthorised use of her vocals: In 2009 it was reported that she (together with Warner Brothers) was planning a lawsuit valued at 11.5 million Euro (at the time: $16 million, £10 million) to gain 50% of the global earnings of the Snap track, which has reportedly appeared in more than 500 adverts and films (think Jim Carey’s “Bruce Almighty”, for example). (Search Youtube for "Jocelyn Brown discusses her voice behind SNAP's record "The Power" on BBC1 TV Interview" for an interview with her.) In their defense, the producers of “The Power” have reportedly claimed that the hook is actually not a sample, but a re-recording by a studio singer. In the video for “The Power” a woman called Jackie Harris (Pittsburgh born Jacqeline Arlissa Harris) lip-syncs to the chorus and any other parts of the female vocals. Harris was just a visual stand-in for the studio singer they had used for various tracks on the Snap album that featured “The Power”: Penny Ford (sister of Sharon Redd). Münzing and Anzilotti had tried to hire Chaka Khan for their Snap! Project. At that time (1989) Chaka shared an apartment in London with Penny and told her: "I don't do rap. You know how to do that stuff, you go do it." Penny continues: “And the rest is history. I went to Germany to sing on some stuff I thought I'd never hear again. I sang for three days, collected a fee, and thought I would never hear of it again […] [I]t was more or less [Münzing and Anzilotti ] picking me up by the scruff of my neck like a pit bull and throwing me in the [recording] booth with a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of champagne and turning the mike on. That's how it happened. (laughing) And I'd just create. I just sang the first thing that came off the top of my head, because I didn't understand that music, and I didn't think I'd ever have to hear it again. […] I was just making [lyrics] up as I go along.” Some of Penny’s ad libs on “The Power” are for example a rerecording of “Some Love” by Chaka Khan. (Check Youtube for Penny’s original interview with songfacts by searching “Why the real Snap! singer wasn't in the video for The Power”.) The judicial progress of Jocelyn Brown’s and Warner Brother’s claims is unknown, indicating that Brown might have settled out of court. More likely she probably had to accept that, being “simply” the singer of the words “I’ve got the power” she had no enforceable copyright to the songwriting credits of Love's Gonna Get You". That credit goes to Toni Colandreo… It is not known whether anyone apart from those involved in the production of the Snap! recording received any royalty payments. As Penny Ford explains: “Meanwhile, the Germans [Münzing, Anzilotti and Logic] signed with Ariola Munich, who were a sub-company of Arista, which was parented by BMG, Bertelsmann, which is a German company. This was before BMG got to America and it was still RCA in America. […] [The songwriter credits are] still being maneuvered. Basically, what happens is you have people who are published by Sony, you have people who are published by Warner, you have people who are published by BMG or Jive, as I was, and then BMG buys Jive, and then BMG and Sony partner, so where are all these people and where is all the paperwork? So then you have to hire what they call a forensics guy. The have to do CSI: The Musical Version. Which costs money. And if you didn't get your money to begin with, how do you hire a forensics guy? So it's kind of a vicious circle, isn't it?” So, on to the rap then: Session singer Penny Ford, who later became a member of Snap! and toured with the group, explains that Münzing and Anzilotti’s production with the Rob G. vocals “…was the first take of it. They had recorded it and nobody knew it was going to be a hit, and it was long before it was released on any major level. It was a work in progress, and basically what they [later] did was just took him [Rob G.] off of it and put another rapper [Turbo B] on it.” She actually does not refer to Rob G.’s vocals as a sample and explicitly states: “Well, there was a rapper named Chill Rob G, and he had recorded it with them. And I guess he [later] decided that he didn't want to make an alliance with them.” This account seems inaccurate and unreliable, which is understandable, considering that she had just gone to Germany and “sang for three days, collected a fee, and thought I would never hear of it again”. She does not mention ever meeting or witnessing Rob G. recording it for Münzing and Anzilotti. So, here is the more believable and widely documented version: US rapper Chill Rob G, born Robert Frazier, was part of the Flavor Unit collective, which included DJ Mark The 45 King, Lakim Shabazz, and Queen Latifah, among others and received lots of airplay support by DJ Chuck Chillout (98.7 Kiss FM and 107.5 WBLS, in New York City) and especially DJ Red Alert (98.7 Kiss FM, NYC). Before he was signed to any record label he recorded two demo tracks with Mark The 45 King which they passed to Red Alert for airplay. At that time the owner of the newly created Wild Pitch record label, Stu Fine, was looking for artists to sign to his label. He heard the show, called Red Alert and got in touch with Rob G. who agreed to sign his first record deal in 1987. After his solo debut “Dope Rhymes / Chillin’” in 1988 Wild Pitch released Chill Rob G’s second 12” record in 1989 called “The Court Is Now In Session / Let The Words Flow”. The record was produced by Mark The 45 King and features Vocal, Dub and Acapella versions of both tracks. In an interview in 2006, Rob G says: “…see, I told Mark we shouldn’t keep putting accapellas! I said it, and it happened! ‘If we keep putting accapellas on these records, somebody’s gonna snatch the accapella and make a whole ‘nother record of it’. That’s exactly what they did!” Münzing and Anzilotti sampled four verses of Chill Rob G’s vocals from the Acapella of “Let The Words Flow” and used them as the rap for their Snap! production (as well as two saxophone / horn riffs for good measure…). Rumour has it that Wild Pitch’s Stu Fine had consented to the sample being used in Germany. Rob G. speculates: “I think Stu Fine probably had a deal under the table with Arista records out in Germany, and he actually licensed the record to them – but they didn’t have a deal for the US. So since the record was doing so big out there, Stu came to me as if he had no idea what was going on and he said ‘Yo Rob, let’s put the song out. I mean it’s doing really well in Germany, we might as well make some money out [of] this’. I mean it was me, it was my stuff, so I said ‘Cool, let’s do it’. So we put the song out” on a Wild Pitch12inch credited to Power Jam Featuring Chill Rob G. and on Rob G.’s debut album “Ride the Rhythm”. Chill Rob G.’s own 12” of “The Power” on Wild Pitch features no background vocals to replace Penny Ford part on the Snap! release. The only female voice heard on the Mark The 45 King production is the Jocelyn Brown sample though the Wild Pitch cassette from 1990 (which I haven’t heard myself) credits “additional vocals” to a certain “Kim Davis”. The notion that Power Jam was another moniker for Münzing and Anzilotti is discredited by the remarks that can be found on the Wild Pitch vinyl and cassette releases: “A Wild Pitch reconstruction of a Logic reconstruction of a Wild Pitch production by DJ Mark, The 45 King.” and “a Wild Pitch reconstruction mixed by Nephie Centeno / original production by DJ Mark, the 45 King”, respectively. Meanwhile, Snap’s “The Power” started to blow up in more and more countries outside Germany. Rob G. recalls: “…and then the next thing you know Arista Records decided that they wanted to put it out over here [in the US] too, but since they couldn’t use me – they couldn’t just put out the same record [Münzing and Anzilotti’s production with the Rob G. sample] – that’s when they got Turbo B to go in the studio […] Turbo B, born Maurice Durron Butler on 30 April 1967, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, USA used to be a drummer in a heavy-metal band. He enlisted with the US Army in July 1985 and eventually was sent to Friedberg, Germany to join the 60th Ordnance Company in Ray Barracks. After completing his service in the Army he returned to the USA but went back to Germany shortly thereafter to tour with The Fat Boys doing Human Beatboxing. He eventually stayed in Germany and in the late 80s joined the “We wear the Crown“ crew in Frankfurt, another member of which was a certain Moses Pelham. Pelham adopts the stage name “Moses P.” under which he records his solo debut “Twilight Zone” as well as Ay - Ay - Ay (What We Do For Love)” with Rico Sparx, both for Münzing and Anzilotti . When the need arises to release and promote “The Power” internationally Münzing and Anzilotti have to address the problem that Wild Pitch is releasing the Mark The 45 King reconstruction of their song in the USA with Chill Rob G adding newly recorded verses and that they themselves are missing a face for the rapper in the Snap! video needed to promote “The Power” adequately. Looking at their roster and wider circle of potential contributors they identify Turbo B as a suitable replacement just as they find a replacement for Penny Ford in Jackie Harris, Turbo B.’s cousin. The commercial success of their Arista backed single is enormous around the world while the Wild Pitch single in comparison remains an ill promoted independent release. As Rob G. says: “it was Arista records versus Wild Pitch Records, you know what I’m sayin’? So Wild Pitch lost – big time. ‘Cause Arista was global and Wild Pitch was like “Who’s Wild Pitch?” I was still running around, doing what I could do to help our cause, but we just couldn’t beat that money, man.” Over the years this changes in certain circles: Being on a highly regarded label from Hip Hop’s “Golden Age” and being one of a handful of releases by Chill Rob G. some hip hop aficionados hold his version in higher regards. Due to the popularity of Rob’s flow and Mark’s raw(er) production amongst Hip Hop cognoscenti the Power Jam version has been put on a pedestal by some commentators who are concerned about preserving “the true art form”. They dismiss Turbo B.’s rap as a failed attempt to sound similar Rob G. while adding some dubious rhymes of his own lines, like “Maniac brainiac winning the game / I'm the lyrical Jesse James” as well as “so please, stay off my back / Or I will attack and you don't want that” and ironically "copywritten lyrics so they can't be stolen". Turbo B’s commercial success under Münzing’s and Anzilotti’s production is unquestionable. It is interesting though that on what is supposedly the “Official Snap!/Turbo B. Website” his accolades reach the climax in this story from The Universal Zulu Nations 30th Anniversary (October 2003 in Harlem): “Turbo B. was pleasantly surprised when after [the] announcement of him and his accomplishments, he received a standing ovation to the strands of "The Power" by Hip Hop's elite, and AFRIKA BAMBAATAA (in full view of MELLE MEL, one of Turbo's chief inspirations) personally inducted him into The Universal Zulu Nation...” Source for Penny Ford quotes: http://m.songfacts.com/blog/interviews/penny_ford_of_snap_/ Source for Chill Rob G. quotes: http://www.unkut.com/2006/12/chill-rob-g-interview-part-1/ Source for Turbo B quote: http://www.angelfire.com/tn3/universalgroupnj/snapbio.html 

- Yemsky via discogs.com January 19, 2012

[tortoisesforhire]

Shipping!! And couple dynamics in fiction

So I’ve been looking a lot at like, specifically the couples that I ship and support in various media and the couples who I absolutely abhor and want to die in a fiery fire of fire, and I started asking myself...why? Why Alex? Why do you hate them so? Oh I’m so glad you asked self! I shall tell you!

Let’s look at a case study for What I Absolutely Hate OMG Why; Buffy and Angel from Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Muahahahaa!! Yes, I know, How DArE I betray the Ultimate Ship! But see, I don’t really care.) I haaaaate BuffyxAngel, I hate them in the beginning of Buffy, I hate them in Angel and I hate them in the comics. They are a garbage couple of garbage-ness. (sorry not sorry) 

I’ll explain; so Buffy the Vampire Slayer is a fifteen year old girl gifted with Chosen Magical Girl powers to save the universe from monsters, she and her loyal scoobies go on to slay, smash and otherwise pwn the dark forces of the night. Horay! Only alas! Here comes Angel, he’s Dark and Spooky and Filled with Self Loathing! What is a poor girl to do? He’s chiseled and mysterious with a wounded heart of gold all wrapped up nicely for Buffy to save. With her ‘love’. Ahem. 

From the get-go this relationship is Hella toxic, Angel’s entire arc when involved with Buffy revolved around Buffy; whether its Buffy saving the day or Buffy saving him. Saving him from himself, from his past, from his evil-sex-curse (don’t even get me started on that little bit of writing I mean wtf Joss?) all the while Angel is over a hundred years old and Buffy is sixteen. She is a baby! Infant little slayer tasked with saving (and often dying) for the world, and here comes this wounded heart vampire boy who leeches off of her goodness. All they do is take from one another, but the narrative is set up so that we believe their soulmates, doomed to be apart for all time. It’s gross. 

And they represent a very prevalent relationship archetype in fiction; Doomed Soulmates. This idea that an innocent badass naive teen girl gets swooped off her feet by a wounded hero with a dark past and the two prance off into the sunset in all their fractured glory. (Hello Twilight, Vampire Diaries, Shadowhunters etc etc) It simultaneously manages to cast the female in the role of both victim and savior while the man is reduced to Sexy Fallen Angel who serves only to further her story. 

Now, let’s flip this and look at some relationships that are Wonderful. Since I started picking on Buffy I’ll stick with that theme for a bit and talk about one of my Favorite Couples (srsly I love them) Buffy x Spike. (I bet you thought I was gonna talk about Willow x Tara, don’t worry, I’ll get there.) I adore Buffy and Spike’s relationship for several reasons but one of which was because it wasn’t planned. Buffy and Angel were very obviously a part of the story plot from the get go, their narrative beats were very expected and typical. Buffy and Spike? They were so organic. They were allowed to develop and grow and change as time went on. A big problem I have with the aformentioned horrible relationship is the age difference, it’s a weirdly common thing in fantasy fiction where the guy is like a hundred years old and the girl is like, a baby. And yeah, Spike is also like a hundred years old with a dark past, but at the point where they start their relationship Buffy is an adult, she’s been through some shit, they’re both wounded and fractured and their respective experienced place them on equal footing. 

Honestly, there’s so much in their relationship dynamic that I love and idk if I have the space to put it all here so I’ll just cover the highlights. So a) their beginning is very unhealthy and it is allowed to be unhealthy. It’s not framed as innocently romantic or pure or whatever. It’s rough and sharp edged and exactly what you would expect from two people as damaged as they are. They hurt each other, and then save each other and hate each other, but love each other. And this is allowed to be unhealthy to the point where both of them say it and try and untangle themselves from it. B) They get each other, Angel was always trying to subtly control Buffy. To pull or push her into something else, he saw her as this pure righteous savior figure, so she felt she had to be that. Spike see’s her as a warrior, someone who has died multiple times and isn’t okay, someone who has killed and learned to live with the scars. Someone like him. He accepts her exactly as she is, and she learns from this to see him as he is and accept him (and herself) more fully. C) They act like a real couple acts. Real couples don’t just wrap themselves around one another and coo and sigh about how in love they are 24/7. Real couples hang out, real couples don’t live in this extreme hot/cold dynamic, they just interact normally. And Buffy and Spike, no matter where they are in their relationship have that dynamic, that easy camaraderie where they can just exist with one another. They’ve seen each others absolute worst and love each other in spite of it. They’re complex and they grow together, into and around one another. It’s great, it’s beautiful, I have a lot of feelings. 

But the real difference between them is a fundamental difference in equality. The Angel/Buffy dynamic was never equal. And it frames emotional abuse tactics as romance and I find that quite creepy. 

I think the real difference between Good Couples and Bad Couples is in the intentions of the writer when writing them. With Buffy/Angel we were being sold something, this Tragic Romance picture. With Ross/Rachel we’re being sold on the ultimate Will They/Won’t They (they shouldn’t), with Sam/Jack it’s the quintessential Jock/Nerd. They decided on an image before hand and then tried to tailor the narrative to suit that image. Whereas Good Couples, couples that really resonate with an audience are couples that result from the narrative itself, not the other way around. 

Tara x Willow showed up out of no where and and struck deep, all of us little baby queers saw that and were like Yes! That is Me! Right there! And then they developed like a real couple would, they went through real struggles (mostly, I mean I doubt any of us have ever lost our memories due to an evil goddess from another dimension but hey, who knows) we got to bear witness to their love and cheer it on from beginning to end (the ending that shall not be named). 

I’ve always loved relationships that take characters from really different places and allow them to grow and learn about one another in new and exciting ways. Monica and Chandler who are so different but who are able to appreciate and celebrate those differences with one another. Cory and Topanga who share a childhood and are one another biggest fan throughout their whole lives, growing and sharing those experiences. Mary and Matthew, Claire and Jamie, Jim and Pam, Jessica and Luke, all these couples are couples who are allowed to be broken together. Allowed to grow and change and aren’t stuck in the same stagnant place where they started. 

Romance is a fun fictional genre, it’s exciting to explore and endlessly interesting when done right. But it’s easy for it to get stale. I want stories that bend the rules, who discard them altogether. I want a romance that changes, give me a story where two people love one another in continually changing ways. Don’t just tell me two people are in love, prove it. Prove to me that they are soulmates, allow them to prove it to each other. 

One of my favorite stories, and I talk about it all the time, is OurImpavidHeroine’s Wuko-verse. She starts with Mako and Wu, weaving this exquisite love story between two people who could not be more different but who love one another and then make it work. They have problems and work through them. Then she introduces this third character Qi who just shoves in and makes themselves at home and now we get to explore what that is like, and how that changes things. She approaches Polyamory not as some kind of kink, it’s not about sex, she just follows these characters in their relationship and love and trust for one another and it’s so organic and beautiful that you can’t help but root for them. She takes your expectations and destroys them, disregards what you thought you were here for, well now you’re here for this! And that, I think is what romance is about. It’s not about Happily Ever After, it’s about How Do They Make It Work. How do they fight for each other, with one another, how do they grow, where do they compromise, how do they raise children, what about career, what about this or that or whatever. She allows them to be real. 

Most romances, I find, don’t allow their characters to be real. To act like real people. I want to read a Cinderella story where she has to adjust and learn to be royalty, how does she go from extreme abuse and poverty to suddenly being in charge of a country? How does he help her? What about the kingdom? How do they feel about having a maid as a queen? I want that story. I’m tired of romances that only exist in the beginning of a relationship. The ‘falling in love’ part. I’m tired of ending at the first kiss. I’m tired of this whispy ‘happily ever after’ bullshit. Give me the grit! Give me the drama! Give! Me! The Meat! 

In Amazon’s Mrs. Maisel, season two see’s her parents trying to reconnect. Her mother runs away to Paris because she finds she has no place or purpose with her husband or daughter anymore. She’s invisible at home so she leaves and finds herself in Paris. Remembers how to be happy and alone once more. When he shows up after he’s done throwing a fit he takes the time to live with her in Paris, to fall in love again, to fall in love with what she loves, to listen to how she feel’s. It’s this beautiful picture of two people in later years learning how to love one another again. That’s the sort of romance I’m here for, not this bubblegum high-school bullshit. Don’t give me Love At First Sight, that’s crap, give me Love After Fifty Years, Love Eventually, Love after War, Love in Spite of Everything. That’s the kind of relationship we’re missing in fiction.