#she was put in a lot of impossible situations where her choice to survive meant she had do really really fucked up things

[ow1et]

literally if owlet is being a pest all you have to do is throw her in the closest body of water and she'll sink like a rock.

[maria-sultada]

I turned 26 today.

But 26 wouldn’t be possible without Twenty Five. 

Twenty Five conquered so much in silence. She was called names far from her own. She was portrayed as a cheap jewel on somebody’s crown, a situation to be handled and a hurricane that’s too much for some spaces to contain. 

There are days that Twenty Five would be haunted by Twenty Four, the ghost of a soul still stuck in a coastal town where the salt air smells of questions and regret. The unwelcome visitor would often remind her of her mistakes, leaving her with no other choice than listen until it decides to leave.

Twenty Five learned a lot of lessons. She now knows that the best time to ride an MRT is around 9 in the morning, and that taxis will not hesitate to leave if she’s unsure of her destination.

She also realized that no matter how loud, false and damaging the whispers are, real strength comes from knowing that some sides of a story are better left untold - to protect others, even the undeserving.

Twenty Five also learned the hard way that realities she cannot bring into the light should not be considered real at all, that being brutally honest is always better than giving fake niceties and that self-respect is a need, not an act of selfishness.

The mean street taught her that some people hurt others because of weakness and not of wickedness - but regardless of how weak a person is, no one should be excused for blurring the truth and using people as staircases and elevators.

Twenty Five has explored places she never would have gone. She has seen both the ethereal and the ugly. Luckily, she survived through clinging to things she cannot give away: art, integrity, passion and purpose. A lot of thanks to her friends who can down glasses of amaretto sour as good as they can put things in perspective, those who can reply with dozens of paragraphs in just three seconds. Thanks to her family who never asked any questions when she went home with a new tattoo.

Now, I turned 26. I wish to have a better year where Twenty Five can be happier, braver and more peaceful.

I really hope she would have the courage to conquer spaces she once thought were never meant for her. I wish her faith and her heart would be enough to win over the impossible.

[devil-doll13]

Okay! I got some of the questions ready for you this morning!

😓 - What was the most difficult victim your OC ever had? Did they have a tough fight? Did your OC get hurt/injured? Zach, Max

🥩 - Would your OC eat someone if they had to? Are they already a cannibal? If so, why? Abigail, Jude, Zach

🧓 - Do you think they would ever ‘retire,’ or will they keep on slashin’ until they’re in the retirement home, Peepaw Myers style? Abigail, Max

🥺 - Do you believe your OC is evil for their actions, or do you think they are justified/have my poor little meow meow status? Abigail, Max

Hi T33th! Ok this was a lot so I put it under the cut:

(Questions Here)

😓 - What was the most difficult victim your OC ever had? Did they have a tough fight? Did your OC get hurt/injured?

Max’s most difficult victim is kind of spoilers tbh because it’s someone who he,,, didn’t defeat. I will say that, given a werewolf’s raw power it’s almost impossible for a human to fight them themselves. They need tools and strategies and this time it was done indirectly. Yes, he did get injured, and was even believed to be dead. When he came to I imagine he was in all sorts of pain and due to short term memory loss, it took him a while to figure out what actually happened, but when he did… It was pretty hard for him to deal with. I think he has a few scars near his abdomen and chest from this actually.

Zach’s most difficult fight will always be from the Abelton Incident. Not to go into too many spoilers but I mean… He lost an entire fucking eye, almost lost his fingers, sustained a whole lot of scars and no doubt broken bones as well. It’s honestly a testament to his strength that he survived it at all. Not only was this difficult for him physically, but mentally and emotionally as well; he was… Dealing with the very recent loss of a loved one. Abigail traumatised him with what she did and, even more horrifically, used the death of this very same loved one in order to hurt him even more. While it was Jude who dealt the final blow, it was his conviction that got them to that point and he’s ultimately just as responsible for their victory. The demon that possessed him may have been Zach’s first brush with a malevolent supernatural force, but to be honest he didn’t really feel the full weight of what it meant to be a hunter until that point in his life.

🥩 - Would your OC eat someone if they had to? Are they already a cannibal? If so, why?

Abigail is already mildly into it bc she’s drank blood before (for various reasons) and,,, enjoyed it,,, she probably wouldn’t care for eating actual organs for leisure bc they have more value to her as ingredients tbh but if she had to? I wouldn’t exactly say she has a weak stomach lol, although I think she’d at least be classy enough to cook that shit first,,,

Jude is literally on the complete opposite end of the spectrum where the idea disgusts her both instinctually and morally. She sees it as depraved, and tbh I think she has the principles to refuse human meat even if she had to starve as a result. It actually wouldn’t be that far fetched if she ended up in the situation bc she,,, kind of has bad luck with these things honestly but she really does see it as deplorable even if the person was already dead.

Zach is funny bc in some ways he’s very noble and will honestly sacrifice himself and in order to save other people, he does genuinely believe in his cause and devotes his life to it but unlike Jude, he’s definitely willing to get down and dirty if he has to and has more of a capacity for both spiteful cruelty and cold pragmatism. Because of this, I would say yes, but only if he was forced into a situation where there was no other choice but to starve (and just like Jude, his luck is pretty bad so lol) and only if the person was already dead. He’d probably be very remorseful and conflicted afterwards though. I don’t doubt he’d wrestle with feelings of shame that he did what he did. It’s ironic, too, because he spends his life going after ghouls and other corpse-eaters…

🧓 - Do you think they would ever ‘retire,’ or will they keep on slashin’ until they’re in the retirement home, Peepaw Myers style?

Abigail is a witch and well,,, I believe we all know about the wicked old hag living in the woods stereotype. If there is no kind of intervention, I can see her steadily degrading over the years and becoming even more inhuman and depraved. This could go a few ways really: either she fits this archetype to a T and retreats into the wilderness once she gets so old she no longer likes travelling, tries to figure out some way to become immortal so she can continue her occult learning, or… Abby will go further down the rabbit whole of insane multidimensional magick and disappear to,,, who the fuck even knows at this point.

Max is likely to go the same way as Jack, that is to say he will become an elder Lycan and probably have an easier time controlling himself as the years go by. I can see him ‘retiring’ and stopping the active killing honestly, but on a more practical note he will probably have to leave Downings at some point. It would be kinda,,, suspicious if he lived there for too long lol. He’d probably go looking for other Lycans to group up with (other than Jack, but he might actually be dead at this point so) since he’s not really suited to being alone, he’ll become depressed if he doesn’t belong to a family tbh. I see him as a cool badass grandpa biker looking dude who is nice to kids and maybe takes after Jack in the sense that he mentors other Lycans as well. Also he’d probably grow his bushy beard out longer lol.

🥺 - Do you believe your OC is evil for their actions, or do you think they are justified/have my poor little meow meow status?

Abigail might have had meow meow status at one point, but it’s become more complicated as I started writing her and I have begun to emphasise her selfishness and cruelty a bit more, bc she is very much both of those things. However I do feel sympathy for her, because with all the neglect she faced, love seemed like an unattainable ideal for her and her other desire for power and knowledge sort of filled that void in her heart. I think if there had been a better upbringing, maybe someone more understanding or who at least cared about her, things could’ve been different; maybe she wouldn’t be stuck in the ‘I am evil’ rut so much. I feel that it’s almost more tragic that she would probably end up in this sort of position anyway because she is by nature an eldritch abomination who tbh can’t really fit in with humans to a degree. Also no, most of her murders are not justified whatsoever and she’s intentionally killed innocents for absolutely no reason on multiple occasions, quite scummy ngl. Once she passed that threshold it was impossible to go back, but at least she looked cool while doing it lol. (Plus I just kinda love evil women so)

Max is ABSOLUTELY my poor little meow meow who has done nothing wrong ever in his life he is my sweet baby boy. The really sad thing about Max is that he had no choice or say whatsoever in his initial slasher actions and basically had no idea wtf was going on, but unlike a certain someone he always retained his more compassionate side and was able to push past it and never willingly killed an innocent. Like, the only people he kills now are done on a judgement basis and I do believe there’s a kind of discussion to be had on whether or not it’s acceptable to like,,, kill someone bc they were rude once lol but I feel like there’s some wiggle room when it comes to him. I can’t bring myself to think of him as evil and I do believe he’s meow meow material <3 which is further helped by the fact he also balances it out with caring for and helping people? Tbh I believe even as a human he didn’t like bullies and growing up as he did with his brothers, he learned how to fight pretty early on so it wasn’t like his ‘justice seeking’ behaviour came out of nowhere. His problem is mostly recognising more subtle assholery

[faiirytalcs]

PHOEBE NAAR is based on FLAME PRINCESS from Adventure Time. She is a 26 year old FIRE DEMON, RAGE CAGE EMPLOYEE, and uses she/her pronouns. She has the power of FIRE MANIPULATION.

Important History

phoebe has never had an easy life. whenever eyes were on her it felt like they were filled with judgement or even hate depending on who it was. she never had much of a chance when she was born so chaotic and out-of-control. but that was the nature of fire, wasn't it?

one single spark was enough to start a wildfire, burning everything in its path and phoebe never meant to do that, never meant for her flames to get out of hand, but fire was so hard to tame

fire had such a bad reputation and, yes, a lot of the times it only left destruction in its path, ashes and rubble but there were parts of nature that needed fire to survive

there was both good and bad in fire and in phoebe as well. but it was her anger that most people saw, it was her rage that they remembered

people didn't take the time to realize that her anger was often rooted in sadness, in the betrayal and heartbreak that she had known so intimately all of her life

her father had locked her up so she wouldn't threaten his kingdom, the one friend she thought she had constantly hurt her (even if he didn't mean to) - it was hard to blame her for putting up her walls of flame, making it so hard for anyone to get close without getting hurt

there were some who took the risk and opened her up to the possibility of trusting, of getting close and creating a meaningful relationship. it didn't come easily, in fact, almost everything in phoebe's nature made her want to run away and leave a trail of smoke until no one could find her but unfortunately, now she couldn't even do that

evermore had trapped her and it brought back horrible memories of the lantern. walls all around her and this time she couldn't even see them. but they were there, keeping her away from her freedom again. it wasn't fair

very claustrophobic considering the whole trapped in a lantern thing. she's fine for a short period of time but after a while, she gets restless and starts panicking when the walls feel like they're closing in

often feels like people are laughing at her or judging her whenever she's in a crowd and can hear giggling, which makes watching a funny movie or going to the comedy store almost impossible as she will go into a slight rage if she thinks someone is talking about her

has gotten better about controlling her flames and the effects they have on her when touched by water. it still hurts, definitely still unpleasant, but it's a duller pain now and not something that immediately makes her defensive and angry

left to her own devices, phoebe will be perfectly calm and content. it's only when people mess with her and try to control her, or they say something that hits on one of her insecurities, that she is thrown into a quick rage and why she has such a reputation for a short-temper

has discovered blunt honesty and really leans into it. she hates secrets and when people lie to her because she doesn't really understand the point of it? why lie when most situations are made worse by the inevitable web that you'll get tangled up in. it's better to be honest and deal with the consequences

doesn't miss her dad in the least. if anything, she's happy to be far away from him in a place where he most likely will never find her nor, at this point, will she be able to get back to ooo or the flame kingdom. maybe now she'll be able to live her own life, with her own choices

APPEARANCE

Face Claim: sarah gustafsson

Height: 5'8

Build: athletic

Eye Color: brown

Hair Color: dark brown

Piercings: ears (2x)

PERSONALITY

Positive Traits: passionate, honest, determined, decisive

Negative Traits: intense, short-tempered, paranoid, immature

Likes: lighting matches & holding them until they burn out, fireproof suits, silk sheets, crisp hair styles, warm palettes, getting revenge on evil people, holding grudges

Dislikes: any form of water, people whispering close by, her father, small spaces, being told she can't do something, liars, getting caught in the rain

Phobias: hydrophobia

Hobbies: welding, practicing control, boxing

Aesthetic: lighting fires to watch them burn, going too far in a fight, losing control at the drop of a hat, shades of red, hearing whispers and feeling a flame grow, assuming the worst but wishing for the best, disappointment after disappointment, feeling trapped no matter where you are

FAMILY

Mother: does it matter?

Father: flame king

Sibling(s): n/a

Pet(s): flambo ( orange cat )

[linkspooky]

Tall Buildings Falling Down

It’s especially important that Uraraka was the one to hear this, a hero overhwhelemd by the demands of saving people, deciding to just give up and quit his job. Important because, out of all the characters in class 1-A Uraraka is unique for two reasons. One, Uraraka is perhaps the only student in her class who admitted she’s in the hero business for the money, she joined because it’s a lucrative job. 

Second, despite the fact that Uraraka only wanted to become a hero for the money, she idolizes heroes just as much as the rest of her class does. This has led Uraraka to question herself as times, because she doesn’t believe her motivations for being a hero are as good as the rest of her classmates. 

Uraraka is also attached to the overly idealized image of heroes that was sold to the rest of her classmates, that heroes always save people, that heroes are righteous, heroes are good and everything that gets in the way of heroes is bad. Heroes are here to protect us, heroes make people happy. Uraraka carries this overly idealized image of heroes inside of her.

However, ideals always fall short of the reality. When Uraraka saw Deku struggling with all of his might, that’s when the first cracks began to appear. Because Deku, he was hurting himself even as they fight Chiaki. 

Who protects the heroes when they need protecting? I think Uraraka means this especially in regards to Deku. Being a hero is hurting Deku. Deku pushes himself to such an extent that he breaks his body over and over again. Being a hero is supposed to be a good thing, but under the current system even being a hero causes Deku to suffer because it requires so much out of him, he must continually break his body again and again in order to keep up with the others. All Deku thinks of is saving others, he’s more heroic than most, and yet, the current system isn’t designed to stop this behavior. More than anything else it’s focused on strength, on Deku learning to strengthen his quirk, not learning how to take care of himself. The system values powers over people, but Uraraka is so empathic she sees Deku as a person and notices that he’s suffering because of it. All Deku wants is to be a hero, but what is a hero under the current system? Someone strong enough to win and beat all the bad guys. 

It’s clear that in hero society, heroes are valued much more for winning, rather than saving. When saving is what is needed especially in this chapter. Uraraka sees someone who became a hero for all the wrong reasons, just giving up and quitting. In the same chapter where Uraraka’s thoughts are literally just, there must be more people, there must be more people I can save, just over and over again. 

Uraraka herself has become more and more selfless, as she’s progressed as a character, more focused on saving people especially after watching Deku push himself to such extremes in the name of saving others. However, that’s not necessarily true for the adults around her. Uraraka who began all of this by just seeing heroics as a job, sees an adult who just treats it like a job too, giving up. 

As buildings are falling down all around her, Uraraka’s idea of heroes begin to fall too. To be fair, no one person could ever deal with a disaster of this magnitude all on their own. Society’s expectations of heroes were too high in the first place, no one can be perfectly selfless all the time, the perfect savior that saved everyone that all might tried to create was never going to save everyone. However, at the same time heroes get away with a lot, because people uncritically see heroes as “good” no matter what they do, to the point where the kids rejected any and all criticism of the heroes around them. However, in this chapter after fighting with everything they had to defend those same heroes, they meet the disappointing reality. 

The same adults who brought Kaminari Denki to the battelfield when he wasn’t ready, because they weren’t strong enough to fight the evil on their own, who insisted that they needed to fight the villains in this surprise ambush and start with war. 

The same adults that told them everything would be alright, that the heroes would always win, that they would go home and go back to school after all of this are now lying dead in the ruins of the cities they failed to save. 

ANd, what are we meant to take from this? Heroes can’t save everyone, that’s obvious. Heroes are flawed and make flawed choices. However, the students in looking up to their teachers idealize them a little too much, to the point where it becomes impossible for them to accept any criticism of the heroes. 

However, the kids are starting to see that heroes aren’t perfect. Theymake mistakes. They’re flawed. The problem with the kids isn’t that they liked heroes, it’s that their ideals were completely black and white. Heroes good, villains bad. Heroes always save people. Heroes can’t ever be selfish, self-serving, or flawed as the rest of us, because well they’re heroes. 

If heroes are supposed to save people, then what about the people they don’t save? That’s the question that Himiko brings to Uraraka, however, Uraraka can’t even understand the question. In Uraraka’s idealized reality there is no situation where heroes fail to save someone. Heroes are always well-meaning. Heroes always do their best to save others. There’s nobody who’s been failed, or even hurt by heroes. Uraraka doesn’t understand that people like Himiko have been disappointed and failed by heroes over and over again, and some of them like Dabi have been outright abused. Uraraka cannot understand that the heroes that are helping her, the quirk therapy system that never hurt her, could have harmed someone so thoroughly as it did Himiko that she believes that the only way to survive is to fight back and even kill. Uraraka just hasn’t seen a reality where heroes fail to save people. In Uraraka’s world, heroes are good, heroes are selfless, heroes are kind. Himiko can’t possibly have a reason. If Himiko wants to hurt people, she must have chosen to do that on their own. If Himiko wants to hurt people then she must be a bad person.

Heroes save people, so if Himiko questions heroes, or tries to fight back against them, then Himiko is just getting in the way. Then Himiko is just being selfish. She’s putting her own needs, and her own hurt feelings over all of those innocent people that are in need of saving. See, Uraraka can’t understand that heroes can hurt people too, so she doesn’t understand that someone like Himiko who has been hurt by the heroes, by the people supposed to save her, might be in need of saving. 

Uraraka can’t perceive of a reality where heroes would disappoint, or would hurt others. So, Uraraka’s declaration is partially made in ignorance. She says that Himiko has to live with the consequences of her actions, but Uraraka at the same time isn’t living in the same reality that Himiko is. She’s been protected, sheltered so far, and her point of view comes from that fact. The same system that helped Uraraka, has also hurt Himiko, and Uraraka can’t grasp that. Uraraka first fails to save Himiko, and then this chapter she’s met with the same thing. 

Uraraka learns the harsh truth in this chapter. That not all heroes are invested in saving other people as she is. That not all of them are doing this out of the goodness of their hearts. 

If a hero can stare at this wreckage where so many innocent people are screaming for help, and then just give up. Just say, it’s too hard to save all these people. How many kids in this wreckage are going to get helped? How many are the heroes going to take care of? How many are they just going to give up on because it’s too hard? The thing is, every single kid in this broken down city could turn into another Himiko, because people aren’t good or bad. Circumstances are good and bad, they shape people in good and bad way. The same way that the children asking for help in this city are victims of circumstance, Himiko too was just another victim of circumstance, just another child that didn’t get saved. The only difference between her and the others is that she grew up and fought back. 

Heroes don’t save everyone and something needs to be done about that. Heroes aren’t perfect, however, closing your eyes to that reality and pretending they are, pretending that everything just fine means that nothing is going to change and nothing is going to improve. It’s only when the kids see the flaws in the adult heroes around them, that they can see how they as the next generation can be better than them. Go beyond plus ultra, right? If this manga is about becoming the best hero you can be. Then, the kids should be thinking about how they can save, even the ones that the adult heroes have given up on saving. 

[thepaperpanda]

♥ Dangerously Perfect Match ♥ || Part II

♥Part I♥

Summary: You’re the Earl of little settlement deep inside the forests of Norway. After Ragnar Lothbrok’s death you and your warriors travel to England to support Ragnar’s sons in the battle against Christians. Shortly after a victory, you and Ivar turned out to be a dangerously perfect match?

Warnings: explicit content - smut

Words: 8846

Authors: Cass & Rouge

It's not that you all expected plain sailing, or for winds to be kind, the waves to be gentle; it's that you trusted your ships to carry yourselves to shore no matter the weather. It was a confidence born of faith, of feeling to your bones that with such tenacity you could achieve anything at all. They said it's only impossible until it's done, that was your motto under all skies, upon all seas.

Thankfully, Gods fostered your attempts of getting back to Norway - despite the storms and heavy rain, all the longships made it back to the homeland.

A smile spread across your lips, it was good to be back home.

Dressed in your usual attire with addition of a new warm cloak gifted by Ivar, you stood at the front of your ship. Holding the ropes tightly you turned to your troops. "We made it, friends! Gods blessed us and allowed us to return home so we can fight yet another day!,” You yelled and your people's voices reared loudly.

Ivar kept his eyes fixed on you since the moment you left England. He wasn't truly happy with you sailing among your warriors but it's your decision, with which he couldn't argue. They needed their Earl after all. He rolled head back to rest it against the wooden edge of the boat.

"Land sighted, master!," One of his men shouted.

"Drop the canvas," Ivar ordered as he propped head on the edge of the boat to admire the beautifulness of the shoreline.

Of course, his glance also moved to look at you. Oh, how he missed your body next to his.

Hvitserk's tone pulled him out of thoughtfulness. "Are you sure it's a good idea? Harald Finehair isn't a person you can fully trust."

"I trust no one," Ivar snapped back. "I have the last say."

You walked among your people, gently touching the shoulders of your warriors. It was a simple gesture, a little bit of a comfort and small thanks for their loyalty.

For now this was all you could do, to show your gratitude toward them all.

The ship moored in Harald's docks. You heard a lot about him and his ambitions, and honestly you expected much more from his settlement.

After jumping off of your ship you let out a sigh of relief. Solid ground under your feet. "I hope you didn't miss me too much, Ivar?," You asked him with a cocky smile which was partially hidden by your mask. Since it was damaged in the battle you didn't bother to fix it or make a new you. It was enough your scars weren't fully visible.

Ivar's blue eyes glistened in the rays of the setting sun, and his long lashes casted a little shadow on his clearly defined cheeks. "You need to answer this question to yourself, dear Earl."

After these words he passed you, offering you a mischievous grin as he did.

Hvitserk, who jumped out of the boat on the pier, gave you a long glance, his brows cocked. "Why are you questioning such an obvious thing?"

The red line on his nose reminded you about your last true interaction back in York. "It's called teasing, Hvitserk. Men love it. It's time to learn it."

Humming, you quickly boarded the ship that brothers traveled in. You crouched in front of the bishop and gently caressed his cheek to see if he even survived the long trip.

Man instantly reacted to your touch; he winced and spat right into your face. "Get off me, heathen whore."

You flinched and growled, wiping the spit of your face. Getting up to your feet, you pointed at one of your men. "Bring me one of my furs." Once the fur was in your hands, you wrapped it around the man that just insulted you. "Since Ivar has big predictions when it comes to you. The last thing we want is you getting ill."

Bishop was glaring up at you, not being sure whether you were mocking him or not. Your behavior was completely out of anything he could have expected. Deep inside Heahmund appreciated the fur being wrapped around his shoulders as he was cold.

"Now. You should be all warm," you muttered, tucking the fur in all the right places to shield him completely from the bitter cold. "Now, you can say that a heathen whore helped you." After those words you simply walked away to join Ivar and Hvitserk.

Two men tugged on the ropes wrapped tightly around his neck and wrists, pulling bishop behind them. He hated his position, but it was still better than death from pagans hands.

Harald groaned annoyed, getting comfortable in his throne. Last thing he expected or really needed was Ragnarssons visiting him. He already knew that young Ivar meant troubles. King watched them walk inside the great hall.

Hvitserk was the first one in, taking a comfortable for him spot on one of the tables, while Ivar shuffled behind with his crutch.

To his surprise there was one more visitor; a young woman in a mask. Suddenly the visit became much more interesting. "Ivar and Hvitserk Lothbrok. Why did you not return to Kattegat? I can also see you brought an interesting guest," Harald said with his deep, hoarse voice, pointing his finger at you.

Ivar stopped at the podium and leaned his weight on his crutches. "She's my guest," he said, pointing his chin on you. "You know we couldn't return to Kattegat. That witch, Lagherta, is still a Queen. Me and my brother are looking for alliances that could let us overtake the throne. The throne that belongs to us."

Harald raised from his throne and walked closer to the guests, nodding his head. "Ah, yes. As I can see your need for revenge on Lagertha is burning with a flame that will never go out." King smiled and took your hands into his much bigger and warmer palms. "I know the sons of Ragnar but I have never seen you with any of them. Who are you?"

"My people call me Earl Wolf but my name is Y/N. It's an honor to meet the future king of whole Norway," you said with your voice sweet as honey.

"The pleasure is all mine, Y/N," Harald said before placing a kiss to your palm.

Ivar kept his face straight but the fact you let Harald touch you pierced his heart like a cold needle. "Can we get to the planning? I am not going to spend another hour waiting for you two to exchange pleasantries," young man growled.

Hvitserk, who observed the entire situation while standing in the back of the chamber, snorted quietly. He would never think his brother fell in love so easily.

"Ivar. You brought a beautiful woman in and don't even let me take all of her beauty in," king rolled his eyes.

"As a lady, you flatter me but as the Earl I need to agree. We came here in important matters," you said. "social talks can wait until much calmer times. I can promise you we will have a moment for ourselves."

Listening to you, Harald smiled softly and nodded. "Beautiful and smart. Let's get to planning then. Ivar, I am listening. What do you expect?"

Ivar turned head to throw you a cold glance; did you just plan to spend some time with Harald? Did you really say it aloud in his presence?

"Let's get somewhere where not many curious eyes are on us."

Hvitserk, seeing how his brother and rest are moving to another chamber, followed them.

Oh, Ivar was mad. This is exactly what you wanted, your plan was to rile him up and to see if something interesting will happen. You followed them to be present during the planning.

Talks were long and boring.

Ivar and Harald were arguing for a long time and it wasn't about troops anymore.

The youngest Ragnarson wanted to be the king of the Kattegat after chasing Lagertha, Bjørn and Ubbe away.

At the same time Harald wanted to carry on his great dream of ruling whole Norway.

Thankfully, in the end, they somehow found a way to agree on something.

"You will be a king but when you die the title is passed on me," Harald said, rubbing his forehead.

You let out a little yawn and rubbed your eyes tired. Travel and long boring planning took a toll on you.

Hvitserk didn't say anything during talks; instead, he ate at least four apples and was playing with his little dagger which he used to cut the fruits. It wasn't his thing, all the great planning. All he wanted to do was to return back to Kattegat which was his true home. He didn't really want to stand against Bjørn or Ubbe, but did he have other choice? The decision was made the day he got out of the ship to join his youngest brother.

Ivar put his chalice on the table, nodding briefly at Harald's words. "Sounds like we have it. Just don't be surprised if I'll rule for many long years." The Boneless got up from the chair he sat at and using his crutches, he slowly walked off.

"My men will take care of that Christian prisoner of yours, Ivar," Harald said. "Whatever his point is. If I were you I would just kill him."

You let a soft sigh and decided to join Hvitserk, silently asking him for a piece of an apple.

"But you're not me," Ivar smirked widely at Harald and left.

Hvitserk was highly surprised by your request, but of course, as he had a good soul, he shared one huge apple with you, cutting it in half so it would be easier for you to eat. "You're welcome," he muttered slightly.

"Thank you, Hvitserk. You are a kind soul," you gave him a sweet smile and looked at Harald. "My king? May I know where I can find our prisoner?”

When you received the seeked answer, you bowed your head and walked off.

Bishop was held in a barn, tied to a metal pole in the middle which provided the stability to the roof and construction itself.

His hands were weak as he was forced to hold them above his head for the entire time. The blood circulation faltered and he barely could feel his fingers anymore. Yet, bishop Heahmund was praying quietly. Man was saturated with the intelligent energy of countless prayers - as such being able to carry out supernatural acts. "Credo in Deum Patrem omnipotentem, Creatorem caeli et terrae; et in Iesum Christum, Filium eius unicum, Dominum nostrum...," He was whispering all the time.

You stopped in the door and watched him, praying, it was quite an interesting sight.

"Those have to be a made up babble. No one speaks like this," saying this, you stepped inside and smiled seeing your fur on him, so you dared to point it out. "They let you keep it."

"What do you want, heathen?," He asked weakly. "If you came to kill me, I'll gladly accept my faith. I'm ready, in my God.

As if nothing ever happened, you simply placed yourself on his laps. "You know... I am just a heathen to you but I do have a real name. Maybe I should call you Christian from now on? What do you say, Heahmund?” You presented him the piece of an apple you got from Hvitserk and smiled innocently. "I also brought you this."

"Get off me, woman," he tried to kick you off, but your hips pressed to his side's strongly, holding him motionless. "I don't need your mercy!"

"It's not a mercy. It's called help, you Christian don't know what it is?," You asked with a smile, purposely pressing your hand into him. "Come on, I am sure you are hungry."

He indeed was hungry. Heahmund parted his lips, waiting for you to slip a slice of apple into his mouth.

"Good boy. See? I am not so bad," you chuckled and slipped the slice into his mouth. "I'll get you more if you will want."

He chewed viciously, gagging himself with a not fully chewed piece of the fruit. Truth was he was starving for the last few days and he would give everything for a piece of bread.

"Slow down, we are not going to starve you. I'll make sure of this," you said quietly, touching his shoulder.

He almost gasped as the skin under his clothes were bruised and swollen.

"Right, they got you bad during that battle. Maybe I should undress you and take care of these injuries?," You asked in a hushed voice. "I am sure you would feel much better. You need to be in good shape since Ivar has great plans for you."

Bishop's eyes fixed on your face. He hated your touch on his body but you didn't try to kill him.

Looking him in the eyes your hand started to unbutton the upper part of his armor, not breaking the eye contact for even one second.

Little did you know a pair of incredibly blue eyes were watching your every move. Ivar leant his forehead against the wooden wall of the barn, clenching teeth and rolling palm in a fist. He offered you everything, yet you were still chasing the fucking, useless priest. What man had that he didn't? He felt a strange thing, a twinge of envy.

Slowly you pulled away the armor and hissed, seeing his injury. "Oh, you poor thing, just look at what they did to you." You hand gently touched his skin, making sure to not press the blue and purple spots.

You could hear noises outside the building.

Bishop's eyes widened as he looked past you.

Three warriors, every of them armed in axes walked out of the darkness of the room. "Earl Wolf, you're going with us. Now."

You glared over your shoulder with bored and annoyed look

"What do you want, huh? I am busy, who is even summoning me in such a terrible moment?," You almost growled.

"Now," one of the men repeated and showed the exit with his ax.

Rolling your eyes you let out a loud sigh. "Maybe we will return to that. Only Gods know."

You adjusted Bishop's clothes as much as you could before getting up from his knees. Turning to the warrior you shrugged. "Lead the way," you said and followed them.

They walked in a silence through empty paths of settlement, eventually stopping in front of a little hut almost at the edge of it.

One of them pointed at the door and they turned with their backs to the building.

There was not much you could do but follow this game but honestly you were also really excited to see what is hidden behind the door. After taking a deep breath, you stepped inside.

The hut seemed empty and the only source of light inside were candles standing on the shelves around the chamber and hanging in the metal candle holders attached to the ceiling.

The sweet scent of mead filled the room, and you could spot a chalice full of alcohol placed at the table.

On the right side of the hut there stood a bed with many furs on top of it; it looked inviting. In the end the place was cozy and warm. Next to the chalice you found a piece of paper with one word written on it: UNDRESS.

You walked around the place. It was interesting, who set it up? There were two possible options. Harald who looked really interested in you or Ivar wanted to return the favor from York. That could be fun. Taking the chalice you sat down on the bed.

After drinking a few little sips of the really tasty mead you started to undress.

This actually felt good, as much as you loved your clothes the thick leather was annoying after too many hours in it. Naked, you laid down on the bed and waited.

Suddenly, the candles standing closest to the bed faded away. Then, the candles at the table, and the last to fade were the ones in candle holders.

You sat up and frowned. "Great," muttering, you lied back down, you weren't going to light those candles again.

And then, out of sudden, you could feel a soft touch on your ankle, followed by a hum. Your body's first idea was to react and protect yourself by kicking whoever tried to sneak on you but somehow you stopped yourself. The muscles only twitched a little. Giggling you shook your head. "Ivar, love. Don't do this, I do not want to hurt you."

"Prescient, aren't you?," His voice husky as he crawled fully out of the shadows. His hand placed against your leg and moved up , to rest on your knee as he brushed his full lips against your calf.

You let out a short laugh and hummed. "No other man would do such a thing for me. I am more than sure it was you. Besides, I recognized your hand, love."

Oh, if you could only see the grimace on his face. He continued to brush his lips against your soft, delicate skin until he reached your thighs. Only then he let go of your body and focused on getting on the bed, which was easy for him after all those years of crawling and supporting his upper body part on hands.

"But to send armed guards for me. That was... Interesting idea and the whole preparation for this? I feel like a real princess, you surprised me," you hummed and removed the mask that was still placed on your face. It won't be needed anyway.

He didn't reply, just slipped one of his hands between your thighs, forcing you gently to parted legs. His skilled fingers pressed to your pussy, where he rubbed little circles. "Was it wise to tease me with King Harald?"

"For this all? Of course it was," you said with a humor in your voice and opened your legs to give him as much access as he only needed. "I loved your face, this was my goal, sweetie."

"Was it?," He whispered as his fingers slipped lower to be gently shifted inside of your pussy. "Mmm, nice and wet."

"Yes it was. Everyone can fuck but build it up? It makes stuff more fun and pleasurable," you answered his question and let out a quiet sound. "Wet for my king."

He rolled to his side and to his belly in the end, diving right between your legs. He trailed the tip of his tongue up and down your clit, offering you a few long licks, then Ivar wrapped his mouth fully around your pussy, sucking on it lightly.

You gasped and let out a quiet moan. He was learning fast, he was making you proud.

He let you put your legs on his strong shoulders as he continued to eat your pussy out, humming in appreciation of the taste you left on his tongue. Soon, his mouth was accompanied by two of his slender fingers, slipping rhythmically in and out of your slick cunt.

"You like it? Don't you? You love it after our first night," you said playfully. Your hand moved into his hair to keep him close the whole other hand traveled up your breasts to tease your nipples.

Ivar growled which sent a little vibrations to your slick pussy. He placed a kiss to it and spat on it to make you even wetter than before. His fingers in you were joined by his long, skilled tongue as he tried his best to lick your inner walls and suck in your sweet juices.

His action made you shiver and moan for him even louder. Biting your lips hard,  you nuzzled to the furs beneath your body, focusing on the pleasure he was giving you.

He fingered you until you cum hardly around his fingers. Ivar gave one last lick and sucked his fingers clean, murmuring. "Oh, sweet Y/N, you taste so fucking sweetly I could eat you all day and night long."

Ivar placed kisses to your tummy and licked his way up your body, catching one of your nipples between his teeth, as gently as possible.

The climax washed over you and you tried your best in calming down your breath.

You muttered at the feeling of his mouth and teeth around your sensitive flesh. "I would like to taste myself... Can I?”

Ivar continued with licking his way up your body and finally his lips crushed on yours, and he slipped his tongue past your lips so you could taste yourself.

You returned the kiss and moaned loudly at the sweet taste of your own juices. Dominating his kiss was no use, he was too much into it, both of your hands moved into his hair which to your own surprise were completely loose.

Suddenly, a cold, sharp blade was put to your neck. "I distinctly remember saying I don't like to be mocked," he whispered into your ear.

You gasped loudly and your lips parted. "Ivar... You could warn me that you want to add a knife to bed," swallowing heavily, you could feel the blade against your skin.

"If I would there would be no fun, sweetheart," Ivar kissed your cheek. "Did you enjoy yourself with him? Huh? Did you?," He asked and the blade was pressed more to your skin.

It hit you then. He probably saw you with the Bishop or someone told him. You laughed loudly. "Oh, so this got you going? It made you so angry you planned all of this? Just to pin me down with a knife to my neck?"

"Maybe," he whispered. "I just want to remind you that you're mine, I marked you as mine back in York, and nothing is going to change it."

Ivar hid the knife in his pocket and got off the bed.

You giggled and looked at him while biting your lips. Even if you already knew that Boneless was crazy enough to kill, it didn't frighten you at all. To be completely honest, this action brought a different reaction for you. "I know I am yours. I have never claimed the opposite. You are my lover, my future king," you voice was a soft pur that you knew he loved. Your inner thighs rubbed together in the seek of any friction.

He used his crutches to get to the table and sat on the chair. He refilled the chalice you drank from and downed it quickly.

His eyes glistened in the darkness in a dim moonlight falling onto the chamber through a little window. He was watching you. "Yet you still seemed to seek some adventures. Who is going to be next to be blessed with your body on top of them? Harald? Or maybe my sweet, crazy brother? Or maybe you'll fall for Bjørn?"

You hummed, pretending to think. Your teasing game continued. "King Harald would be a fine adventure, I can already imagine what he sounds like in bed; thanks to that voice of his. Ironside... I heard he is big as a bear, it could be a lot of fun to ride him. Hvitserk... Not really the type of a man I enjoy."

Ivar smirked to himself in the darkness. Oh, he was jealous already, that if you continue, he would simply bathe his dagger in your blood watching how the last ounces of life escape your flesh.

Suddenly, the door opened and a young thrall stepped in. Ivar didn't look at her yet gestured for her to come closer.

You sat up on the bed and watched them with your eyebrow raised.

As the girl brought another jug filled with taste mead, she put it carefully on the table and circled the chair Ivar sat on to gently place her palms on his shoulders. She started massaging him, earning a long moan from him.

"What's your name, sweetie?," Ivar asked, his tone low.

"Katia, my lord," she replied.

"How many springs have you lived?"

"17, my lord."

"The younger the better," Ivar turned his head to the young thrall and pulled her into a short kiss.

You watched them, completely taken aback by his action. Honestly, you felt proud of him in some way. Just a few weeks ago back at York he was all shy and unsure of himself, only to do this. Of course Ivar knew what he was doing because it worked. It worked too well.

The jealousy burned deep inside of you, he gave you a taste of your own action.

Ivar grabbed the woman by hand and pulled her into his lap.

Young thrall pulled her shirts up and straddled his lap. Her arms wrapped around his neck. "I never knew I'll be so close to Ivar the Boneless himself, my master."

"Because you won't be for much longer," you growled as you got up from the bed to move closer to them. Your hand moved into her hair and grabbed a handful, pulling her head away. "Listen to me now, child. If you won't get off him right now and leave, I will make sure to cut you in all of the right places to make sure now man will ever touch you."

That's what Ivar hoped for. "You heard the lady," he looked at the thrall but let himself cup one of her boobs briefly. "Leave now, but stay tuned for maybe you'll be needed to warm my alcove one day."

Young girl hissed but obeyed your words. She got off him and smoothened her dress, quickly leaving.

You chuckled watching her run off.

Humming softly you placed yourself on his lap, and immediately moved into his long, dark hair. "Look at that. Ivar the Boneless, a man who a few weeks ago was afraid to lie with a woman for the very first time. Now is making her envy. Don't you know such a woman can be unpredictable, boy?"

"Is that so sweet Y/N?," Your name rolled from his lips as he moved his head closer to your naked body, inhaling your scent as he brushed his lips against your collarbone, his hands in gloves stroked the curves of your waist.

You giggled and continued to play with his hair, scratching his scalp with your long nails. "Oh yes, just as unpredictable as men can be. I think we saw both today."

Your hands moved to his throat and your small palms wrapped around it, squeezing it a little. "I could strangle you now," you whispered as your grip got a bit stronger. "And I should do this, for a knife you pressed to my throat and that thrall but you are lucky enough that I love you."

He kept face straight, chucking darkly at your sudden outburst. "Oh, I think I need to play with thralls some more as it's keeping you going," he whispered and parted his lips, tracing the tip of his tongue along his perfectly shaped teeth.

"I need to visit our prisoner often too," you nodded with a smile. "I still wish to have him in my bed at least for once... As long as he is loyal to my man and his orders."

Ivar's hand moved to grab your hips strongly. "You're such a tease," he mumbled deeply.

You laughed and rolled your hips against him as your hands slipped to his shoulders. "But it gets you going. You love the idea of misbehaving. It makes you jealous and it leads you to anger," you leaned over to whisper against his lips. "And this, my love, leads you to your desire."

He couldn't pretend any longer; you kept him going. A short moan left his parted lips, and his eyes widened a little.

"Ah! There you go. You couldn't keep it up for too long, huh, Ivar?"

With a soft giggle you slipped off of his laps and placed yourself on the floor right between his legs. It was time to return the favor.

He looked down at you while letting a sad gasp out. His palm was placed to your cheek. "You're like no other woman I met in my short life. You make me lose my head, all for you."

You smiled at him sweetly, nuzzling to his palm. "Maybe because you didn't meet the right ones." Your hands moved down his chest and started to work on his pants so you could move them enough to free his member. "You are like no other men I met in my life. You are brave, ruthless and strong despite your flaws. Wonderful leader, lover and warrior."

He smiled. "Come to me, little one," he demanded in a husky voice.

You didn't like this exact order. All you wanted was to make him feel good but still you followed his order, placing yourself back on his laps. "Your wish is my command, my king."

He reached his hand down his body to guide his cock into your cunt. As he did, he let a loud moan and rolled head back, his hands slipped into your hips to hold you strongly.

A soft moan passed your own lips. Even when he worked you hard back in York, you still felt so fucking tight around him. "Fuck... Ivar," you gasped, grabbing the chair back.

He rested his forehead against your chest, letting out some deep gasps when you were slowly going up and down his shaft.

Your hands moved into his hair, scratching his scalp and keeping him as close to you as possible. Soon you started to move faster, moaning and pulling on his hair.

Ivar let out a long, deep grunt as you tugged on his hair. His hands moved down to rest on your ass as he squeezed the flesh hardly, moaning and brushing his lips against your chest.

When you realized he enjoys the hair pulling you let out a soft laugh and used it to pull his head back so you could kiss him deeply.

Ivar stole a kiss from your lips and parted his, gasping harder and harder as he chased his climax. Soon, he milked your pussy, grunting and groaning as he did.

You moaned his name out at the delightful feeling of his seed flooding your cunt. This triggered your own high and your walls tightened around him.

Ivar's arms wrapped tightly around your waist, his forehead rested against your collarbone, he gasped, a few drops of sweat rolled down his neck and forehead.

You smiled and wrapped your arms around him, just to keep him as close as only possible. Humming quietly, you started to play with his hair. "I love your hair, you should be called finehair," you whispered and giggled at your own joke.

He didn't reply as he was buried deep in his thoughts and he was only about to get off his peak. "Yeah," he managed to mumble softly, nuzzling to you.

You chuckled and massaged his scalp, letting him relax and calm down right in your arms after such a strong climax. "You okay there, Ivar?"

He raised his chin and looked you up right in the eyes. "Yes. Go to bed, I'll join you soon but I have one more thing to deal with."

You frowned softly, cupping his cheek. "Like what?"

"I need to speak to my brother. Nothing much. You stay here and warm bed for me."

You kissed his cheek and nodded. Slowly, you remove yourself from him, growling at the feeling of emptiness. "As you wish, love."

The bed was soft and warm thanks to all the furs. You got comfortable and nuzzled to the pillow. "Don't leave me alone for too long or I will have to go and pay our prisoner another visit."

Ivar shifted his floppy cock back into his pants, and growled playfully at your words. "Don't you be worried about that, I won't be long."

He took his crutches and slowly got up from the chair, throwing you a cocky smirk before leaving. Ivar headed to another hut, located almost at the docs. We stepped in without knocking, just like he had it in the habit of his.

Girl that was currently kissing Hvitser jumped in her place and gasped before looking right at Ivar.

It was one of your shield maidens, the one that took most interest in older Ragnarsson back at York.

Hvitserk sighed deeply, seeing his brother. "Brother, as much as I love your company. This is not the best moment," he said and the girl nuzzled to him, hiding from Ivar's eyes.

Ivar offered the girl a brief nod. "Mmm, you're fast like a lightning, brother," Ivar claimed and shifted a chair for himself, placing it right next to the bed. His blue eyes shifted to the girl. "Be a good, little thrall and leave us for a moment."

"I... I am not a thrall. I am Earl Wolf's shield maiden," girl said.

"Go, Asta. Wait outside, we won't talk for long," Hvitser said, patting her shoulder.

Soon the girl was gone and Hvitserk looked at his brother annoyed. "So! What was so important that you decided to interrupt me right now?"

"Hold your horses, brother, you'll have her pussy soon," Ivar frowned as he moved his glance to make sure the girl closed the door. "Remember our last talk? The talk about relationships and things?"

"Yes, I do but I am still not sure if we really did have this time. You are asking for advice when it comes to relationships and bed... Could be just my drunk dream," Hvitserk muttered, crossing arms over his chest. "What about it, Ivar?"

Younger brother used his crutch to poke his brother's thigh. "Can you not be a dick for once in your lifetime?," Ivar asked, frowning hardly, he ran his other hand through his messy hair. "It worked. And I need to know more of those."

"Ivar. I am glad that it worked but I really don't know what else to tell you," Hvitserk said with a shrug. "Tell me about her."

"Like, listen to this, brother," Ivar was excited at the single thought about things he performed with you. "The things you advised me in your drunken state worked, what I mean is that after eating her out she was more eager for other things. Let's not pretend, you're not only older but many women came and went through your bed, so I hate to admit it, but you're more experienced than I am."

Hvitserk laughed and nodded, rubbing his chin with pride. "Well, of course I am. Just... I can tell she likes it rough. So just go with that, Ivar. Listen to her."

Ivar tilted his head like a puppy while listening to the owner. "How can you say such a thing when you haven't seen her?"

"Then why do you ask me what to do when I haven't seen her in action?," Hvitserk asked with a roll of his eyes. "Listen. Every woman is different, you just need to observe and follow your intent or heart if you are really in love... And have heart."

Ivar didn't comment on his brother's words, he only nodded and got up from his spot. He patted Hvitserk's cheek. "Thanks. You can be useful from time to time."

Asta watched Ivar left the hut and immediately went back inside to join Hvitserk.

Ivar took some time to enjoy himself in the cold air. He walked slowly back to the hut Harald had let him stay in. Door was open so he walked in.

You were already asleep, covered with furs.

Ivar took the sight in, smiling to himself, feeling like his heart was melting for the sweetness overload. He put the crutches on the floor quietly, he got undressed and crawled to the bed. As carefully as it was possible he got on and spooned you from behind.

The following week was filled with preparations for a great battle. Everything had to be just right.

The days were filled with planning and training with your people, making sure they all are ready for the upcoming battle.

Of course whenever you found time you liked to bother the Bishop who actually was free now and somehow agreed to fight on your sides of the conflict.

You screamed out Ivar's name as you both reached your climaxes. The remarkable feeling of his seed filling you because some kind of fixation for yours. You seeked it every night and he was happy and eager to satisfy your common needs.

Humming quietly you lay down on his chest and started to trace random patterns on his chest. "It's tomorrow. I can't wait to leave this place and set a camp... And get ready for the battle," You growled playfully.

Ivar's arm was wrapped loosely around your waist, his fingertips rubbing little circles on your belly as he held you close. "Don't be scared, Y/N, the seer predicted we'll win the battle easily," Ivar assured you and kissed the top of your head. "There's no need to be worried, dear. It's just a formality."

You laughed and looked at him with a cocky smile. "Me? Scared? You're joking! I am more than ready to fight, our last battle in York was so much fun! I craved more since that day."

He looked down at you and pecked your lips briefly. "I would never say you're more bloodthirsty than I am."

You giggled against his lips before kissing that one sensitive spot on his neck. "Is that bad? Is some... Boring, dress wearing, royal lady would be better for you? You dont like me the way I am?”

He moaned at the touch of your lips on the most sensitive spot on his neck; his grasp on your waist tightened. "You're perfect just the way you are."

"Let's get some sleep, love. We need to be rested for tomorrow." You kissed his cheek and then nuzzled to his chest, closing your eyes. Soon, you drifted into slumber.

Travel was exciting.

Everyone was ready for that great fight so were you.

To be honest you couldn't wait, fighting and then ruling by Ivar's was your dream ever since you two clicked just perfectly back in York.

In the camp as well as during negotiation with Lagherta and his brothers you stood there proudly, being by his side and supporting his action.

You fought for him just like you did in York, doing your best to tip the scales of victory on your side.

The battle was long and of course there was a lot of death and suffering.

Just like Ivar assured you that one night, you won. Kattegat was yours and you couldn't be more happy.

The Great Hall opened its door for the new king.

Ivar entered the familiar chambers for the first time since months. He felt like the very important part of his childhood was restored to normality.

People weren't truly keen on the change on the throne, but they could do nothing about it.

Ivar's royal warriors took care of those who didn't want to hail the king. Ivar took a place at the throne that once belonged to his father.

You laughed loudly walking in with Hvitserk and King Harald close behind you, all of you bathed in blood of your enemies.

"You did it Ivar, you won your home back. I need to say I am jealous now!” Harald joked.

You walked around, inspecting the inside of the Great Hall. You already loved the place.

"Of course he did. How could you doubt him."

Saying this you walked closer to your lover and sat on the throne right beside him.

Ivar offered you a smirk, yet tilted his head. "Y/N, what do you think you're doing?"

"Well, I am getting comfortable in my throne, love?," You answered, returning the smirk. "Just as we talked in York. We will be the most powerful couple in the world."

He rolled a little in his place, so he leaned his forearms against armrest. "We? A couple? We were never a couple, sweetheart. I just needed your troops."

You frowned deeply, looking into those beautiful blue eyes you so loved. "Excuse me... But. Your promises, the nights we spend together. Our plans for the future."

He laughed loudly, he didn't really pay attention to the fact there were people in the chamber. "Darling, I would never say you're so silly. You wanted to be fucked so I provided that to you. I just had to make sure you won't change your mind in the day before the battle. Now, get off the throne, it's not yours. You can go back to your sweet, lovely settlement. You're my vassal from now on, I expect you to pay 500 gold pieces every year. If you won't follow, I'll have to flatten your little place to the ground."

You got up from the throne, your eyes never leaving him. How could he do this to you? You shared so much from the past to the future. Did he really lie to you... Why it hurt more than the wounds you suffered during the battle. "Is this some kind of a cruel joke? Because if it is, then better stop, Ivar."

"Do I look like I am joking?," He asked, the smile vanishing from his face, leaving a cold grimace and raised eyebrow as he glanced at you. "Get out of my face."

You couldn't believe it. All the nights you shared, sweet words, the love and dreams... It all was his way of taming you. His way of making sure you will follow him until he achieves his goals. Your heart broke like a thin ice under a pressure. "You are a terrible man, Ivar the Boneless. Ragnar is ashamed of such a son. One that can't keep a promise and can't even avenge his mother fully. I will dance the day you die!” You didn't mean any of those words, it was the pain speaking through your lips. Just like he wanted, you turned around and left the Great Hall.

Hvitserk threw his brother had a cold glance and followed you. "Stop, Y/N! Earl, stop!"

Meantime Harald stormed to the freshly announced king. "What the hell are you doing, Ivar? She is a great warrior, she brought a lot of people, you can't simply send her away and push her off our common matter."

"Our? Mine. Nothing is ours, everything is mine now," Ivar chuckled darkly. "Go on, you can take her. She's nothing but a puppet."

You stopped and pulled out your sword, pointing it right at older Ragnarsson. Your face looked serious but the tears rising in your eyes were visible. "What do you want, Ragnarsson? Came to tell me how stupid I am for trusting your brother?” You growled loudly.

"I had no idea what he was planning for all that time," Hvitserk instinctively raised hand up in the air, showing you he was unarmed. "Don't leave, I bet it can't be discussed and explained."

"Discussed? Explained?! What can be, Hvitserk?! He used my love, my feelings for him to get the troops for his plans," You said, desperately trying to hold your tears. "I wanted to stay here for him but I won't be a rug he can use and throw away as soon as he is done."

"Stop it, you can't leave! You're the only person who still keeps him on the straight and narrow!"

"HOW I DO THAT?!," You yelled as loud as your lungs let you, slowly lowering your sword as your body became too weak suddenly. All the emotions you felt and the post battle injury mixed together now.

"He threw me away as soon as my help became useless for him. I was never needed, coming to York was the biggest mistake of my life."

"Come," not being sure whether it was proper to do, Hvitserk wrapped arms around your figure, offering you his shoulder to lean on. "Take me with you then," Hvitserk asked openly. "I don't want to stay by his side, he's not a sane person. Please. I'll do whatever you order."

You nuzzled to his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him. All you needed now was some kind of closeness, of course you wished it was Ivar but he didn't care any longer. You started to cry into his shoulder, pawing at his back in an attempt to grab something in your hand.

"Now, move," he reminded you. "Let's not wait for him to change his mind and order his hellhounds to burn us alive."

Oldest Ragnarsson led you to the stable where your horse ate hay. He helped you hop on the animal. You sighed deeply, getting comfortable in the saddle. Rubbing your eyes you looked at him. "Thankfully my men are ready to go too," You said, grabbing the reins. "Let's leave him with his wonderful kingdom. Harald can deal with him."

"I don't think he is going to stay either," Hvitserk pulled his horse out of the box and got on his stallion's back.

"I have no idea who would want to stay with him now. Kattegat will burn under his lead," You muttered as your horse moved.

You quickly collected your remaining troops and then you all were on the way home. "Hvitserk?"

Hvitserk, whose horse galloped right behind yours, lined up with you. "Yes?"

"Don't you regret it? Leaving your own youngest and well... Creppled brother? For a woman who broke your nose?," You asked, looking at him.

"No," he replied hardly, being sure of his words. "I was afraid of my dear life. It was the most reasonable decision I've made in my lifetime."

"Let's hope you will feel much better in my home," you told him with a soft smile.

The trip took three day but it was worth it.

Your settlement made you feel better just because you were back home but there was still this void, somewhere inside of you. It felt even worse when you how your warriors greeted their families. Their smiles made you wish you could feel something like this.

Of course, people were happy to see their Earl and you returned to happiness but it wasn't the same.

You led Hvitserk into the Great Hall and as soon as you entered a big wolf's fur was placed on your shoulders, the hood that was made out of the wolf's head was pulled on your head. You laughed and looked at Hvitserk.

Hvitserk didn't think he could be greeted so warmly anywhere. Your people offered him not only furs and good words but also a roof over his head.

You sat on your throne and smiled, looking at your people. Tears will have to wait until you close the door to your room, now it was time to be Earl. "My friends, my warriors, my people. I can't describe how happy I am that God blessed me and our warriors with the chance of returning home," You said loudly and got up. "We lost many but many returned. Tomorrow there will be a feast to welcome the one that returned and honor the one that did not. I also want to introduce my special guest."

Hvitserk, as much as he was against the idea, walked closer to you, offering you a nod.

"This is Hvitserk. Son of Ragnar. Welcome him and be treated as your own because as long as he wants to stay with us. He is a part of our pack," You informed and your people cheered.

Hvitserk cleared his throat. "Thank you, dear Earl. Thank you, dear people. I assure you that I'll protect this settlement until the very last blood drop."

You gave him a sad smile. "You will stay here. There is one more room in Great Hall that wasn't used for years. I will order my thralls to prepare it."

Hvitserk bowed his head. "This is too much, my lady. I'll be fine just by staying among your people. I will stay at the edge of the city."

"I don't ask you as a Earl. I ask you as a friend, I want you to stay here. You will have days to get along with my people," You explained.

Hvitserk didn't complain anymore. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me."

Evening finally came and this one felt weird.

Most nights you shared with Ivar and you missed him and his body.

Letting out a deep sigh you get out of the bath and continue with getting ready for the bed. You put on a soft nightdress and brushed your hair. It felt different.

Since you joined Ivar back at York you didn't really have a chance to clean yourself properly. Suddenly you decided to visit Hvitserk so you got up from your bed and went to his room.

You knocked on the door, waiting for a permission to enter. Maybe he already had some girl over.

"Come in."

Hvitserk was sitting on the floor, his legs crossed and elbows propped on knees as he was meditating. He offered you a nod. "Earl Y/N. What have I done that you honor me with a visit? Do you need my help?"

You sat on the floor next to him and chuckled. "Don't start with all that Earl thing, Hvitserk. I am the same Y/N that broke your nose. No need to use my title."

"Don't need to remind me about the nose all the time," he offered you a little too cocky smirk.

"Just trying to remind you that I am no one special. Sorry" You sighed. "And well... I am here because. I felt lonely."

"Being lonely doesn't mean being sad, yet I hear sadness in your tone and see it in your manner."

You raised your eyebrow. "How being lonely doesn't mean being sad?," Shaking your head you shrugged.

"I just used to spend the night with your brother. It felt good, I felt happy... Loved," You already could feel tears in your eyes.

"Don't cry. You can't change him. He's a spoiled brat who doesn't care about people's feelings. You'll find yourself a man anytime soon, just look at you. Young, beautiful, in charge. All men are losing head for you already."

You sighed and wiped your eyes with a short laugh.

"You are losing head for me as well? Who would want a woman with a face like mine. I should cry for how stupid I was to trust Ivar's love."

"It was not stupidity, what you experienced is used to be called love," he smiled softly.

"Was... Was it too much to ask for? To be loved for once in my life?," You asked, looking at him. "Father, left me to die. Mother didn't care enough to protect you. Brother tried to kill me... Man I loved..." You couldn't finish your sentence.

"You're young, you have your entire life lying ahead. You'll fall in love not once, not twice. The pain is temporary, it will pass as soon as you'll sign a truce with yourself."

"I am young with a face eaten by a wolf," you muttered. "I... I have a stupid question."

"No question is stupid if you think about it."

"Can I stay here tonight? With you?,” you asked. "I don't think I can sleep alone... Not today at least."

"Of course. You provided me with a room with a bed for two. But you can take it full."

"I don't want to take it all. I want to share it with you... I don't want to be alone tonight, Hvitserk."

"Your wish is my command," he replied with a little smile.

You smiled and then climbed to bed. Letting out a sigh you nuzzled to the pillow and wrapped fur around yourself.

Hvitserk spent a few more moments meditating. After that he went to wash his face and neck with cold water. The he slipped into bed with you

"Thank you for that. I need to look pathetic... I am the Earl and I act like a child," you said cringing at your own action.

"Don't judge yourself. I don't mind it. I offered you that I can be a shoulder you can lean in."

"Yes, you did," you nodded and moved closer to nuzzle him. "And I am going to use it tonight."

He straightened his arm to make a room for you. As you put your head to his chest, he lightly wrapped arm around your waist.

You got comfortable and hummed quietly, closing your eyes. He was arm and soft, you just wished it was Ivar who would really hug you.

Hvitserk used his other hand to stroke your cheek. "Shhhh, you're going to get through this for you're the strongest woman I saw."

[candycityy]

Hii, Candy! For the Drabble Challenge, 12 and 19 😊

(You can also read this on AO3!)

Newlywed bliss, Levi decides, is sort of like a bubble. Or a vacuum, pick your metaphor.

You get so caught up in the sheer wonder of the whole situation, of shared touches and delirious smiles and and waking up with the love of your life sprawled unglamourously beside you, open-mouthed and drooling and just thoroughly adorable, and your heart swells and you can't think and you forget that the world hasn't stopped spinning on its axis for you and you alone.

In other words, Levi pleads insanity.

So when Petra walks into the drawing room one day with a frozen look on her face, one that's equal parts terror and bewilderment and something else that he can't quite discern, he doesn't know what to think. And then she says it.

"Levi," she says, "I'm pregnant."

Just two words, and his world is upended. He think Petra says something after, but he doesn't hear her; blood roars in his ears, his breath is stuck in his throat, and for the first time in his life, he finds himself shocked into utter silence.

And he realises, that third emotion in her face that he hadn't recognised earlier: it's happiness. A wild, fierce joy, a bewildered and terrified joy, but a joy nonetheless.

His head spins, and he feels, incomprehensibly, the urge to lie down. "Pregnant," he echoes. His voice is hoarse, ragged. "Petra, that's..."

He trails off. He doesn't know what to say. Incredible? Ridiculous? Impossible? Petra seems to recognise the tumult in his thoughts, though, because her expression shifts into a kind of defensive stubborness. As if by instinct, her arms curl over her still-flat abdomen, protective.

"Look," she begins, "I know we hadn't planned on this so early, but if you're thinking of—"

"No," he says. His voice is harsh, decisive, and he takes a small step towards her. "I'm not. Petra, I'm sorry, I was just...surprised. I wouldn't...ask you to hurt it. I would never."

She swallows. Her gaze searching, tentative. "Then...you're okay? You're not mad? Or upset?"

"I don't know how I feel," he says honestly. "I don't know shit about being a parent. Maybe I'll screw it all up, I don't know that either. And I'll be real, this is fucking terrifying." Petra laughs. The sound is like broken glass.

"But," he takes a step towards her, "I know I'll try my damned hardest to protect it. Give it a good life. I mean..." His eyes never move away from her stomach. "It's our baby."

His voice cracks on the two words, and that's all she needs. She almost falls into him, sobbing and laughing all at the same time. "Levi, I'm so scared," she whispers. She sounds dreamy, incredulous; enchanted. "A baby. We made a baby."

Levi's never been sure of anything; his life has been a maze of choice, of possibilities, of maybes and what-ifs. But as he stares down at Petra, her arms still wrapped around her middle, he feels a surge of something fierce and unfamiliar in his chest, something almost painful in its acuteness, and he knows, without a doubt: he would die for this stirring of life that drifts, still blind to the world, in his wife's womb.

==

The first time he tells someone, it's entirely by accident.

They're all hanging out in the lounge, like most nights; they haven't told Erwin, and Petra reckons it's better to wait a little, just in case. Eld and Auruo are bickering away as usual, and somehow, the topic turns to one of their colleagues, who recently put in a request to switch to the Garrison after his wife became pregnant.

"I mean, I get why," Eld says, his lip curling, "I just don't get how. Sitting around on the walls, getting drunk and playing cards all day...I'll never understand."

"Your fiancée might like that, though, wouldn't she," Auruo taunts. The other man rolls his eyes.

"Aria knows I'll never leave the Survey Corps. I plan to live till the ripe old age of seventy and die in a blaze of glory as Supreme Commander, thank you very much."

"Supreme Commander isn't even a title, you ass," Gunther goes from across the room, looking up from his book. "But pregnancy...that's a whole lot of responsibility, isn't it? How do you just go off and risk your life every day, with a kid waiting at home for you?"

Levi's stomach churns suddenly, his dinner threatening to make a reappearance, and his face suddenly feels very hot. He fights to keep his expression carefully blank, but Petra's eyes catch his, narrowing with concern.

"And that's how you ruin a life. Congratulations," Auruo concludes wisely.

"Hey," Petra retorts sharply, "that's not true. Being a dad doesn't mean your life ends, you know. You can still be a soldier, and fight, and everything."

Auruo leers at her. "It's different for you, Pet. Mothers have options...but fathers, they gotta provide for their families, woman. Dying...leaving your wife and kid to fend for themselves...it's not done." Eld and Gunther nod agreement, and Petra makes a face, muttering something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like, 'sexist cows'.

Levi doesn't know what possesses him in that instant. His throat is dry, and he's so lightheaded he feels numb, almost disembodied. He stands up abruptly, and announces, "Petra and I are expecting."

The silence that follows is palpable, thick enough to choke on. He can feel Petra's eyes as Auruo begins to sputter apologies and retractions—"I only meant—but of course, you wouldn't die and leave your kid alone, captain! You're humanity's strongest, after all! You'd never..."

He's still stammering away when Levi turns on his heel without a word, and walks out of the room.

==

The candle in his room has melted into a stump of wax when Petra finds him, later that night.

"Hey," she says softly. She's changed into her nightgown, and her hair, still damp from the showers, tumbles into the hollow of her collarbone. In the dim light of the candle, she looks pale and fragile; hollowed cheekbones, shadowed eyes.

Something deep in his chest wrenches, and he opens his mouth, only to find that no words come out. But she seems to understand his expression; of course she does, she always does.

She walks over to the window, where he stands, staring out of the window, and wraps her arms around his back. They're so nearly the same height that it's a comfortable position for them, her face pressed into his shoulder, her hair brushing the curve of his cheek. They stay there for a few moments in a comfortable silence, just relishing in the wordless companionship.

Petra isn't a patient person by nature. But by now, she knows him; knows how the thoughts whirl insistently in his mind at the height of his emotion, unwilling to settle into the dust. So she waits, her warm breath reassuring on his neck, her heartbeat strong against his back.

He finally exhales. "Do you think they were right?" he asks. The words sound unnaturally loud in the silence of the night. When she doesn't reply immediately, he goes on, "I could...you know. I could join the Garrison, too, or the Military Police. Or leave the military. I could do other things. Erwin would understand, he'd help—"

"No." The word cuts through the room. Gently but firmly, Petra turns him around to face her. The moonlight casts her in silver, turning her into something luminous, ethereal—almost otherworldly.

"Levi, I love you more than anything in this stupid world." Her expression is fierce, intent. "And I won't let you do that. You belong here, in the Survey Corps. And I do, too."

"But just say—"

"I'm not fragile, Levi," she shoots back, her eyes burning with a familiar fire. "Sure, maybe I'm not strong the way you are, but I'm strong enough. I'm not saying I'd be okay if you died—of course I wouldn't—but I'd survive, and I'd keep our child alive, too. And I believe you'd do the same."

Something breaks in him, then, like the shattering of a glass, and he looks up. Petra is glaring at him with those burning eyes, and in that moment, she's so alive and beautiful, the love of his life, the mother of his unborn child. The realisation makes him stagger. He's never felt so complete; he's never had so much to lose.

Feeling as though the weight of the world sits on his shoulders, he nods.

Petra's answering smile is a promise, golden and honeyed and full of light. She draws him in tighter.

"Trust me," she whispers. Her presence is warm, solid, comforting. "Everything will be all right."

Drabble challenge!

[quinintheclouds]

YES YES YES YES YES

Spoilers for RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 6

THAT WAS SO MUCH MORE THAN I HAD EVEN LET MYSELF HOPE FOR

It really looks like this is the Volume the writers realized how many answers we’ve needed for years and years, and is answering them now. I wish it’d come sooner, of course, but since they can’t go back and fix the pacing or writing, I’m really impressed and optimistic about how Volume 8 is going!

BUT MORE SPECIFICALLY

I would like to GUSH about how they handled the Oscar and Ozpin scenes. We have needed, nay, BEGGED for this sort of development, and it’s finally here. There’s too much I want to rave about so bullet point time! 

[Note: I love the farmboy so this wound up longer than expected -- have a read more for your scrolling convenience -- TL;DR at the end]

We got confirmation that Ozpin has been pleading with Oscar to let him take over so he can burden the pain and torture instead. Oscar is the one refusing, choosing to take it himself because he knows Salem and Hazel will be much harsher on Oz. I thought that was the case, but I’m so glad they addressed it because otherwise we’d be wondering why Oz hasn’t offered. It does make me wonder, is Oz still able to take control without asking? Oscar was able to fight it in vol 6, and he’s come a long way.

Hazel is holding back -- at least, Oscar says he can tell that he is. This would keep in line with the battle at Haven, when Hazel was suspiciously playing defense and stalling by letting Ozpin monologue, then letting Oscar give a little protagonist speech... I mean, it sure doesn’t LOOK like he’s holding back. Look at this kid:

moving on before I cry,

Ozpin suggests he take over and try to escape.

Oscar says no, he has a better idea. “This is our chance.”

Oz: “Hm. Maybe you’ve taken one too many hits.” I like this for two reasons: one, because it gives us a taste of the ol’ lighthearted Ozpin humor we’ve missed since he’s been gone, and two, because it shows that he and Oscar think differently. They have different thought processes, ideas, etc. Oz didn’t immediately know what Oscar was planning.

Oscar explains that Salem can’t take on everyone at once, and thus has been sending people to infiltrate all of remnant first, to attack from within. 

I LOVE that they had Oscar come up with this, because it is so in line with his character development in Volume 7. Not to mention how in volume 6 he was the one to figure out how to defeat Cordovin’s mecha. It’s cool to see him as a strategist, because while he’s a sweet kid from the middle of nowhere, he’s proven to be really smart and quick.

Plus, this gives him agency. People wanted Ozpin to return and save Oscar, but this is so, so much better. Oscar’s idea, Oscar’s choice, and Oz gets right on board. They’re agreeing to work together, despite their unresolved conflict. “Ozma learned the importance of living with the souls with which he’d been paired.”

AND THEN, A MOMENT I CANNOT THANK RT ENOUGH FOR:

The captions don’t show it, but Oscar AND Ozpin said this in unison. Now, this and the few seconds that follow were a rollercoaster of emotions. Let’s break it down:

When they said this together, I was positively GIDDY with excitement: they’re leaning into the “like-minded souls” thing and calling attention to the situation! Surely this must be a sign that Oscar and Ozpin will indeed both exist when their souls are one, as they are both equally parts of the combination of lives that is Ozma. Well, maybe not equally (yet?). 

Then, my elation was replaced with dread. What if this was actually an indication of them “merging” in the way some of the FNDM interpret it will go, rather than how I think it does? Or what if that’s not what RT is doing, but what if the FNDM takes it as a sign Ozpin is taking over?? I can’t last the whole break without knowing!

AND THEN!!! Ugh, this made me so relieved. Ozpin says, in a slightly amused tone of voice with a trace of a laugh, “We certainly are similar, you and I.” YESSSSS more references to them being like-minded souls!! But still having differences!! 

“Maybe we have been presented with an opportunity.” I’m really glad they went the route where Oscar is changing Ozpin’s mind on things. Oz no longer thinks he knows best, and is allowing Oscar to come into his own. Now he’s seeing how far Oscar’s come and the person he is.

Related note: The commentary for the vol 7 finale said that it was Oscar’s speeches to Ironwood about fear and trust that made Oz realize he’s been keeping secrets and hiding out of fear, and inspired him to come back. This is so promising for Oscar’s character going forward.

[Side note: Would love more info on what Oscar meant in volume 7 when he said “these memories... you’re back, aren’t you?” because? Is he just referring to the scenes with things like how he talked about Atlas’ history as if he were there, or does he have access to Oz’s memories now? 2 chapters ago we saw that he doesn’t yet know the location of the Beacon Relic. So unless he was lying really well, he doesn’t have ALL the memories yet. So which ones does he have? RT EXPLAIN]

Next,

I would like to call attention to the fact that Oscar smiled here. After Ozpin said they were similar, I was worried Oscar would react the way he has in the past: sad and conflicted about his identity, worried he’s becoming less of himself. But no. Like we saw in Volume 7, THIS is who Oscar Pine is. His development was his own, and we get to see that when Ozpin returned because Oscar had made him rethink his choices. Oscar Pine is more himself now than he’s been at any other point in the series. 

It’s really brilliant how the writers have used these last 2 volumes to show that Penny, the robot, is one of the most human characters on the show; and Oscar, the boy cursed to death and rebirth with a soul that was not his own, is one of the most individualistic ones. It’s just really cool how they’re playing with our expectations of the characters. (They’re doing great with Salem, too!)

[Side note: Penny’s soul/aura was given to her by Pietro, and they still have distinct personalities and identities. It’s possible that’s a parallel to Oscar’s situation, but I do feel the merge’s completion will result in one remaining soul/identity - just not a “taking over” situation]

Okay, that’s the last of that rollercoaster I mentioned. 

Time to get on a new one!

At long last, this episode finally gave us something we haven’t had since chapter 4 of volume SIX*:

*(I am not counting the one second of "Oscar." *glowy eyes* *Oscar blinks and is back in control* in the vol 7 finale)

OZPIN IS BACK!!!!

First, HELL YES I WANTED THIS TO HAPPEN!!!

Second, wow, they can change really quickly now. At first it took effort and was super visible, then just shook Oscar up a bit with the glowy eyes, and now it seems almost effortless, seamless. The eyes glow and the transition is smooth. I like it.

We didn’t get to hear Oscar’s thoughts after Oz said “Oscar, please,” begging him again to let him take control. So we don’t know whether Oscar allowed it out of pain, exhaustion, their plan, or a decision to trust Oz and work together here. Alternatively, Ozpin may have simply taken over of his own accord. I wish the writers would give us more insight to Oscar’s thoughts, because those scenes already have him talking inside/to his own head, so leaving some of his thoughts out can seem intentional and open-ended, which could mean more dragging out answers, but I think this was fine. Not the worst case of this by far lol

WHEN! HE! SPOKE!

I was hoping for this with all my heart. Over the course of volume 7 in particular, we saw Oscar’s voice, mannerisms, and speech patters start to resemble Ozpin’s. However, he still sounds and feels like Oscar. Going back to Volume 5, heck, even Volume 6 (which is when we last saw Ozpin in control), the voice of Ozpin speaking through Oscar is similar, but distinctly different from how Oscar’s speaking now. So I’ve been theorizing and hoping, and it CAME TRUE! Ozpin sounds more like Oscar now, while still managing to clearly be Ozpin.

Right from the first “Hello,” it was noticeable. It sounded almost like Oscar. I know it’s the same voice actor when one of them is in control (same body, same vocal cords), but that just makes it even more impressive. This is the first time we’ve heard Ozpin’s voice speaking through Oscar since QRWBY yelled at him in the snow in vol 6. And I was NOT disappointed.

“Why do you follow her?” I’ll keep saying it, but he sounds so much like Oscar confronting Ironwood. 

“I know how you see me. But her? Look at what she does, how is she the answer, why not stop her??” This gives me serious deja vu to Oscar’s speech towards Hazel in the Battle of Haven (and his speech towards Ironwood in v7′s finale). That speech had given Hazel pause then, and this one does as well, now. Ozpin sounds angrier, though, more aware of just how far gone these people are, but knowing they can change.

Hazel calls Ozpin out for the same thing the FNDM has been, and honestly, it’s been a long time coming. Hazel’s motivations are extremely misguided, Oscar was right to stand up for Oz/Gretchen at Haven, and the show really needed to reinforce the Ozpin-isn’t-bad-actually thing. Now it’s all out in the open. But it’s Ozpin’s response to this that elevated this scene even more:

That’s it. Ozma has spent countless lives fighting a war that may be impossible to win. But if no one tries, no one will survive. The gods will destroy all of Remnant. Still, every single lifetime, he chooses to try. Like Oscar said in volume 5 (about Hazel’s sister but writing-wise also kinda about Pyrrha), “She made a choice! A choice to put others before herself. So do I.” Like-minded souls.

AND THIS!!! Good gods I’m glad he said this. The show went way too long before anyone even questioned the “You can’t” answer from Jinn. Nora mentioned it in passing earlier, which I liked a lot (though this really should’ve been discussed in volume 6, but better late than never). But here? We see that Oz never gave up, never planned on losing, not sending people to a battle he “knows they can’t win.” While Salem is immortal, she is not infallible. Not even the gods were. Salem can be fought. Even Hazel has a moment of hesitation, perhaps even realization, before Salem enters.

Salem manipulates Cinder, offering her the maiden powers she wants so badly, and Ozpin interjects. “You’ll only be helping her bring about the end, for all of you!”

I just wanted to show these shots because again, just as we’ve seen Oscar’s mannerisms become increasingly similar to Ozpin’s, now that he’s back, we get to see the other way around. Look at the surprise and fear on his face. Look at how he widens his eyes and raises his eyebrows instead of narrowing/furrowing them now. Listen to the sounds he makes when tortured or thrown about. Listen to the desperation and earnest passion held in his pleas. He’s no longer hiding -- he’s being honest with the people who scare him most, and truly trying to help them see the light. 

[Side note: Cinder is not showing remorse in this scene, but I wonder how she’d react to Oscar, not Ozpin, being tortured. In the same episode, we have Cinder being tortured with a shock collar, AND we have Oscar decide to try to appeal to the humanity left in these villains. Last time we saw Oscar, Salem was torturing him with intense, almost electric magic. She might not care, but I wonder...]

ANYWAY I’m done for now. Have a TL;DR that wound up being long too

TL;DR: 

Basically, I’m super happy with the writers for the detail put into these scenes: 

they confirmed Oz has been begging to take over and bear the torture instead

had Oscar come up with an idea himself instead of getting rescued or immediately escaping

had Oscar view his dire situation as an opportunity, reminding us of his optimism and capabilities as a strategist

had Ozpin not know what Oscar’s plan was before he explained it (this might change as the souls become one, but it at least shows they think differently)

Oscar’s plan to appeal to the villains’ humanity and infiltrate Salem’s forces from within lining up with his volume 7 character development

had Oz trust Oscar and put his faith in him, which is progress for Oz

Oz and Oscar speaking in unison and agreeing to work together

Ozpin’s comment about them being similar, not the same

had Ozpin take control to speak to Hazel

Ozpin’s speech to Hazel and Cinder as parallels to Oscar’s speeches to Hazel and Ironwood, which CRWBY said were the reason Oz realized his secrecy is out of fear of trust, and Oscar’s points are what inspired him to come back.

Ozpin sounding and acting more like Oscar just like we’ve seen happen the other way around (though with Oscar, he’s holding true to his own ideas/morals, with Oz meeting him there)

established hope for some of our villains to defect, setting it in motion.

[medusinestories]

Today is Two For One because these two eps pretty much follow onto each other in terms of storylines and themes etc.

Black Sails V and VI (s1 eps 05-06)

- A big plot point in these two episodes is Billy mistrusting and investigating Flint. It starts with Flint approaching Billy and claiming he wants an “honest” conversation with him (note that he’s had time to think about what he’ll say to Billy, coming back to my previous comment about how Flint does better at persuasion when he has time to script things). Flint explains that you can’t ever be entirely truthful to a crew because if you explain any risk of failure they’ll be demoralised. He also talks very briefly about Miranda, portraying her as a “nice Puritan woman” who likes books. When Billy asks if this is really true, Flint just gives him That Wink. Billy spends the episode wavering between trying to support both Flint and protect the crew, clearly conflicted. This feeling intensifies when Logan asks whether Flint will give up trying to get the guns even if the situation becomes extremely dangerous, and Billy can see that Flint is risking the lives of men to get at the guns and knows what he did on the Maria Aleyne. The last straw is the discovery of Miranda’s letter and the realisation that she didn’t prevent Guthrie from betraying them like she was supposed to. Gates dismisses Billy’s doubts and refuses to get into it, mostly in a stategic move, knowing that Flint is the only one who can get them through this battle, and that they all need to obey him in this moment.

- Speaking of battles, this is the first prolonged sea battle we get to see, and the first time that Flint is given a really worthy opponent in the character of Bryson. Bryson is extremely clever and uses both sailing and defense/siege/booby-trap strategies that make taking the Andromache practically impossible to take. Flint shows a lot of resourcefulness in response: he seems to know exactly how much his ship can take and how to handle it (in spite of DeGroot’s warnings, which end up being unfounded for once) and hammers out a good (if dangerous) strategy to board the ship. However, this isn’t enough to outwit Bryson, who’s extremely well prepared for a siege if he gets boarded and has the Scarborough already heading their way. In fact if the slaves in the hold hadn’t helped the pirates, I doubt Flint would have had to leave without the guns. Even when he’s dying, Bryson still attempts to blow his ship up. In fact, his explosive booby trap has a real impact on what happens in the end of episode 6.

- It’s interesting to watch Dufresne in his first battle. He’s clearly meant for us to identify with, as the “nerd” on the ship who’s never seen battle. Following him allows us to see the faces of a lot of crew members, to feel the tension and fear before boarding the other ship, the desperation of the battle, and... okay I’m not sure just anyone would go feral like Dufresne does and rip someone’s throat out. This is definitely a turning point in Dufresne’s character.

- Something new in Billy’s character that he is shown lying to Dufresne to reassure him before the battle, using exactly the technique Flint mentioned earlier. First he tried telling Dufresne that guns only go off half the time - not at all reassuring. Then he tells Dufresne that sailors on their crew never die in their first battle. Only after the battle, does Dufresne realise that what Billy told him isn’t true - and tells Billy that he appreciates the lie. Does this change Billy’s point of view on lying? Is lying all right, for a good cause?

- In the meantime, Eleanor is saddled with Silver. I absolutely love this plot line and wish these two had worked together some more, because they’re hilarious. Silver knows that Eleanor’s angry with him and finally gets to find out that it’s because he involved Max in his scheme, but he flatly refuses taking any responsibility for that, saying it was Max’s choice (which it was). Later, when the angry pirates are turning into a mob, Silver is clearly getting anxious and Eleanor pretending not to be, he says: "if you're pretending to remain unconcerned for my peace of mind, please don't", a line mirrored in S2, where Flint openly admits to Silver that he’s “appearing unconcerned” as a strategy (and thus establishing the Flint/Eleanor parallel). Finally, Silver confronts Eleanor about the danger of not appeasing the mob by letting Vane operate out of Nassau again; she asks him to convince her why she should - and he actually does. It takes two hours, but he actually gets through to her. In this conversation, he utters the classic line “guilt is natural; it also goes away, if you let it”. Clearly he’s had to make some nasty choices for his survival, and likely he has quite a personal experience of mobs, too.

- Richard Guthrie continues to be one of the biggest assholes of the show. In these two episodes he 1) betrayed Mr Scott by telling Bryson to kidnap him and sell him as a slave, 2) announcing that he’s liquidating his holdings in Nassau without warning Eleanor and saddling her with the angry mob, 3) shamelessly revealing to Eleanor how he betrayed her and why, disregarding the fact that she’s made Nassau what it is over the last few years, 4) is worming his way into Mr Underhill’s good books and got himself a cosy and very safe place to live while all hell breaks loose in Nassau.

- Speaking of Mr Scott, he ends up amongst the slaves in Bryson’s ship and appears somewhat disdainful towards them, mostly because he doesn’t want to knows the realities of what would happen to them if they joined the pirates (some would still be sold as slaves). Eme believes that they should still seize their chance for freedom, but Mr Scott won’t help the pirates get these weapons, which “are dangerous to someone I love". This of course is understood as being Eleanor, but it also easily be interpreted as the Maroon Queen/Madi in light of S3. In fact, it makes much more sense that he is resisting the Urca plan to protect them/his community than because he’s worried that Eleanor will be killed. Eme counters that he’ll never see this person again, which still isn’t quite enough to break his resolve. Finally, once Mr Scott has changed his mind and helped free the slaves and ended up helping Flint, he has a conversation with him. Flint decides not to tell the crew of Mr Scott's betrayal, because he’d rather prove Mr Scott wrong re: making Nassau into more than it currently is.

- Anne’s inability to bear the violence done to Max comes to a head in these episodes. First she dismisses Mrs Mapleton who’s not being all too gentle while “tending” to Max, and the brief talk between Max and Anne seems to reinforce Anne’s resolve to stop Hamund (looked him up) (but did they really need to bond while Anne pushes a phallic instrument into Max’s cervix after lubing it up? there’s clear sexual innuendo in the way it’s filmed and it’s pretty inappropriate). It’s only when Rackham sees Anne defending the entrance to Max’s tent and can’t believe that Anne would put herself in danger over “a fucking whore”, that it finally dawns on him that Anne is horrified with this situation (something he could have guessed considering the circumstances in which he met Anne). Once Max is freed and thanks Anne, Anne tells her that she didn’t do it for Max. Which is probably not completely true, but again what we know of Anne’s past also means that she didn’t want to see any woman treated that way.

- The theme of men siding together and not listening to women comes up several times in these two episodes. Guthrie says that he persuaded Mr Scott to betray Eleanor because “we talked like men and he saw reason”. The “like men” suggests that men support each other’s decisions, especially to resist a woman’s folly. The Consortium refuses to listen to Eleanor unless a respected captain, in this case Hornigold, also backs it. But of course Hornigold won’t back it unless Eleanor allows Vane to become a captain again; he considers how Vane’s men are treating the “thieving whore” to be of absolutely no relevance. Rackham opposes Anne’s attempt at stopping Hamund from visiting Max to protect her from Hamund, who he fears would harm Anne. And finally, Pastor Lambrick doesn’t believe Miranda when she tells him that doesn’t need to fear Flint’s anger.

- An answer to this is unlikely collaboration between women people in ep 6, aka, Eleanor  and Anne who deeply despises her. Both of them share a sense of responsibility for what happened to Max, and believe that they’ll only feel better when Max is free and Hamund is dead. John “guilt will go away if you let it” Silver is roped into the plot, when Eleanor, reminds him that he’s a “loose end” to Flint, who will likely want to get rid of him, and promises to tell Flint not to kill Silver after he’s served his purpose if Silver helps them. Which he does, begrudgingly, and at the risk of getting murdered by Hamund at any moment. This puts Eleanor and Anne’s plan to kill Vane’s remaining crew into place, and ruffles Rackham’s feathers: he’s forced to help kill even the men who aren’t disgusting rapists like Hamund. He asks "do I not deserve  say", to which Anne answers "you had your say, now I have mine". GOOD FOR HER.

- When the dust settles, we get a really interesting moment where Silver accurately analyses Eleanor, pointing out that she can’t stand to be wrong, feel weak or let anyone get away with fucking with her - which makes her in his opinion possibly more dangerous than Flint. Does this mean that Silver still thinks he had a genuine chance of winning Flint over and surviving him even without Eleanor’s help? (he’d be right, considering how his relationship with Flint evolves later on the show; perhaps the difference between Flint and Eleanor is that because she’s a woman, she can’t *afford* to show any weakness at all)

- Lambrick has his big moment in episode 6 when he rides chivalrously to Miranda in the middle of the night, hoping to save her from Flint’s retribution. Instead of really reassuring him, Miranda chooses to talk about Thomas instead. This is where we hear the most about Thomas in S1, and the way Miranda speaks about him is clearly loving and admiring. She compares Thomas to Lambrick, saying that he was also a sort of shepherd (the comparison stops here imo). Then she imagines how Thomas would have played devil’s advocate, left all of Lambrick’s beliefs in tatters, all for his own good, to free him from the yoke of shame. I can’t help but think, from her teasing tone and the way she smiles, that she believes that Thomas would have somehow debauched Lambrick. The fact that she decides to have sex with him moments later certainly supports that idea. The ghost of Thomas looms on this scene, and it could be that she briefly imagines being with him, which could explain her smile and the way she holds him afterwards. But Miranda had another reason for sleeping with him: it was a very good way to make him stop asking questions about Flint.

- And in the meantime, Flint knows that Billy has been asking questions about Miranda and overheard him talking angrily with Gates about the letter. It just so happens that Billy has to go cut off a piece of the Andromache’s sail that’s slowing the Walrus down, which puts him in a secluded and dangerous spot. The conversation between Flint and Billy is very brief: Flint asks about the letter Billy found, and Billy answers “I think you know what was in it”. Actually, no, Flint has NO CLUE what was in it. Whatever else passes between them is a mystery, and the next thing we know is Flint announcing that Billy went overboard. We see him hovering behind Gates, watching him intently, until Gates decides that they can’t turn back for Billy. The camera pans a lot on Flint’s face, and his expression is quite unreadable. At first I wasn’t convinced that he’d pushed Billy, but on this watch I’m not so sure, because of the way Flint’s face is filmed. There’s also a sort of clue where we see Flint throw Billy’s sword into the sea during the burial at sea ritual. Of course as Captain he was meant to do that... but the gesture is suggestive of him throwing Billy himself. It’s certainly true that Billy had become a thorn in his side for two reasons: 1) he was one of the rare crew members who could influence Gates and get him on his side; 2) he was much too interested in who Mrs Barlow was and what her motivations were - if Billy had alerted the crew of what she’d done, Miranda may have been in danger (a mob quickly turns against a witch who works against the crew).

- To finish on Flint and Miranda: season 1 has painted them as a unit, an inseparable pair, working as a team (in supernatural ways, sometimes). And to some extent they are. Even at this time where they are truly at odds, where Miranda has tried to take control of Flint’s fate behind his back, they are still protecting each other. Flint doesn’t reveal anything about Miranda and possibly attempts to kill Billy to protect her, while Miranda seduces Pastor Lambrick as a way to distract him from his questions about Flint. She can’t convince him to believe her, but she herself is clearly convinced that Flint is a good, decent person (as she tells the Boston judge in her letter) and she trusts that he knows that she only tried to stop him get the Urca because she wanted to save him - something he will come to accept by the end of S2 (unfortunately for them).

[mikauzoran]

Lukadrien: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter One

Read it on AO3: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter One

A whole week had passed since The Breakup, and Luka was still reeling.

“You brought this upon yourself,” he reminded bitterly as he rolled over and found the space on the bed next to him empty and cold.

He kept telling himself, “You broke up with her”, “It was the right thing to do”, and “You couldn’t keep waiting for her to move on. That wasn’t healthy”, but the words never quite sank in.

One week later, he was even more of a mess than when he’d finally gotten the courage to break things off. The pain of being without her, knowing that it was really over, was worse than having her by his side knowing that she was thinking about someone else when she kissed him.

At least before he’d had a place in her heart, even if it was only second.

With a groan, Luka pushed himself up to sitting and grabbed his phone off the nightstand.

There was a text from Juleka berating him for drinking too much, not returning her texts, and taking crap care of himself.

Rose had also sent him a message reminding him about family dinner that Sunday.

Jacob, the bassist from his band Eternal Nocturne, had texted him not to be late for the auditions for a new lead singer that afternoon.

Luka cursed, setting his phone down without replying to anyone. He scrubbed his face with both hands and then forced himself to kick the covers off and get up.

It was already almost noon, and the mature, adult part of his brain knew that he had to get his stuff together. He was twenty-six, and he’d been through breakups before. He would survive this one as well…even though it didn’t feel like it at the moment.

He pushed himself out of bed and began to search around for something clean to wear.

He really needed to do laundry. And the dishes. And the grocery shopping.

Luka winced as he uncovered a lacey pink bra with white polka dots under a pile of jeans that reeked of alcohol and stale bar smell.

He needed to make a breakup box, put all of her leftover things in it, and send it back to her.

His heart sank at that realization, the finality of it.

He put the bra back under the jeans and promised himself he’d deal with it later. When he was feeling better…. Whenever that happened to be.

The important thing just then was to find something that could pass as clean so that he could get to the audition and not let his bandmates down. He was already disappointing himself and his family. He needed to do right by somebody at least.

 Adrien was screwed.

He’d been back in Paris for two days, and, already, his funds were almost entirely used up. He’d found a cheap hostel in Pigalle where he’d been able to shower and get a decent night’s rest without having to worry about anyone bothering him, but he wouldn’t be able to stay there for much longer unless he found work.

That was turning out to be much harder than anticipated. In Paris, people were a lot stricter about having to have valid identification to secure employment. They were also a lot more persnickety about hiring Adrien Agreste, even if it was just to wash dishes, clean hotel rooms, or wait tables.

Maybe he could talk to the owners of the hostel about working the front desk. He’d done that before in Nice and Lyon.

If the situation really got dire, he could always try to find someone like Nino from his past who would be sympathetic and maybe let him sleep on a couch or something until he could get back up on his feet again.

He didn’t want to do that, but it was beginning to look like he had no other choice. It had been four years since his father’s arrest, four years since Adrien lost his family, his fortune, and even the ability to use his own name. He’d thought that maybe people would have cooled off and moved on, that it was safe to come back to Paris, back home…but it wasn’t looking like it so far.

He was starting to think that it had been a mistake to return, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. He was tired of roaming the country and scraping by, and he couldn’t go on like that any longer. He wanted to establish roots and make a place for himself. He wanted to feel grounded again.

He was determined to figure things out and make it work, and if that meant going door to door to every restaurant, shop, and hotel in Paris until he found a job, that’s what he was going to do. He was through running away; it was time to settle down and make a life for himself.

He wasn’t sure what that life would look like, but if it included years of hard work, a partner who saw him and not his father’s crimes, some children who inherited his mother’s smile, and a pet or two, Adrien would be content.

He just had to find a job first so that he didn’t end up on the street nicking food out of restaurant dumpsters again.

As he descended the steps into the Métro, a flyer advertising auditions for a lead singer for a band caught Adrien’s eye.

He stopped and studied it, noting that auditions had begun twenty minutes prior at a bar just a few blocks away.

He grabbed the flyer and took off at a jog.

 “No one’s coming,” Jacob grumbled half an hour into the audition time when it became apparent that not a single soul was going to show up.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Josie the drummer agreed, tipping back on her barstool so that it balanced precariously on two legs. “So, what are we going to do without a vocalist?”

“Yeah, we’ve got that gig coming up this weekend,” Jacob reminded, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip.

Josie and Jacob both looked to Marc—guitarist, keyboardist, and the band’s unofficial leader/mum.

“Josephine, don’t do that; you’re going to fall,” Marc sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “…I mean, I can cover lead for one night.”

“Who’s going to do your backup vocals, then,” Josie demanded, setting her stool legs back on the ground.

“Luka can,” Marc informed.

Jacob snorted. “Luka’s drunk.”

“Luka is not drunk,” Marc growled defensively. “He knows better than to show up drunk. He’s just hung over, isn’t that right, Luc?”

“Yes, and I’m nursing a killer headache, so if we could take the volume of the talking down a few decibels, it would be greatly appreciated,” Luka groaned, pulling his newsboy cap down a little further to shield his eyes from the bright light emanating from the stage where the people auditioning were supposed to be performing.

“And who’s going to do Luka’s backup vocals?” Josie persisted, lowering her voice out of consideration for Luka.

“I don’t know. Jacob?” Marc suggested uncertainly.

Josie let out a bark of laughter. “Jacob can’t walk and talk at the same time. How is he supposed to play and sing?”

“Josie,” Marc scolded. “Be nice.”

“No, she’s got a point,” Jacob cut in. “I’ve walked into poles before because I didn’t see them because I was talking to someone. Multitasking really isn’t my strong suit.”

Marc opened his mouth to reply, paused to consider his words, and then shut his mouth.

“Excuse me?” a new voice called out.

The band turned their heads to find a thin, scraggly young man standing in the doorway.

He had scruffy, wild blonde hair and piercing peridot eyes, and it was impossible to say how old he was exactly. He looked young, but he had one of those ageless faces that could have just as easily been twenty as forty. His clothes had been expensive, good quality when they were new, but now they were well-worn and showing their age.

“Are auditions over already?” he inquired, taking a tentative step into the bar.

The door closed behind him, and now that he wasn’t backlit by the daylight pouring in from outside, Luka could see him clearly.

His eyes widened as he recognized his former crush whom he hadn’t seen in four long years.

“No, we’re still going,” Jacob informed.

“You here to try out, Kid?” Josie asked with a big smile, turning on her stool to face him.

Adrien nodded, holding up the flyer in his hand. “I just learned about the audition, like, ten minutes ago, so I don’t have anything prepared in advance, but I’m a good singer with a pretty expansive range. I’m a quick study too, so, if you teach me, I’ll pick up your songs right away.”

“All right,” Marc agreed with a grin. “Go ahead and take the stage, and we’ll see what you’ve got. What’s your name?”

“Émile,” Adrien responded with a smile as he took his spot in front of the microphone. “Émile Dupain.”

Luka frowned.

Surely, he wasn’t mistaken. The years had changed Adrien, yes, but he wasn’t that different. Luka knew that face, those eyes, that smile.

“Nice to meet you, Émile,” Marc greeted amicably. “I’m Marc. I play keyboard and some guitar depending on the song. I also do backup vocals.”

“I’m Josie. Percussion,” Josie took over. “This idiot is Jacob, our bassist,”

Jacob gamely raised a hand. “Sup.”

“and Mr. Doom and Gloom over there is Luc,” Josie completed the introductions. “He plays guitar and does backup vocals. Ignore him for right now. He just broke up with his girlfriend, so he’s kind of in a funk. Normally, he’s the nicest person, so give him another week and you’ll be best friends.”

“Thank you for broadcasting all that, Josie,” Luka grumbled as he waved at Adrien, just waiting for him to recognize Luka.

He worried that if Adrien were trying to conceal his identity, he wouldn’t appreciate the reunion, but a part of Luka hoped that Adrien would be excited to see him again. Luka was certainly happy to see Adrien.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Adrien replied, friendly expression not changing in the slightest. “What kind of music do you guys usually play?”

Luka fought down a tsunami of disappointment at Adrien not seeming to recognize him.

“Usually alternative or punk,” Marc supplied, not appearing to notice the way Luka slumped in his chair. “We mostly do covers, but we have our own songs too. Our next show is Saturday, but we’ll just be doing covers for that one, so it shouldn’t be too hard for you to get up to speed if we decide to hire you.”

Adrien nodded. “Sounds good. I’m a hard worker, so I’ll get the music memorized right away and be ready for the show.”

“Have you ever been in a band before, Émile?” Josie inquired curiously.

“Yes,” Adrien answered with confidence. “I’m a little out of practice at the moment, but I played keyboard and did a little bit of backup vocals.”

“What kind of band was it?” Marc asked.

“Uh…the genre’s called kawaiicore, if you’ve heard of it,” Adrien informed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Jacob’s forehead furrowed in concentration as he tried to recall. “It sounds familiar, but I’m coming up blank. What’s kawaiicore?”

“You know when I showed you Babymetal?” Luka reminded.

Jacob’s face lit up, and Josie started to nod too.

“Like Kitty Section!” Jacob exclaimed.

“Yeah!” Adrien perked up. “That’s—”

He cut himself off and went pale when he realized that telling them that he had been the keyboardist in Kitty Section was just as good as revealing his identity.

“That’s right,” Adrien completed. “Like Kitty Section. I can do other genres, though. I can sing anything: musical theatre, opera, jazz, pop—whatever.”

“So, what will you be singing for us today?” Marc prompted, very interested in seeing what Adrien would come up with.

“Well, I’ve kind of been living under a rock lately, so I’m not exactly up on what’s popular now,” Adrien hedged. “I mostly listen to music in Japanese, so maybe I could just sing something so that you can see if my voice is a good fit for you guys, and then you can give me a list of songs you usually do so that I can memorize them.”

“Sounds fair,” Josie replied with a shrug. “So, what are you going to sing?”

Adrien bit his lip and took a deep breath, scanning his mind for a song that would show off his abilities.

“Do you know Charles?” Luka spoke up. “That was popular a couple years ago. If you know that one, I could play the guitar part along with you.”

Adrien had been the one to introduce the song to Luka, and they’d played it together with Kitty Section with Adrien doing the main vocals. Luka still played that song from time to time when he was feeling nostalgic.

On stage, Adrien’s eyes widened in surprise. “Uh…yeah. Yeah, I know Charles. It’s one of my favourites. You wouldn’t mind?”

He narrowed his eyes, trying to get a better look at Luka’s facial features, but the hat blocked Adrien’s view, and it was difficult to discern Luka’s face clearly in the dim lighting of the bar when contrasted with the blinding lights on stage.

“I’d be happy to,” Luka assured, reaching down to grab his guitar off of the amp where it lay.

“Thank you,” Adrien replied with a big smile that made Luka positive that he hadn’t been mistaken about “Émile’s” identity. “Ready when you are.”

Luka counted them in and began to play.

Adrien blew the band away with his vocals. His voice was smooth and lyrical, gliding over the notes like a swan across a pond.

“He has really clear intonation,” Marc hummed softly in approval to his bandmates after listening to Adrien sing for a bit.

“And he wasn’t lying about his range,” Josie chuckled as she drummed out the rhythm on her thighs and danced in her seat.

“I certainly can’t hit those notes,” Jacob laughed.

“Neither can I,” Josie snorted. “Well, maybe on a good day, but not the way he does. He just shoots all the way up there and drops back down again like it’s nothing.”

“It’s so clean too,” Marc added. “His voice doesn’t crack or squeak or waver or anything. He hits those notes dead center, and then he stays there until it’s time to move to the next note.”

“I think we struck gold,” Jacob snickered.

“He’s super cute too.” Josie smirked deviously. “He’s sure to attract a crowd. We just need to put some eyeliner on him and get him in leather pants, and—”

“—Distracting me,” Luka hissed quietly so that he wouldn’t interrupt Adrien.

Jacob waggled his eyebrows as he whispered, “What? Imagining Émile in leather pants?”

“Jacques,” Luka warned testily.

“He’s totally your type, though,” Josie joined in helpfully. “I think a new romance is just the thing to get you over your breakup.”

“Jacob, Josephine,” Marc called quietly but firmly. “Leave him alone.”

Josie and Jacob both held up their hands in a placating gesture and let the subject drop.

Luka redoubled his focus on his fingers, trying to banish the thought of Chat Noir from his mind.

“Waraiatte sayonara,” Adrien finished softly and then looked to the band for their judgment call.

Jacob started clapping, and Josie wolf-whistled.

“Can we do that song sometime?” Jacob directed at Marc. “I bet the bass part is killer.”

“Yeah!” Josie cheered. “I can’t wait to get my drumsticks on that.”

“I don’t see why we couldn’t,” Marc agreed and then turned back to Adrien with a smile. “You really can sing. That was great.”

“You think so?” Adrien asked with a breathless giddiness, starting to squirm in excitement.

“Definitely,” Luka assured. “You sing like an angel.”

“Make him sing something else,” Josie demanded of Marc who had the grace to blush.

“Josephine, I can’t just make him sing for us,” he sighed and then looked to Adrien. “Would you mind singing something else?”

“Not at all,” Adrien easily agreed, eager to please.

He needed the job desperately, and if he could get paid just for singing, that was certainly easier than anything else he’d done for money the past four years.

“Um…let me think of something else I could sing for you,” he mumbled, chewing on his lip as he wracked his thoughts.

“…Do you know Ranbu no Melody?” Luka suggested. “That’s another one I could play along with you, if you’re familiar with it. I only know the minute and a half that was used as the Bleach opening theme song, though.”

“Yeah, I think I remember how that version goes,” Adrien fibbed.

Luka and Adrien had watched portions of Bleach together, and Adrien had sung along with all of the openings. If Luka still remembered the guitar part, surely, Adrien remembered the lyrics.

Luka counted them in again, and Adrien proved not to have forgotten at all. He sang with every ounce of confidence and enthusiasm that he had back when they’d been teenagers watching anime together.

It was reassuring for Luka to know that, even though Adrien might have changed in the years they’d been apart, there were some things that remained the same.

“How do you know all this weeb music, Luka?” Jacob wondered.

“The Boy was a total anime nerd,” Luka explained with an affectionate smile.

Jacob and Josie let out soft “Oooooh”s and started to nod.

The Boy was practically a mythical figure at this point in their friendship. Luka had talked a lot about The Boy over the years, just like he’d talked a lot about The Girl. Luka had dated many people and loved a small handful, but no one had penetrated so deeply into Luka’s heart as Adrien and Marinette.

“…He’s really good,” Marc observed, visibly delighted as he listened to Adrien. “He puts a lot of emotion into his voice, and I am loving it.”

“Yeah,” Jacob chimed in. “I have no idea what the hell he’s saying, but I feel it, Man. It’s intense.”

Luka’s smile turned melancholy as he remarked, “If I remember correctly, the song is about soldiering on and taking on whatever difficulty is in front of you and then carrying those experiences forward to present them to the person you want to spend your life with. It’s kind of like…we’re the sum of our experiences, and the singer hopes that the person they love will accept them anyway, even though they’ve got cracks and jagged edges in places.”

“Wow,” Josie whispered. “That’s…deep.”

“That’s what I got out of it, anyway,” Luka quickly added. “The Boy translated it into French for me, and then I kind of interpreted it artistically, taking some liberties, but that’s what I got out of it.”

“I like this song,” Jacob decided, tapping his foot along. “I like this kid.”

“We’re adopting him,” Josie decreed.

“Yeah.” Jacob nodded resolutely. “I need to get him to show me more weeb music. I feel like I’ve been missing out.”

“Wooo!!!” Josie cheered loudly as Adrien finished. “We love you!”

“Sing more!” Jacob encouraged as he clapped.

A blush spread across Adrien’s cheeks like fire catching on dried grass.

He rubbed at the back of his neck and looked to Marc for instruction, sensing that Marc was the leader of their little circus.

“I think it would be good if we all played something together to see if we mesh well as a band,” Marc decided. “Would that be okay with you, Émile?”

Adrien nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, of course.”

Jacob turned to Luka. “What song does he know that we could all play?”

Luka shrank, semi-hiding behind his guitar. “Why are you asking me?”

“You did the psychic thing with the songs in Japanese,” Jacob reasoned with a shrug. “Do it again.”

“Yeah,” Josie urged, reaching across Marc to poke Luka. “Do it.”

“I don’t know,” Luka grumbled. “How about This is Gospel? We play that one sometimes.”

And he had taught Adrien how to play it on guitar, so maybe Adrien remembered the lyrics.

“I know that one,” Adrien offered.

“Awesome!” Josie trilled, jumping down from her stool and heading over to the stage to join Adrien.

Once she reached him, she pulled him into a crushing hug.

It was kind of cute. Josie was a statuesque six-foot-two, and Adrien was only five-eight. (Five-ten with shoes on, he used to always insist, sensitive about his lack of height.)

“Hi. We’re adopting you,” Josie informed him as she pulled back with a grin and then abruptly turned on her heel and headed for her drum set.

Marc shook his head, getting up and making his way to the stage to turn on his keyboard.

“Josephine, don’t scare the poor kid,” he chastised wearily.

“I’m not!” she insisted. “I’m being friendly!”

Marc placed a hand on Adrien’s shoulder as he passed, assuring, “She means well. If we ever make you uncomfortable, just say something, okay?”

“It’s fine,” Adrien assured, wiping at the tears beading at the corners of his eyes, hoping that Marc couldn’t see. “I’m just…I’m not used to people being so friendly. I don’t…people don’t hug me. Ever.”

Marc frowned at that, his mum senses kicking in. “Do you like being hugged?”

Adrien nodded.

“Okay then.” Marc didn’t even hesitate as he pulled Adrien in for a hug—not a guy hug with a pat on the back, but an honest to goodness hug.

He pulled back with a smile, instructing, “Just let us know whenever you want a hug, okay? You’re family now. Family get hugs whenever.”

Adrien had to actually bite his tongue to hold in a whimper. He couldn’t find his voice to reply, so he nodded and rubbed away the tears that were quickly taking the previous ones’ place.

“I’ll give you a hug in a minute, Kid,” Jacob assured, picking up his bass. “I’m just lazy, and I’m already set up over here.”

“Same,” Luka latched onto Jacob’s excuse, figuring that now wasn’t the best time for a reunion with Adrien.

Josie counted them in and started the heartbeat-like rhythm that began the song.

Adrien took a deep breath and sang.

The full sound of the band all playing together resonated powerfully through the bar, giving Adrien chills.

It wasn’t perfect. The timing was a little off in places, and Adrien needed to learn his cues if he was going to sync up with the others. They needed to work out the backup vocals and other little things to make the performance come out smooth, but they were starting in a good place. They could polish this up and make it shine.

It felt good to be playing with a band again. Adrien hadn’t realized how much he’d missed making music with others, being a part of a team.

He’d been so alone these past four years.

Partly that was his own fault. He’d run away both literally and figuratively and shut people out who otherwise would have been there for him. He’d let pride and shame and fear of rejection win…and now he was finally realizing how exhausting it had been.

Now that these nice people were opening up to him and accepting him into their little family, it finally dawned upon Adrien that he’d been foolish to try to make it on his own for so long. He hadn’t realized how draining it had been until he’d been offered the chance to rest.

He needed to call Nino and reconnect.

He needed to find Marinette and apologize for giving up his Miraculous and taking off because he’d been overwhelmed after his father’s arrest and hadn’t felt worthy of being Chat Noir.

He needed to fix things, fix his life.

As the song came to an end, a feeling of calm and peace settled over Adrien.

He was still broke and not sure where his next meal was coming from or if he’d have a roof over his head in the intervening days between now and the show on Saturday when he’d presumably get paid, but, oddly enough, he felt a little better about things.

“We killed that,” Jacob preened as he set down his bass and went over to join the others on stage. “Excellent work, Kid,” he announced, pulling Adrien into a hug.

“I’m guessing I got the job?” Adrien hazarded a guess, looking around at his bandmates for confirmation.

“Oh, definitely,” Josie assured. “You know that one meme? ‘I’ve only known Émile for twenty minutes, but if anything happened to him, I’d kill everyone and then myself.’”

Adrien cracked up, beaming. “I don’t think anyone’s ever felt that strongly about me before.”

“Poor boy. And now he’s stuck with us,” Jacob snickered, giving Adrien’s hair a tussle.

“Let’s exchange contact information so we can get ahold of you,” Marc suggested. “Are you available tomorrow? We’re going to need a lot of rehearsal time between now and Saturday in order to be ready.”

“Yes. I’m available,” Adrien quickly confirmed. “I don’t have a phone, though, so if we could communicate by email, that would be great. I’m le chat de la princesse de la nuit on gmail. All lowercase and run together.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Marc assured, getting out his phone and opening up a new email. “I’ll email you all of our numbers and emails so you can get in touch with us. I’ll email you again later with the place and time. It’ll probably be Phantasmagoria over in the eighth arrondissement. You know it?”

Adrien nodded. “I had a friend whose band played there. He used to sneak me in before I turned eighteen.”

The fond smile on Adrien’s face gave Luka some hope that maybe he was still a good memory for Adrien and that Adrien wouldn’t be too upset when he realized just whose band he had inadvertently joined.

It didn’t occur to Adrien until later to wonder if Luka still played at Phantasmagoria and if Raoul the bartender still worked there and would recognize Adrien.

“Good,” Marc chuckled. “I’m glad you know it. Like I said, I’ll confirm place and time later this afternoon.”

He then turned to Luka. “Hey, Rich Boy. Would you mind picking up a phone for Émile? It’s going to be really inconvenient if we can’t get ahold of him.”

“You don’t have to do to that!” Adrien looked frantically between Marc and Luka. “I’ll-I’ll pay you back when I can. I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it, Angel,” Luka assured with a kind smile as he got up and started to put his guitar away. “My bio dad got hit with a huge dose of guilt a few years ago for never bothering to find out I existed let alone pay child support for me, so I’ve got a ridiculous trust fund that I don’t know what to do with now.”

Adrien’s brow furrowed, and he wanted to protest out of principle, but even he had to acknowledge that it would be really useful to have a phone, and he was too down on his luck to afford one.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it, Luc,” he replied with sincerity.

“Sure thing.” Luka smiled, giving Adrien a wink and doing an internal victory dance when Adrien smiled back at him.

“…Well, I guess if you guys don’t need anything else from me, I’m going to head out,” Adrien excused himself politely, starting to make his way towards the door. “It was lovely meeting you all.”

“You too, Kid!” Jacob assured, and Josie seconded the sentiment.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Émile.” Marc waved him off. “Be safe.”

Adrien returned the wave and turned to go.

Luka bit his lip, debating with himself.

“What’s that face you’re making?” Josie snickered, coming back to perch on her barstool.

“You should go ask him out to coffee,” Jacob suggested as he came over, making a shooing gesture at Luka.

“Jacob will babysit your stuff for you,” Marc volunteered.

Luka looked to Jacob, and Jacob shrugged.

“We all want you to start feeling better soon,” Josie explained, giving Luka a soft smile. “Spending time with someone new will be good for you.”

“Just don’t come on too strong so that you scare him off,” Marc cautioned. “Don’t do that heart-song stuff. He’s a good kid, and we need him for Saturday.”

Luka rolled his eyes, handing his guitar to Jacob. “Thanks, guys, but this isn’t a romantic thing.”

“Uh-huh,” Josie agreed disingenuously, a cat-that-ate-the-canary smirk pulling at the corners of her lips.

“Have fun,” Jacob snickered.

Luka shook his head, making for the door.

He looked back and forth once he got outside of the bar and just happened to spot Adrien turning the corner.

He raced after him, slowing down as he began to catch up because he figured the last thing Adrien needed was someone he didn’t recognize barreling towards him and making him think he was in danger.

He decelerated into a walk and took a few deep breaths before calling out, “Adrien!”

Adrien froze, every muscle in his back going tense as he slowly turned.

“I’m sorry. I think you’ve confused me with someone el—” he started to say but then stopped short as he got a good look at Luka in the light of day without his cap obscuring the view.

Adrien’s eyes widened, his cheeks lost all colour, and his mouth dropped open.

“Luka?” he breathed, his heart stopping in his chest.

[ladylynse]

Chapter 5 of Forewarning [FF | AO3]

All Dipper knew was that there was something buried in some special thermos behind the shack; all Danny knew was that he had no idea how he’d gotten here.

Inspired by this artwork by @hashtag-art

(beginning | previous)

-|-

“Look, kid,” Stan said after taking a quick peek at his watch, “I need to get going, and you shouldn’t be working on any of this by yourself.” He nodded at the portal. Truth was, he didn’t want Danny touching it at all when he wasn’t around. “Safer for both of us if you keep your expertise on these things for when I’m around to hear what you’re saying. That sound good?”

Fortunately for Stan, the kid nodded. His next repetition of that proposal might’ve been a lot less careful and a lot more, well, direct. Not his usual method, not punching, not now that he knew at least part of this kid was human and still very much a kid and that the part that wasn’t could go right through his punches, but he’d learned enough from the kid to know the sort of thing that would work. Quite aside from the fact that Stan knew exactly how dangerous some of this stuff could be, he wasn’t going to risk thirty years of work being for nothing if something got changed when he wasn’t around to see it happen.

Of course, that was why he had to say this next part. And he couldn’t even be very subtle at it, since he was pretty sure subtle would go over the kid’s head. “I wanna protect my family,” he said. “That includes everyone you’ve met up there, and that includes protecting them from all of this.”

Dammit, the kid was pulling a face. “I’m not sure if you can.” His words were slow. Deliberate. “From what I can tell, when you finally get to the point where you turn this on…. It’s going to be obvious.”

Stan snorted. “Not more obvious than any of the other things that go on around here.” He might not like where things had been headed, but he could make this particular turn of the conversation work to his advantage if he picked the right words, and he was very good at doing that. Experience could be an effective teacher. “It’s not a coincidence you got the reaction you did. This place is called the Mystery Shack for a reason.”

“This place is tourist trap.”

“Not all of it. And every single person up there knows it.” Stan jabbed his thumb towards the ceiling. “You do, too.” Judging both by what he’d said and the way he was acting. Stan was not foolish enough to think that Danny was comfortable right now. “That book you mentioned earlier? Yeah, it might need updating, but you already know not all the info in it is wrong.” He saw Danny frown and kept going, adding on what he’d wanted to say in the first place. “Tell you what. You want to make sure the book the kids are looking at is accurate when it comes to you not planning on destroying all of us where we stand? Grab it and stash it down here. We can update it tonight.”

The kid rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know if stealing it is the best way to go.”

It was the best way for Stan, but all he really needed out of it were the missing pages of blueprints. The rest of the info in there might be useful, but it wasn’t immediately important. There was more than one way for him to get a look at those pages. “Then ask for it.” All he needed was for Dipper to pull that book out in his sight so he could ask to see it, even if he pretended it wasn’t important, or at least not nearly as important as it was….

“I don’t…. You were listening when I said they threatened to exorcise me, right? They probably already would’ve if they hadn’t been too busy asking me questions. They’re never going to hand that over to me when they don’t trust me.”

Oh, oh, that was getting dangerously close to so why don’t you just ask for it? territory, and Stan didn’t want to go there. “You give them much reason to trust you?”

Silence.

That’s what he’d thought.

“I’m keeping this a secret to protect all of them,” Stan said with a nod towards the portal. “You know how dangerous this is if they accidentally mess something up, and I’m not about to present them with Pandora’s Box.” There was enough truth in that to be believable; he could see the rueful agreement on Danny’s face. “You’re trying to protect yourself with your secrets, but that’s just putting you in danger. Wasn’t that why you came clean with me?”

It wasn’t the whole reason. Stan knew that. But it was part of the reason. It was reason enough.

Danny sighed. “Yeah, okay. You’re right. I’ll try to explain. I wouldn’t mind the backup, though. They act first and ask questions later.”

“Survival instinct. You don’t have to live here long to get it.”

“Gathering that,” the kid muttered, his eyes flicking over the hidden lab once more. Then, louder, “Fine. I’ll talk to them. But you’ll at least save me before they do anything drastic if it goes sideways, right?”

And back to the tricky part. He suspected that one of the reasons Dipper had never told him about the journal was that he made a big show about not believing in any of this. An effective show. “Just be yourself. No more tricks. Don’t know who you’re used to fooling, but we’re made of more skeptical stock out here.”

It wasn’t a promise, and narrowed eyes told him that had been noticed. After a heartbeat, though, the kid’s shoulders relaxed, and his suspicion drained away. “That’s one of the ways you’re trying to protect them, isn’t it? By not admitting how much you know.”

He hadn’t expected Danny to hit that particular nail on the head, at least not so quickly, but Stan grunted in affirmation anyway. The kid hadn’t argued, which meant he’d seen the point of it, even if he hadn’t realized the breadth of Stan’s motives behind that choice.

“I get that,” he whispered. “I’m doing something similar. Sometimes the…. Sometimes the truth hurts, y’know? And it’s just easier to live the lie. Safer. For everyone.”

Practice was the only thing that kept the surprise off his face. For all of Danny’s rambling earlier, he’d neatly avoided alluding to that before.

“It isn’t always.” Stan was painfully aware of that. Sixer had realized it, too, before…before…. “Your situation isn’t the same as mine. Just because you think secrecy is the right choice for everyone else and not just you, doesn’t mean it is, and you shouldn’t assume as much simply because it’s more convenient for you.” Rich words, maybe, coming from him, but the kid had no idea of how much of his life was a lie.

He had no idea it went far beyond a secret lab, a reverse engineered portal, and a determination to fix his mistakes.

“Maybe.” It was clear that Danny didn’t want to talk about it. That suited Stan just fine. He didn’t want to keep talking about this, either. “I need to get home before I get to worry about that, though.”

Stan wouldn’t mind having words with the being that had put Danny in this situation, and not just because he suspected it might give him some insight about his brother if said being happened to be in a talkative mood. The ghost—if the thing really was a ghost like Danny claimed and the kid wasn’t wrong about that—sounded like he could use a knuckle sandwich to go with said words, and Stan wouldn’t have a problem serving that up.

“Then I’ll see you back here tonight.”

“No. I…. I’ll see you before that. Because you’re right. I need to explain myself. You might not be the only one I’m supposed to help.”

Stan wasn’t entirely convinced the kid was really supposed to help anyone. Manipulative beings came in all sorts, and they were usually smart enough to have agendas that either aligned with what you seemed to need to do anyway or were just plain impossible to realize until it was too late to turn back. Saying that wouldn’t help the kid, though, so Stan just nodded. “You head up first. I’ll catch up.”

-|-

Dipper had decided to chop some wood, thinking—among other things—that Wendy might see what he’d accomplished and tell him he’d done a good job of it.

The problem was, even he knew he wasn’t doing a good job, and there was very little chance of him turning it into a good job by the time she saw it.

So far, he’d accumulated a small pile of interesting wedges on the ground and what felt like the beginning of three blisters, two on his right hand and one on the left. He was sore and hot and sweaty, despite ditching his vest and using it to cover up the journal. He was getting better, though. Marginally. Maybe.

Dipper took a deep breath, judged the angle, and then swung. The axe hit true, biting into the dead centre of the block of wood he was trying to split with a satisfying thunk. And then it stuck there.

What should have been a great feat had come to failure in time to be witnessed by his sister.

“Just hit the ground like you’re playing whack-a-mole,” Mabel suggested as she dumped a handful of sticks into the box of kindling that would eventually make its way over to the fire pit. “That’s gotta be easier than yanking it out.”

“Safer, too, probably,” Dipper agreed, but Mabel was standing there and watching him now, and it wasn’t working fast enough. At least, two more solid whacks hadn’t split it. He tried to swing harder and managed to catch the edge of the wood block on the ground, tilting it but not loosening it entirely—nor, notably, splitting the wood in half.

“I could try,” offered Mabel, but Dipper shook his head.

“I can do this.”

“We might not need it, anyway. Soos split some earlier.”

“It’s always good to have extra.”

“Suit yourself, bro-bro.”

Dipper assumed Mabel would head back out to gather more deadwood, but she just stood there and picked stray bits of bark out of her sweater. He gave up trying to split the wood block—or straighten it out on the axe; he wasn’t picky at the moment—and instead let his aching arms rest. “What’s bothering you? The phantom, or whatever he really is?” It was safe enough for them to talk; Grunkle Stan and Wendy had gone into town, and Soos was touching up the window frames with a fresh coat of paint. Not that Dipper wouldn’t have had this conversation right now if Soos were in earshot, since he trusted Soos, but if Phantom did decide to pull some tricks, it wasn’t smart to give him leverage.

In Dipper’s limited experience of ghosts, they were happy to use things and people you cared about against you.

Not finding more bits of bark in her sweater, Mabel began tracing circles on the ground with her the toe of her shoe. “I know you’re worried about this,” she said slowly, “and what it said in the journal—”

“I don’t even know everything the journal says. That’s what worries me.”

“But I don’t think Phantom is that bad. I mean, he hasn’t attacked us, even when we split up.” They hadn’t split up far, true—she’d stuck close, well within screaming distance and maybe even his sprinting distance, after their summer so far—but Dipper had thought that might coax Phantom out into the open again. It hadn’t, but Phantom not falling for it didn’t mean Mabel was right.

“He’s not like Mermando. It’s not just a stroke of bad luck that he’s here. He was trapped in that thermos. It can’t have been because he’s nice.”

Mabel stuck out her tongue at him. “Then why’d you open it?”

“Because I didn’t think ‘something stuck in some special thermos’ meant ‘secret containment of something that can kill you more easily than everything else in this journal and is freakily good at pretending to be human.’ I thought it was going to be a note!”

“You mean you thought it was going to tell you who the author was.”

Dipper sighed and sat down, shifting as a wood chip dug into his leg. “I thought it might be a clue to his identity,” he admitted, “or hints about the other journals. We don’t know anything about them.”

Mabel dropped down beside him and started pulling out blades of grass. “What if Phantom is right and we—you—need to forget about the author? Before we get in over our heads?”

“You know I can’t just forget about this. It’s…. There’s so much here. I can’t just walk away and pretend I didn’t see any of it. I just…. I can’t.”

Mabel nodded as if she hadn’t expected him to say anything else. “I think Danny—Phantom—whoever—came back earlier.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” He scrambled to his feet and glanced at the shack, which looked exactly as it had the last time he’d looked at it. The runes must be holding up. “How long ago?”

“When Wendy sent us outside. And I didn’t tell you because we’d already drawn all that warding stuff. And because I don’t think he’s as bad as you think he is.”

“You can’t risk everything just because you think he’s cute!”

“I’m not! If he wanted to hurt us, he could have. You know that. I think he’s looking for something. If we help him, he’ll be able to go home and everything will be fine.” She tossed bits of shredded grass aside. “Sit down. Please?” Dipper sighed and sat down, so she continued, “You know not everything in the book is dangerous. And you don’t know that he’s dangerous; you’re just assuming that because you don’t know what the book really says.”

“His section is in a special code. What am I supposed to think?”

“The section about him. Not the section telling you how to find him.”

Dipper stared at her for a few heartbeats. “You really don’t think the author wrote that part, do you?”

“Is the handwriting the same?”

“It’s similar enough. The code is more symbols than letters, anyway.”

“Maybe it’s a message for Phantom then, not whoever finds him.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“He knows time travel is real, and he knows someone around here has done it. That’s not something people randomly guess.”

It didn’t mean he was innocent, either, but Mabel had already made up her mind. It was like she’d forgotten the last time someone supposedly completely innocent and pretending to be human had turned up in their lives, which had already happened more times than Dipper would have thought possible before this summer. Sure, there was a chance she was right, but if Phantom didn’t have some nefarious plan, why masquerade as a human? Had he honestly thought they wouldn’t see through it?

“Okay,” Dipper said slowly. “Let’s assume our warding in working. If he still came back and hasn’t shown himself to us, then he’s looking for something, and he thinks it’s hidden inside.”

“And he doesn’t think we have it or he would’ve been more subtle.” Mabel wrinkled her nose. “He was knocking on walls and the floor and stuff, like he thought something would be hollowed out.”

“He thinks Grunkle Stan is storing something under the floorboards?” No, that couldn’t be right. Grunkle Stan wouldn’t have stashed anything useful for a ghost. “He thinks the author did? Maybe he does know about the journals and just didn’t want to tell us. Maybe he thinks the first one is hidden inside!”

“Or maybe I was wrong and he does think we have it and he’s trying to scare us into moving it.”

“You don’t think he’d try torturing us or something like a normal phantom of pain?”

Mabel shrugged. “He really doesn’t act like the other ghosts.”

No, he didn’t, which didn’t sit well with Dipper. Did he claim to be a phantom to throw them off the scent? It couldn’t be to try to intimidate them—from what Dipper had seen, he could’ve impersonated a category ten if that were the case—so maybe it was meant to mislead them, to keep them too preoccupied to realize the truth.

It was working.

Dipper huffed. “I know you want to trust him. Fine. I can’t, not until I get some answers.”

“Then let’s get some answers.”

“Summoning him again won’t exactly make him want to tell us anything,” Dipper said with a grimace.

“Talking to him might,” Mabel said, her gaze fixing on something over his shoulder.

Dipper swallowed and turned. It was Phantom all right, back as Danny Fenton. He was coming from the right direction, walking in from the path that led towards town, but Mabel wouldn’t have been wrong about earlier, which meant he was deliberately trying to be sneaky. Great. At least he wasn’t that good at it, judging by his attempts to play off Fenton as just a friend earlier.

“You see if you can get the axe free,” Dipper muttered, picking up a stick that was meant to be kindling for later. “I’m going to see how far I can get on a protective circle before he gets here.”

-|-

Soos stepped back and eyed his handiwork. It wasn’t his best. It wasn’t as good as he’d like. The salt had made the paint clumpier than he was used to, but Wendy had been right about it being a good starting point. If they weren’t sure exactly what they were dealing with but it seemed ghost-like, salting the thresholds without being too obvious about it was a good start.

He’d spent the last twenty minutes going over the door and window frames. He should probably find an excuse to go on the roof and do something around the chimney, though not with the paint colour he had. That would be too obvious on the shingles, and not drawing attention to what he was doing was preferable.

He still thought the kids should know right now, but Wendy had a point. Dipper wouldn’t be able to resist getting involved, and he’d think it was his job to save them all. If they could get a few preventative measures in place before the kids knew all the details—and, preferably, if he and Wendy could get a better idea of what those details were first—then maybe there wouldn’t be any more saving left to do.

Just because Wendy didn’t trust this not-quite-a-ghost, didn’t meant it was actually out to get them. Soos liked being an optimist. You needed to be, sometimes, to get through what life tossed at you. It could hurt—he wouldn’t deny that—but he figured it was better to hope than to just give in to doom and gloom and despair.

Ghost stories after marshmallows, Wendy had said. Marshmallows wouldn’t be the only thing she was getting in town, but Soos wasn’t sure how they were supposed to fight an unknown entity. If they didn’t know what it was, there were only so many general things they could try before they ran out of ways to stop it. They had enough things around here already if something needed to be set on fire, but if it required something weirdly specific, like holy oil? That wasn’t something you could just pick up from the grocery store.

All right, so maybe that’s another reason Soos wanted to tell the kids sooner rather than later. Even if Stan didn’t believe in all this, they did, and Dipper’s book clearly had some information in it. They’d be more than willing to sell this whole thing as a gimmick to their grunkle, too. Well. They might try to convince him it was all real first. Then they’d settle for selling it as a gimmick.

Another coat of lumpy salt paint wasn’t going to improve matters right now, so Soos scraped the remaining paint into a can he could seal and store for later and set about washing out the bucket and brush. He could grab his hammer and nail down a few loose shingles on the roof. That would give him a good reason to be up there. Maybe he could mix some salt with glue and then hammer down some shingles on top of that. It might last a little longer. It might last long enough, which was all that really mattered right now.

Soos was swapping supplies in the toolshed when he heard the crunch of gravel underfoot. No roar of an engine or whine of the golf cart, but the kids had been out in the other direction when he’d left them. He stuck his head outside, waving at a teen who had stopped awkwardly in the driveway at his appearance. With Stan out, he was filling in for Mr. Mystery, so he put the tools back down on the bench and stepped out to give the kid a proper greeting.

Customer from town, probably, though it was odd that he’d come this late, so close to closing.

And alone.

“Welcome to the Mystery Shack!” Soos started, but the boy stepped back and held up both hands.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, “but I’m, uh, not here for the tour. I had it earlier this afternoon.”

Funny. Soos had been working outside most of the afternoon because it had been slow. He didn’t remember seeing this kid. He didn’t remember any customers since that one car had come in this morning, to be honest, and that couple had only had a disgruntled daughter with them.

“Um. I was actually hoping to talk to Dipper and Mabel? If they’re around?”

Dipper and Mabel hadn’t mentioned anything, but it’s not like Soos had quizzed them as they’d skipped by to start gathering wood.

Still.

This boy was a tourist. Coming from town. Without parents. Soos didn’t know too many teens who would make that walk; even most of the locals preferred to drive it, since people tended to consider it just this side of too long to be comfortable, and none of them would have to worry about getting lost.

“They might be about,” Soos said carefully, but the boy was already looking around, and it wouldn’t be long before— Yes. He’d spotted them. Raised his hand in a wave. No welcoming shouts back, so not someone the twins considered a good friend, not yet, but no clear signs of confusion, either, at least not as far as Soos could tell. The boy mumbled some excuse to Soos and jogged around him, and Soos let him go.

The hair on the back of his neck was still standing, though.

Keeping one ear pointed towards the kids, just in case, Soos kept his head down and started to walk the driveway. They’d gotten a load of gravel in recently, and he’d spent an evening raking it down just the other day. It hadn’t had much traffic on it yet, just the occasional car—including Stan’s—and the golf cart. No rain since it had been dumped, either. Far more of it was loose than ground into the road, which made it an easy enough thing to follow the boy’s footprints.

Right up to the point where the trail stopped.

In the middle of the loose gravel.

No skidding to indicate that the boy had jumped from the side of the road, and no path worn enough in the road yet to hide his tracks. It was as if he’d just dropped down out of the sky and started walking in. Soos turned to look back towards the Mystery Shack, frowning. The sight lines would’ve been fine when there were fewer leaves on the trees, but as it was, the road jogged just enough for the foliage to obscure this part, and Soos didn’t need to look in the other direction to know how the road curved.

As far as Soos knew, a ghost wouldn’t have left any tracks like this, but Wendy had said this whatever-it-was wasn’t a ghost.

Wendy had also wanted to keep the kids out of it, but from what Soos had just seen, the kids were already up to their necks in it. The boy had known their names, and they must have known him, even if they hadn’t yet realized what he was.

So much for a boring summer holiday. Those two didn’t joke about being the Mystery Twins for nothing. Despite Wendy’s best efforts, they were getting sucked into every black hole of a mystery that existed in Gravity Falls.

Well, if that’s the way it was, then the least Soos could do was see if they needed anything.

(see more fics | next)

[johnseedfanclub]

Wip Day

Startin this bad boy up (at least this is an attempt)

Chapter 6(?)

TW: Mentions of drugs, suicide, vulgar language, hallucinations, abuse, vomiting

Angel rose up out of bed with a groan followed by a stretch

“Good fucking LORD” Angel grinded out as he cracked his back “I feel worse than that one time I was injected with fucking ketamine...”

After contemplating his life choices, and considering putting a bullet to his head, Angel managed to drag himself towards the window of his room.

“Hmm. Still out here huh?” Angel grumbled discontentedly “I would’ve hope it was a dream” Angel looked up as if he were speaking to God himself

Angel made his way downstairs and looked around. House was still quiet. There’s no way that she was taken, right? Missy couldn’t be gone. Angel had his own “gifts” but Missy was a trained army soldier, maybe higher than just a soldier. All Angel knew was that she was trained in the army and probably had way more control over herself than he did over himself.

“..Missy..?...MISSY?!” Angel called, walking through the deathly silent home

No...no..this isn’t good...They couldn’t have possibly kidnapped her. She’s a trained professional. She would know what to do in these situations. Angel is more likely to get himself captured and probably nearly get himself, and others, killed in the process. And aside from that, if Missy is gone...what will be of Angel? He is nothing but a ticking time bomb waiting to lose control.

Suddenly the silence was broken as his radio cracked “Ayooooo Angel!!!”

Angel jolted nearly sending himself out of his skin “Who the fuck is that” Angel took out his radio “How did I not lose this shit...” he whispered to himself before clicking the radio “Hello..?” Angel answered back

A voice of happiness and relief was heard on the other side “Angellll! Great to hear you’re alive bud! Kinda heard a lot of ruckus going on back at the bunker since you were....ya know...spotted and all but this whole ordeal kinda died down a bit of course..for now that is”

Jesus Christ who is this guy and why is he rambling at a time like this...it’s too fucking hot and early to be talking a man’s ear off.

“Also uh..Sorry about the whole smoke sesh we had the other day I kinda got a bit too excited and gave you way more than a shoulda..You probably feel-“

For fucks sake.

“Jesus fuck you’re talking way too fucking much.” Angel clicked the radio and it went dead silent. Angel drew out a deep sigh and clicked the radio again “Sorry...Havin a bad mornin...what’s your name now?”

“Oh shit my bad- you’re probably feeling like a dog that got ran over!” Connor laughed on the other side “Probably can’t remember a damn thing either...I’m Connor! The guy you met in the bunker” Connor replied in benevolence

Angel paced in the living room “Connor.....guy I met in the bunker......smoking...” Angel froze in realization “This fucking dickwad-“ Angel clicked his radio “YOU’RE THE GUY THAT TRIED TO FUCK ME UP WITH THAT FUCKING BLISS- BULLSHIT.”

“Woah...hey now I said sorry for that already. I meant good intentions. I would never purposely fuck a gay man over unless he fucked me or my guys ov-“

“GOOD INTENTIONS? I HAD TO FIGHT THROUGH RUGGGED MEN WHILE NOT BEING ABLE TO SEE STRAIGHT” Angel blurted out

“HEY. I WAS TRYING TO BE NICE. TO BE FAIR I DIDN’T KNOW YOU HAD A RECORD” Connor yelled back drawling out the ‘record’

“WHATEVER. Say now....what did you give me. I nearly had night terrors because of that fucking plant. And there’s no fucking way that it’s just weed.” Angel sat himself down on the couch thinking about the nightmares he had last night

There was a silence after that question. Was it that it was a mistake? Should he not have asked? Or hesitation? Maybe there was something in that cigarette-joint whatever it was...he-...Connor had to have gotten it somewhere...this wasn’t no ordinary plant or mix of bad drugs in a plant. This was...different.

“Okay....look. I trust you. But you cannot say this to anybody.” Connor spoke carefully

Gullible for a man who works in a cult

“What I put in that joint was bliss oil and ground up Moonflower....l-look I’m sorry okay...the flower adds to the high and the oil makes it burn longer” Connor had a very regretful tone in his voice. But that didn’t explain what any of that substance was...

“What the fuck is bliss oil? And moonflower...sounds slightly familiar..” Angel said confused

“Don’t worry about it. Can you meet me near John’s ranch later?” Connor asked

“That asshole? Fat chance drug mule” Angel returned with a chuckle

“Ya know you should be nicer. And how do you remember him easily???” Connor huffed, malcontented

“This man has been harassing me the last four months ever since I moved here. I think at that point it’s safe to say he has a rememorable face....a punchable one too.” Angel sneered

“O-oh right....probably not a good place then huh...”

“Of c- didn’t you say that I had a record Connor?”

“Okay okay...I wasn’t thinking straight-“

“Obviously”

“Jesus Chr- DO YOU WANT TO MEET AT FALLS END THEN?!”

“That would be great love” Angel mocked

“Ain’t you a peach...you know...I’m starting to believe what John was saying about you.....hmm.” The radio clicked and went silent

“Oh I’m goin to nick his ears off...” Angel growled “Can finish a sentence but not a fight”

Angel got up after having a moment of planning to beat up Connor later and decided it might be better to head to Fall’s End...maybe after a nap of course.. he won’t have to worry about Connor till later.

Angel decided to head back into his room and throw himself on his bed “Oooh...” Angel breathed out “I have a feeling this is gonna be one fucking day.” Angel drawled out in exhaustion before closing his eyes shut.

"𝒜𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓁..."

Angel had a horrible gut wrenching feeling...that voice...that terrible fucking voice...

"𝒜𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓁...." the voice sang his name in a comforting tone...but that voice was never a comfort to him

He kept his eyes shut...but didn’t know how much longer he would have to for him to go away...it was impossible to ignore something that was so insisting and demanding...

"𝒲𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓊𝓅...𝑀𝓎 𝓈 𝑜 𝓃."

He opened his eyes and saw red. Only red. The walls of his room. Red. The ceiling. Red. Where he slept. Red. The sky. Red. Everything was Red. He immediately felt sick but he couldn’t escape there was no escape. He sat up.

There.

There he was in the doorway. Blocking his only way out. The tall figure that loomed over Angel’s doorway. A Man that Angel could never fight, The Man that Angel fears the most more than anything...anyone in the world

𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵𝓸 𝓢𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓱𝓮𝔃

Angel quickly looked around but realized he was stuck. He was backed into a wall. There was no way he would make it out alive.

"𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝓈...𝑀𝓎 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒷𝑜𝓎." The voice said tenderly moving closer to him

“D-don’t call me that....” Angel moved back to try to move himself away from the Man but there was no use of it. He started breathing heavy. With every step the Man took the more weight he felt on his chest. He started to spiral, every fighting instinct left his body. He felt like a rabbit being hunted by a Lion.

“𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑔𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝑜 𝒾𝒻 𝐼 𝒹𝑜?"

“help...h e l p.” He tried to call out but struggled to get the words out between breaths “somebody help me. get me out of here.”

The Man grabbed Angel’s face and tightened his grip, enough to leave bruises on the skin. All the fight left his body...he froze in horror having to force himself to look in his eyes. Tears started to stream down his face and he whimpered and tried to scream.

"𝒮𝒽𝒽𝒽𝒽...𝓆𝓊𝒾𝑒𝓉 𝓃𝑜𝓌..𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝑒" the Man stroked Angel’s face gently while shushing him like a puppy

“I don’t feel safe around you...I will never be safe or free in your hands....” Angel rasped out, nearly overworking his lungs for air “I will never call myself your son.”

The Man’s eye twitched but he cracked a smile "𝒜𝒽..." the man clicked his tongue before breathing in "𝒩𝑜..𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝒻𝒶𝒾𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝒻𝒶𝒾𝓇" he retreated slightly before taking both of his large hands and pressing them on Angel’s throat, tighting them and he watched Angel panick and try to push him away legging out a crooked laugh

Angel saw his vision fading and slowly going dark. He was trying to fight back but it was a losing battle to begin with. So, he gave up.

"𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓉𝒾𝒸 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝑜𝓃"

Angel immediately woke up and started coughing and immediately felt something coming up his throat. He ran to the bathroom and flipped the toilet cover up and immediately started retching. Fluids poured out of his mouth that burned his nose and throat. And when he thought he was done more came back up. After finishing he was shaking and his head was pounding, tears were streaming down his cheeks and he still felt that weight in his chest. He looked into the toilet and...it was red. He flushed the toilet quickly as the color made him nauseous again not to mention he didn’t even have a chance to eat. It was nothing but bile. Angel sat back. He couldn’t even bring himself to try to speak to himself. So he sat on the floor, trembling....crying. The silence in the house was loud. He has to get out of here.

Angel quickly got up in a panic and washed his face and brushed his teeth, wanting to get that awful taste of bile off his tongue. After he packed his backpack with survival tools and some basic needs to help him out...there...I mean there was just more than one man chasing after him...

He wasted no time leaving after, wiping whatever tears were left on his face, God, he hated looking vulnerable I mean he was already enough..

“I’m never taking a fucking nap again...not until the exhaustion comes over me...”

Angel made the trek to Fall’s End. And though it wasn’t a long hike, it was quiet...almost too quiet.

“Hey-“

Angel reached for his hun and aimed at the sudden greeting

“Woah! Hey now! It’s just me Angel Mary May spoke softly

Angel lowered his weapon quickly in shock ‘I could’ve killed her for Christ sake’ he thought

“You okay love? You seem...different? On edge..?” she spoke with a tone that was almost a comforting as Missy, Bless her heart if she’s still out there

Angel tried to get the words out “....I......uhm...y-yea....kind of...just had a nightmare...no big deal...” he manage to put on a smile that could fool a careless man. But Mary saw right through it.

“Look I know you probably don’t wanna talk about whatever is going on with you bit don’t try to fool me with a smile m’kay” Mary scolded Angel a bit and started walking forward to Fall’s End

“Okay mom” Angel huffed out a laugh “Funny seeing you out here huh” Angel followed after her like a little duckling

“Funny seeing me out here? It’s noon Angel! Did you oversleep again?” Mary looked at Angel teasing him a bit

“Very funny. I was up earlier but was still tired from yesterday so I took a nap......unfortunately it didn’t work out in my...uhm....favor” Angel cleared his throat

“Well why don’t you tell me all about it?” Mary asked curiously

‘This is gonna be a common thing huh...’ Angel thought before breathing out “Where do I start?”

Tagging:

@mrspaigeomega @mrsladydiana @oorah22 @minilev @lilwritingraven @scungilliwoman

[plotbnuy]

KarpReviews - The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

Back when The Hunger Games became a huge phenomenon, I have to admit that it didn’t quite grab me like it did for many. The original film came out on March 23rd, 2012, followed by Catching Fire late next year. These films started a trend of dystopian novel movie adaptations, with Divergent coming out on March 21st 2014, and Maze Runner coming out on September 19th that same year. By the time Mockingjay: Part One released on November 21′s, right after Maze Runner, I’d become a little burnt out on these tales of children fighting for survival against an oppressive system meant to keep society under control. Despite reading the first two books in the series, I didn’t return for Mockingjay. 

That is, until a few months ago.  I decided to give the books another try, and to my delight I grew to really love and appreciate them. Katniss is a wonderful protagonist, surrounded by a surprisingly colorful and interesting cast of characters (even though it still features the classic love triangle trope.) While the first two books were rereads, going in blind into Mockingjay was a treat, and I felt the series had a wonderfully satisfying ending. 

Imagine my delight, however, when I realized that there was a prequel to the series! The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes features a much different entry in the story, taking place long before the events of the main series to highlight the tenth Hunger Games. In order to spice up what is comparatively an archaic and unpolished annual event, The Capitol has enlisted a large selection of students from an elite secondary school - simply referred to as “The Academy” - to mentor the children forced to fight in the arena! Who else should be chosen to be a mentor but a young Coriolanus Snow, hoping to become recognized and attain a university scholarship on his path to becoming President of Panem.

Yes, this entry puts us in the perspective of the infamous Coriolanus Snow, allowing us to see a little bit into what led to the events of the original Hunger Games novel. Not only does it flesh out Snow himself, but also how the titular event became the lavish, intricate, and audacious spectacle depicted during Katniss’s run in the arena. This allows this entry to differentiate itself immensely from the others, allowing it to feel fresh and new while it gives us a better look into the universe we’ve become a part of after three other novels and four films. With that being said, I want to dive deeper into what makes this particular entry so engaging. 

While other entries in the series have a bit of a fluid structure, our story this time is split into very neat thirds: The events leading up to the games, the games themselves, and the aftermath. This time, we get to see the perspective of the games from the capitol’s eyes, as opposed to the districts. However, while the event is massively celebrated, with banquets, parties, tours, and intricate broadcasts during the 74th and 75th Hunger Games, the 10th is much different. It’s much bleaker and more depressing, as tributes are treated like livestock, with no access to good food or proper shelter. Many citizens, District or Capitol, would rather ignore the barbaric event, only bothering to attend The Reaping before returning to daily life. There’s no reward for victory, beyond the singular tribute avoiding death, only to return to the poverty-stricken districts. Tributes die before even entering the arena, leading the games themselves to be swift and merciless. 

Ultimately, this raw and bleak depiction of the games, combined with Capitol citizens not yet disillusioned by the grandeur of future games, still recovering from the war, is a perfect choice for this Capitol-centric prequel. It keeps the citizens of The Capitol that we spend most of our time with from being completely unsympathetic, and it allows for a much more engaging story. Even before the games themselves, many things happen that impact the story, allowing for a lot of tension as things lead up to the main event. 

Speaking of the Hunger Games, this is the first time we get to enjoy them from outside of the arena itself. As the story follows our mentors, we get to watch from their perspective as spectators as the games commence in the arena. This event also happens to be the first where sponsors are allowed to affect the games, sending gifts for the tributes to possibly keep them alive. Since the mentors themselves have agency over the games, they never feel boring as you hope for the survival of our main character’s tribute. The aftermath of the games left me absolutely shocked, leading into a finale that felt unlike anything the series has had to offer before.

Even though Coriolanus Snow is designated as our main character, this story is truly given life by the people who surround him. Closest to him is Sejanus Plinth, a childhood friend who joins Snow in the tribute mentorship program as his classmate. At first, Sejanus is telegraphed as an old rival and a clear foil to Snow, and you suspect he’ll be something of an antagonist given the disdain Coriolanus seems to have for him. However, I was pleasantly surprised as the story paints a much more intricate picture of our main character’s best friend. Their relationship is one of the many highlights of this story, as even when Snow tries to distance himself, or otherwise shows dislike for Sejanus, their paths become forcibly intertwined, and it becomes unclear whether they will become bitter rivals or loyal comrades.

The real star of the show for me is Coriolanus’s tribute, a District 12 girl named Lucy Grey Baird. A member of the Covey, she’s a performer and singer who prides herself in her skill for entertainment. With both Panem and the reader as her audience, her personality and charm is utterly captivating, with an even sharper wit than Katniss. Despite the circumstances, she becomes fond of Coriolanus early on, a fact attributed to Snow being one of the few mentors that goes out of his way to forge a bond with his tribute. She leaves an impression from her very first scene, and every moment with her going forward is captivating and wonderful. Truly, if I had to give a single reason to read this book, it would be for Lucy Grey specifically. Even though her situation seems completely impossible, you can’t help but hope for her victory in the games. 

Of course, there’s always room for a good antagonist, even in a story starring Coriolanus Snow. Casca Highbottom, dean of The Academy, is one of the main obstacles making Snow’s future so uneasy. The story says little about him at first, only that he isn’t Coriolanus’s biggest fan, and that he created the Hunger Games themselves. He’s hard to read as a threat, given his addiction to painkillers and somewhat contradictory dialogue. Truthfully, he’s not much of a villain. 

Enter Doctor Volumnia Gaul.  Serving as the head Gamemaker, as well as an instructor at the Capitol University, she spends a large amount of time with both Coriolanus and the other mentors. Specializing in the “muttations” that her labs create for the Capitol, she serves as something of a mentor herself for Snow, challenging his morals and shaping his ideals. She starts off as seeming like an ally, only for her to show just how dangerous she is. She has a blatant disregard for life itself, only just barely being grounded enough to not be entirely absurd. Her presence gives the story a lot of much-needed tension, and I found her to be absolutely riveting. 

What impresses me the most about Songbirds and Snakes is how it expertly avoids delivering what could have easily come off as a tragic backstory intended to garner sympathy for Panem’s ruthless dictator. Instead, it cleverly highlights Coriolanus’s personality, nature, aspirations, and faults, adding to his character without ever trying to suggest that he’s misunderstood or redeemable. His downfall, while accelerated by his environment, can be attributed entirely to the choices he makes himself. Even when surrounded by good people who genuinely love and care for him, miles away from the capitol, he makes the choice to become who he is: a vile, treacherous, untrusting snake. Yet, despite knowing his fate, there was a part of me that hoped he would make the right choice anyway, making the end of his arc even more effective. 

Suzanne Collins is a truly talented writer. Not only is the original trilogy a fantastic read, but she managed to craft a prequel that both builds the lore of the series and has a major impact on the story as a whole. The connecting tissue between this prequel and the rest of the series is solid, not only fleshing out the world explicitly, but leaving breadcrumbs for attentive fans to enjoy. Upon reading the final chapters, there was a particular scene I couldn’t get out of my head. It wasn’t one within the book itself, but one that harkened forward to Mockingjay. I can picture Coriolanus Snow, eyes focused on the television as the rebels broadcast another one of Katniss’s propaganda videos. He can tell she’s in District 12, walking amongst the rubble of the decimated mining town. He thinks to turn away from the image of the collapsed Justice building and broken town square... until he hears Katniss begin to sing. His blood runs ice cold, every hair on his body stands on end, and in a hoarse, mangled voice, he begins to wail. Every one of his past sins comes rushing back as Katniss Everdeen unwittingly deals the most devastating blow she could ever give to Coriolanus Snow. It’s a scene that remains completely theoretical, and yet it’s perhaps one of the most powerful images in the entire Hunger Games saga. If you’ve enjoyed the rest of the series, then I urge you to read The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.

[seriouslyblacklikemysoul]

Like her - Bucky Barnes [V]

Hello and welcome to the fifth part. Guys, I honestly don’t know where this is heading to but I do know that the next chapters are going to be speeding things up a bit. I you want to be tagger or swing by and give me any kind of idea, feel free to tell me! Warnings: This is a rather triggering chapter. Ptsd, nightmares, a bit of depression-like symptoms. Just watch out. Word Count~3k. MASTERLIST

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

Bucky had never been completely honest with anyone. He was still tormented by his past, albeit way less than his previous days. At first, there were nightmares, so livid he could swear he was awake; he had been screaming in pain, waking up at three in the morning only to find out that he was utterly alone. Lately, he had to deal with sheets tangled up to his throat, a heart rate to match that feeling, but so screams. He had managed to hide his jumpiness at the loud noises, but that was never leaving him – he was more than alert every time a noise was heard. That didn’t come alone, thought; he became afraid of big crowds and small spaces, his breath was hitching and he was going into a shock, or rather a panic attack. But that was accompanying him since his first day into Hydra’s base. It was strange, he thought bitterly. Everyone was blaming him for being the Winter Soldier, but no one was able to understand the dangers he was facing every day after that. He hadn’t had a choice on the matter and when he did, he made the right one. He knew why, though – it was awkward and quite uncomfortable not to blame him for the bad things happened before. No one knew that he was still fighting the same battle, so many years after the first fight he had. He didn’t have a gun this time, because he wasn’t fighting to kill; he was fighting to survive another day. A soldier; that was all he knew how to be. And soldiers, from his experience, were unbroken, strong and a willing tribute to sacrifice. He had learnt to be in line, to do whatever he was told without questioning. It was all a façade; he didn’t know how to be someone else, he thought in terror. What if it was the only thing, he was even good at? Being a monster… She, on the other hand, had no idea how not to be broken. She acknowledged the darkness inside her, a lot easier than him, or at least so he thought. Maybe it was all those traumatic scenarios she had walked through that made her colder. He had no consciousness when he did what he was told to, she was wide awake, with no choice but to kill. It was just like what she had told him. When he wanted to gain grasp of himself, even the broken pieces of that man, he could reach deep down and find the scraps. She didn’t have any scraps. She was created according to their image. And he could see that she was still struggling with the person she was – he knew that pain, not to know which parts were you and which were them. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he got her. He understood her past better than most. He did trust her but he was also not fully convinced that she wouldn’t blow them off for a better deal. After all she had said it herself – people like her didn’t ask questions when it came to money. No, that was too little of him to think about her in that way. She had done nothing that low to deserve him calling her a hypocrite. He guessed that if he was in a somewhat similar position, wanting to find out his parents and to secure a roof over his head, he wouldn’t have any questions either. He was lucky, he thought. He was lucky to have people in his life that actually cared about him, even if they claimed to hate him. He wasn’t alone, he realized a little too late – but she had been for a long time. He had zooned out of reality, trying to understand his PTSD and how to deal with it, that he barely made out a recurring noise from across the hall… where her room was. He didn’t think about it twice, as he made his way towards her – he wasn’t sure of the noise, it sounded as if something was being shuttered. He opened the door, albeit hesitant, only to find her standing in front of the mirror, fists covered in blood, glasses everywhere, eyes tainted red and face… as cold as ice. He wasn’t the only one suffering from PTSD. He wasn’t sure what to do – he had never been in that position before; he had only taken care of his messes and now someone who he barely knew was in danger. Not from someone else, no – that he knew how to handle; but from her own mind. He approached her slowly, not wanting to scare her more, her head turned to him, eyes softening and lips quivering. She hadn’t yet grasped what she had done. She hadn’t been in control the whole time, he suddenly realized. Her demons were much stronger than she had let on. She turned her eyes to her hands, worried about the pain she felt originating from there, only to swallow hard. She had done this; she had broken the mirror; she had hurt herself and she had not been able to stop her nightmares from gaining a grasp on her. She kneeled down to the floor to clean up the mess but Bucky’s hands found her and refused to let her do anything. She couldn’t do anything but let him guide her in another room, through the long hall, to another bathroom. Her mind was registering very few things; the cold metal, the pain from her hands, eyes glancing her way. He was terrified to the point he couldn’t think straight. And so, he slowly sat her down to the rim of the bathtub, as he wetted a soft cloth and cleaned her hands. She didn’t say anything, fully aware of the situation she was in and all the explanations she would have to give. He didn’t ask her anything, just cleaned the blood off of her. He wasn’t thinking, just acting on instinct. That was the moment he realized how fragile the girl in front of him really was. She had almost bested him in a fight but she was taking herself out, little by little. What the hell had happened in her past to make her so breakable but fierce at the same time? She stopped him, almost too gently, holding his hand to a stop. She was slightly shaking but she would get over it. The cuts were nothing major, and the bruises would go away in two or three days. She looked at him, truly looked at him, with no mask on, no wall to hide behind. She had gone past the point of pretending to be someone she wasn’t. She slowly walked up to the sink and rinsed her hands with lukewarm water, while he was not letting her off of his sight. She cleaned everything, wiped her hands dry with a few paper towels because she didn’t want to stain the white towels and threw them in the bin. She wanted to ask him if he had any soothing cream but she just nibbled her lip. He got her and it freaked him out – how effortlessly he was in tune with her. He reached at the top shelf of the small cupboard, next to the door and found exactly what they were looking for. He didn’t hand it to her, rather… he wanted to apply it himself? He wasn’t making any sense out of his thoughts… And then the sad truth hit him like a bus – he could only use one hand to help her. She saw the momentarily pained expression. They were such messes, crying over their pasts not wanting to move on, not really. Or maybe they couldn’t move at all; frozen into places people put them. She took in a rather big breath and extended her hands. He thought she wanted the cream but she made no such move.

“Oh” he let out loud, without realization. She wanted him to help her. And he did, without second guessing. While he was applying the cream, she felt as if she owed him an explanation – and she probably did. “I didn’t want to punch the mirror. I just… nightmares… I’m sorry for… this” she quietly told him. Oh, and he knew, he knew nightmares alright. He was nodding his head in a negative way, until he locked his eyes with hers. She hadn’t seen eyes that clear ever before. She hadn’t seen eyes so impossibly silver before. “Don’t. ‘M not – this isn’t a problem. Just… don’t hurt yourself on purpose again” he found himself saying and he had no idea where that had come from. And he didn’t want to take it back, either. She didn’t dare to look away and that was how they stayed another fives minutes… far more than necessary but so much less than what they wanted. “Thank you” she whispered after a while. He couldn’t smile at her, he was shocked by a lot of things – the fact she was just like him, that he actually wanted to help her, that he truly didn’t want her to hurt herself, that he felt almost like a schoolboy holding the girl… in a way. He couldn’t never, in all of the years that followed, understand that moment. “If you…need to talk, or not, I…” he didn’t finish the sentence but they both knew what he meant. He hadn’t quite realized what he had done. She wasn’t sure he was even saying those things. He hadn’t left her hands and she wasn’t sure why but she didn’t mind the coldness from the vibranium. A side smile reached her lips, a bit sad but no one was accusing her. “I’m here too” she vocalized his thoughts and sealed their unofficial deal with a prolonged eye contact. That was easy – setting her soul on fire. Pain had been such a consistent, unforgettable thing in their lives – they had learnt how to find shelter in harm. He knew that it was almost impossible to not go there and that was why he was trying every day to unlearn what pain had taught him. She let go and with a nod that said more than their words could have ever, she cleaned up the last of the blood from the sink. He would have stopped her but he was in a trance. “Um, James, not to be ungrateful, but I’m hungry and there is nothing inside the house that’s edible” she commented after a minute, leaving him startled. How was it so easy for her to stop thinking about one thing and go on with her life as if nothing had happened… between them… - never mind, he thought. What she had stated, was more than true and he was starving himself. He ran his fingers through his hair… it felt different. Shorter hair and less excuses to hide and procrastinate. He gave it a quick thought and maybe his decision wasn’t the most bulletproofed one, but he wasn’t exactly thinking at that moment… he was rather preoccupied gawking at her. He was about to suggest that they went to town but thank whatever deity was up there, if any, Sam had returned, calling their names, and he was more than relieved – he wasn’t sure why would he say something like that to her. She gave him one last look and went to her bedroom, to change into something without blood stains. He was left startled… what had happened in those moments? She took three deep breaths to calm her nerves – it wasn’t the rush from cutting herself, no. It was his touch and his eyes that left her wondering what the hell was wrong with her. Sometimes she was hit by the overwhelming urge to light a match and set everything on fire. As the smoke escaped her lips and her fingers shook with the badly lit cigarette between her two fingers, she imagined what it would be like to watch as everything she claimed to love burnt to ashes. This city was too quiet, for her liking, for her mind; only the tree branches were making noise and a subtle mention of the sea. This city felt judgmental towards her – it didn’t feel like home but then again… she never had one, how would she know what it was supposed to feel like? Inside her bubble of self-destruction, she had even imagined herself amidst the flames. Hot, fiery lava just erupting out of her fragile bones leaving debris in every corner she would turn. As the embers crackled in the air, she screamed as loud as her decaying lungs. But no, it wasn’t that easy. She was just a spectator, watching as everything she had ever known and could never get herself to love, burnt to a tiny pile of ash. She hadn’t been able to clean up the mess she had made yet – she had just managed to put on a long-sleeved shirt and toss the stained one to the bathtub for later. She wasn’t exactly dealing with her nightmare because… well, it wasn’t just a nightmare. She could ask Sam for help, it was practically his job but then again, she didn’t want him to know. She could ask Bucky too but she didn’t want to go there that fast, not again. Something between them had shifted and it just felt weird and awkward and … no. She covered her hands with the sleeves, only her fingertips showing. That had to suffice because she had no other plan. Her empty stomach was protesting and she gave in. Walking downstairs, she found Sam and Bucky talking about … well, not her, which surprised her. Had he really kept something that big a secret from his partner in crime? Guessing from Sam’s look, or rather the lack of, she thought that maybe he had. Sam’s eyes never traveled to her hands and that either meant that Bucky was keeping her secret or that Sam was too good of a person. Either way, she felt a wave of relief washing over her. “I promised you a shopping spree. Give me ten minutes and we’ll be on our way” he pointed at her with a comical look on his face. She wasn’t sure if two fugitives and a girl would go unnoticed by the entire town but swallowed her protests; she really wanted to get away from that place, even if it meant going to the town. Bucky was surprised by her attitude and composure. “Finally. I am starving” he commented but Sam looked at him funny, raising an eyebrow. “Who told you, you’re coming?” he asked seriously but she saw the hint of mischief gleaming in his eyes. Bucky’s mouth fell to the floor and Sam burst into laughing, shaking his head while going to his bedroom. She was lightly chuckling and his head snapped towards her, so fast she was actually worried about his neck. He recollected his thoughts and appeared stoic again. She hated that everyone around her would act all calm and cold – she needed genuine feelings and happiness, foolishness and lighthearted jokes. The silence was brooding again, and he decided to go and wait on the living room. Great. One step forward, two steps backwards… wasn’t that always the way tango was danced? She found herself trying to decode the house; it was big and gave off this old kind of vibe… she had no idea that the Wilsons could afford a place like that… but then again, there were a lot of damages that needed fixing and she knew, they would probably be there after five years. She didn’t know many things about Sam’s family… come to think of it, she knew almost nothing about both of them. Her favorite place so far, would have to be the kitchen. It was spacious but not vast, with delicate decorations and what would probably be a soft yellowish color, back in the day. Now it seemed gray. Her feet were carrying her towards him and once she realized it, she forced them to stop. Nope, she wasn’t going anywhere near him; he had made his intentions clear. He wanted to be alone, or at least not in the same room as her. And that hurt her in a way she wasn’t used to being hurt. “Okay, let’s go” Sam’s voice broke her spiraling. She wearing a pair of jeans, a gray shirt and a black jacket and thought that she would have looked ridiculous in any other scenario. But… they were technically still fugitives under the Sokovian Accords and she was… well…

Tags: @imlivingliferightnow @tonystankschild @badasseddy

[knight-queen]

Lunatic Parade Yuma Mukami –(Chapter 4)

[Chapter O 1]  [Chapter 2]  [Chapter 3]  [Chapter 4]  [Final] 

一

Place: Tart Tatan , Glimmer Street Restaurants 

Yui: (For now, he told me to get something to eat as I got hungry but…)

Yuma: Ah...how shall we get staaart…

Yui: It was...the one who chased two rabbits didn’t get a single one.

Yuma: Aah...what’d ya mean?

Yui: I meant, it was impossible to get both heart and that giant cake at one shot.

Yuma: Tch...fuck. Don’t just decide the rare things or stuff all for yourself!

Aah, when I feel irritated, it gets on my nerves.

Yui: (I’m aware that I can’t have a gloomy mood but, it’s not impossible to...)

(get back my heart…)

*Running footsteps*

Yuma: Nh? That man is….

The fear store Manager:  Ooh! You’re ‘re after all, I got you!!!

Yui: Good afternoon! Why are you in a hurry?

The fear shop Manager: Details explanation will be later! Anyway, I want you to come with me!

Yuma: Jeez...what’s now?

Place: サントノレパーク通り / Saint Honoré Park Street

Yui: (Shop Manager...he’s running surprisingly fast…!)

Yuma: I knew, the bakers were slow but steady...Yui! Have a look there!

Yui: Eh?

Place: サントノレパーク通り /  Saint Honoré Park Street

Yui: (There’s a curtain in the giant cake’s space…?)

Yuma: Oi, that curtain, what’s that?

Shop Manager: I’ll have you to look at that no matter what. Come on, hold this rope?

Yui: Eh?

*Hold the rope*

Shop Manager: You too! Don’t pull it roughly, okay?

Yuma: Y- yeah…

Shop Manager: Aight, we’ll start counting. Hey, is everyone prepared?

Clown D: Of course!

Shop assistant: Same here, we’re ready!

Shop Manager: Okay then….One, two and ー!!

*Uncovers the cake*

Yui: This is...a new giant cake?

Shop Manager: Yeah, we ended up making one.

Yui: Eeh?

Yuma: However...isn’t it a little different though? It’s huge but the color is also different.

Shop Assistant: Fufu~ there was a lack of ingredients at last. So, we changed it’s usual design, therefore this time is a cheese-cake!

Clown D: For this, the rear car also smelled like cheese~!

Yui: (Wow…!)

Yuma: Heeh~ It means y'all did it.

Manager:  Aah, that was the spirit. Since, it was stolen, so decided to rebake once ‘gain!

You taught us the lesson to never give up. Thanks alot for that.

Yui: No, we didn’t do any…

Manager: Nope, I’m sure, we couldn’t get stirred up all by ourselves like this.

You could face many dangers in order to bring back the cake, am I wrong?

Yuma: Aah? I don’t get it?

Clown D: Ms. Assistant, you can’t hide the truth!

Assistant: Yeah. When you were passing by through the garden shop street...you bought the seedling of the demon-world strawberry, right? 

-> Spoiler! 魔界イチゴ means Demon world’s strawberry literally! 

Yuma: Y- yeah, what’s wrong ‘bout that?

Manager: Demon world’s strawberry has a very complex color plus the taste is very luxurious...but you still wanted to plant it, which is pretty difficult to.

It’s bines completely move like a hitting whips and if the flower blooms, then the pollens are deadly poisoned, in some cases, it is also called devil strawberry.

Despite of these, you still thought you had to grow that...for the giant cake...uuuh *cries out*

Yuma: Tha- that’s right...if it’s me then, it’s a piece of cake...haha…*fake smile*

Yui: (...Does that mean he bought it without knowing anything…)

Manager: Anyways! As you showed up your stubborn side, we also couldn’t give up at all.

Me too, more, more, much more than before! I’ll have pledged to having a warming up passion for making cake!!

Assistant: Thanks to that, we’ve passed a wonderful time...really, thank you.

And also, could you concentrate on finding a rare thing for Earl Walter...for your heart?

Yui: Eh…?

Manager: You told us the time cake was stolen, no?

Clown D: We have been worried~ Could it be that you were putting off your own purposes for us.

Manager: Thank you for all of these feelings...and also you helped us, we were encouraged.

Yui: That’s….same here, thank you.

(The truth’s that….we were the one to break the cake from the very first...but still they cared about us)

Yui: Really, thank you so much.

Manager: It’s aight! You were also in trouble.

Assistant: If everything goes well, then come again for eating the cake. We’ll serve it.

Yui: Ah...yes…

( I see. Everyone’s taking me as a resident of demon-world, not a human)

(It hurts when I feel like I’m deceiving them…)

Selectionー

-> Tell them you are a human /人間だと言う 

 -> Be silent/  黙っておく  (+Correct)

Yui: (I want to say bit, but I’ll end up creating chaos for sure)

(There may be bad people out there and also I don’t want to pour water on this excitement)

*Yuma gets closer suddenly*

Yuma: Yui…

Yui: Eh..?

*Strokes her hair*

Yui: (He’s...stroking my hair…)

(Does he know that I’m being worried)

Yuma: ...You better not say extra words. You gotta lie at this point.

Yui: Yes...got it.

Yuma: Aah--, sorry for making worries! We’ll concentrate on getting heart from here on!

Clown D: Yup, yup, do your best~!!

*Yuma’s BGM*

Yuma: Aight, this time for sure! We’ll protect the cake!

Manager: But...didn’t you hear what we just said? Heart!?

Yuma: Kukuh….unfortunately, I’m not a kind man who’ll just act on protecting the cake, ya’know? Well, I’ll explain my plan.

Earl will be coming to steal this cheese-cake too. Hit it in all newspapers!!

Yui: Ah...I see…!

Clown D: But, will the cake get stolen again?

Yuma: Dumbass, we have no choice but to bring the same topic. This time I ain’t allowed to fall behind!

Protect the cake too and following that, I’ll get the heart back!...make sense?

Yui: yes…!

Assistant: If that’s the deal, then we’ll cooperate too!

We have business in the shop, so it’s impossible to help all the way but...after that, let’s have the vow and help them!

Yuma: Oh! My bad!....This girl looks so overwhelming, so I’ll count on you being super nice!!

Yui: It’s...shameless thing.

Yuma: It’s fine ‘cuz there’ll be our victory from ‘re on.

*After a while*

Yui: (It’s been a long time but…)

Yuma: He’s not showing an appearance. Where’s he, that bastaard Earl!

Yui: (The pedestrian traffic is also less than before)

(I can’t have a guess since the demon world is dark, but to its residents, this time is natural)

Sorry for having all of you gathered here. I’m sleepy for a while, is it okay to get a sleep?

Yuma: No, it’s fine. Same goes for you, are y’ feelin’ cold?

Yui: No, since you gave me a blanket, I’m fine.

Yuma: Noo, that one piece of close won’t work.

Yui: Not really, it’s fi一!

*Hugs her*

Yuma: Stop talking and cling onto me more.

Yui: ...Yes

Yuma: ...kuku, if you think about it deeply, this situation quite looks like a dream.

Yui: About what?

Yuma: Ya’ know...the atmosphere that everyone’s restless, I don’t hate it.

Perhaps it’s been so since I was a lil’ kid.

Yui: Eh? When you were a kid…?

Yuma: In the past...every single day I had to plow the field and that wasn’t fun at all.

The thing I remembered that sloppy circus used to come in the spring festival during the snow thaw time. 

To a brat liked me, it was very interesting show...and I used to watch that like a stupid.

Yui: That’s how it was…

Yuma: It was like a provincial town, so I wouldn’t stay all the time there.

End of the day, that group used to leave, continuing to wave their backs.

“Don’t leave, do it more and more...continue creating this dreamy world…” I wished.

Those circuses always used to come in my dreams...Without even having any realization, I forgot ‘bout them.

For this, when I am in this parade with you, I am having a restless and a strange mood.

Yui: I see, thank you.

Yuma: Haa? Why give me thanks?

Yui: Because you shared an event about your childhood...it’s something to be happy about.

*Yuma blushed*

Yuma: Ha? That...not really, it wasn’t like that.

Yui: Nope, thank you for sharing that.

Yuma: Jeez...well, it’s fine. It’s your turn to share some of your past.

Yui: Yes...I want to share a lot.

Yuma: Kuku, is that so.

Yui, no matter what this place’s, if I am with you then一

Earl Walter: Hahahaha!! Conversations between lovers in one kind of beauty in a parade.

Yui: Kh!!

Yuma: Finally show up!!

Earl Walter: It’s useless if you just stand and watch. This elegant giant cheeze-cake will belong to me!!

Yuma: Wait ‘re!!

*Yuma runs off*

Yui: Yuma kun!?

Look here!! Don’t ya dare to think that you’ll fight the same thing as before!!

Yui: (He is holding a...mop?)

Earl Walter: Kh...don’t tell me this cake…

Yuma: yeah, I’ll make it into a brutal state in no time!

Yui: You...can’t!

Yuma: Shut up! Don’t split out anything!

Yui: ….!

Yuma: Oi, I’ll make you hear me! Give her heart back!

Earl Walter: Haah...that means you want to trade between the heart and the cake?

Yuma: The truth’s that i don’t wanna handle any of those! But...I am sure the guys of the shop will be convinced if I talk to them!

Yui: Yuma kun, but…!

Earl Walter: Pftt...Hahahah!!

Yuma: What’s so funny!!

Earl Walter: I’m apologizing for being soaked in this sentiment, however, there’s no way trade with that heart and just this cake.

Yui: Umm...then, what can we do so you can trade?

Earl Walter: In this area, a valuable thing is…

What about trading with this boy?

Yui: (Eh...?)

Yuma: Ha? Kh...me?

Earl Walter: Someone’s precious person, it has corresponding value right?

To you, he is precious, right?

Yui: …….

(What should I do...if I agree, then Yuma kun will...)

Yuma: Haa...if I go, then she will survive, right?

Yui: Kh...no!

Yuma: But, I’m not valuable at all. Are you targeting correctly?

Earl Walter: Aah, ofcourse. Human plus vampire...very interesting.

Since I haven’t gotten anything like this before...that’s it. I’ll decorate him like a stuffed animal.

Yui: Kh! That’s absolutely NO…!

Earl Walter: Then, will you give up on trading?

Yui: Then fine! I can’t hand over Yuma kun!

Earl Walter: Then, let’s break this conversation here.

Yui: …...Yes.

(It’s good...now)

Yuma: Wait...I get it. I’ll go with you.

Yui: Eh!?

Yuma: ...I can’t give up just for this.

*Yuma knocks out Yui*

Yui: Uuh….!

*Yui falls*

*Screen black*

Yuma: I’m sorry...Yui.

???: O~i! Are you okay!?

Yui: nh...I…

Clown D: What a relief, I was worried.

Yui: Ah...Where is...Yuma kun!?

(Not here...it means he went with Earl)

Clown D: When I rushed into here, I didn’t see him.

Yui: I see….

Clown D: Yes, I don’t know where did big bro go leaving you behind~

Yui: (He told that he will decorate with Yuma...it’s very awful)

(It can’t be…!)

I have to go there. Clown san, where’s the castle of Earl Walter?

Clown D: Bernstein castle? It’s that direction.

Yui: That way...I get it, thank you so much!

Clown D: No not at all~ By the way, *sniffs*...neh, I smell something good.

Yui: Eh?

Vampire Woman A: What is the smell? It’s so delicious…

Vampire Man E:  Aah, I can smell too...hey, is this woman, a human?

Yui: Kh!?

(Smells good, does it mean me?)

(Oh...I get back my heart, by trading with Yuma)

Vampire Woman D: You, it smells so good...can I have a little?

Vampire Man B: No, I’ll be first. Come one, gimme your blood!!

Yui: Kyaa!!

(I gotta run…!)

*Runs off*

Place:ベルンシュタイン城  城門前 / Bernstein Castle  front of castle gate

Yui: Haah...haah…!

(This is bernstein castle…)

*knock*

Yui: Excuse me! Please open the gate!

Give back Yuma kun!!

(I gotta get their attention quickly or…!)

*Running footsteps*

Vampire Man A:  Here she’s!! That woman!!

Vampire Woman A: Hey, lemme suck first!!

Vampire Man D: Nooo, me first! Hey you, come here!

Yui: Kh...No, don’t touch!!

*Knock*

(Please, open…!)

*Soaring*

Vampire Man C: Hm? Something’s flying? A giant bat…

Vampire Woman C: Hey, come here, won’t you!?

*Eagle’s flying*

Yui: (That’s...the egg we wanted to get in the mine, the giant mom eagle?)

Vampire Man A: Kh, this woman is a wild-...wild-animal-tamer!? Run!!

Vampire Woman D: Kyaa-!!

Yui: Why….

I wanted to do a terrible thing with you...but you helped me?

Thank you...kyaa!

(It’s rubbing my back...does she want me to ride?)

Vampire Man B: First of all, we have to deal with that eagle!

Vampire Woman D: Beat that at first!

Yui: Kh...please, fly away!!

(Let’s cling onto her...I’m sure it’s gonna be fine….!)

*Flies*

Yui: (Kh...I could be thrown off)

Vampire Man E: Oi, you can’t escape! Shoot it and make her fall!!

Yui: Fly higher…!

Place : Sky

Yui: ( Wow...she has reached higher in to time)

(It’s fine if she left me inside the castle)

(I don’t know she’ll understand my language, but let’s request)

Would you mind if I get off in that castle?

There’s a person there whom I can’t lose...please!

*Flying to that direction*

Yui: Kyaa!

(Diving down...I'll collide…!)

Place: ベルンシュタイン城  バルコニー / Bernstein Castle Balcony

Yui: (...Huh? It doesn’t hurt?)

Waah, wait, I’ll get off.

*Gets off*

Thank you for helping...you can now go back to your eggs.

(Maybe that cake has already hatched out? It was good that I gave back the egg couragely)

(He forcefully stole my heart but now he simply exchanged it, how weird. So, I can’t give up at all.)

(So two of us can escape together...for now, I have to search him first.)

Place: ベルンシュタイン城 宝物庫 / Treasure Room of Bernstein Castle 

Yui: (Waah...wonderful, all of these are Earl’s collection?)

(Glittering stuffs and also slightly creepy things...there are so many)

(I’m sure each of the owners of these treasures cherished a lot….I can’t forgive him.)

*Foot steps*

Yui: Kh…!

(Looks like someone’s here...I have to hide!)

???: Who’s there?

Yui: (Eh...this voice)

Yuma...Kun?

Yuma: Yui…?

Yui: Yuma kun!

Yuma: Why are y’ ‘re? That’s even alone...it’s dangerous!

Yui: Giant mom eagle protected me all the way and brought me here.

Yuma kun, why’d you go all by yourself? It’s awful!

I couldn’t help it...even if I helped all the way, I won’t be satisfied at all.

Yuma: Haah...Not really, I just paid back everything you did, that was all.

I told you that if you cut out your own purposes and think only ‘bout others, it’s comeout like this!

Yui: Kh…

Yuma: Of course, I didn’t do it just with a single inference.

My real intention was to help you, no matter what happens to me.

I really don’t care about the strangers but if it’s you then I can’t lose.

If it means to help you then I’ll overwhelmingly put myself into a fire...even though you’ll be sad.

Yui: (I can’t say anything back...he was always holding sorrowful feelings for me)

(Despite of then, I... was just acting on my own)

Yuma: Did you understand the feelings of the guys you left behind?

Yui: Kh…

Yuma: I’m asking if you understand their feelings when they were chasing after the person who was risky flying!?

*Yui cries*

Yuma: ….Now, crying out will be a foul game.

Yui: Because….uuh…

Yuma: If you’ve learned by this experience, don’t you ever throw out your life away, got it?

Yui: ….Yes...uuuh….

Yuma: Aah, you’re making an ugly face. Don’t just stand, c’mere.

Yui: Eeh…?

Yuma: You come to steal me from Earl, no? ...Kukuh, what ‘bout catching me then?

*Yui blushed and then laughs*

Yui: ...Yuma kun!

*Runs off*

*Fades to CG*

Yui: I’m sorry…

Yuma: I’m tired of hearing your “Gomennasai” Say something different.

For example “As a punishment for acting on my own, I’ll let you suck blood as much as you can” etc.

Yui: Yes...I’ll let you, no matter what’s the amount.

Yuma: heeh? You say it after all.

Yui: Because I got my heart back, and sure my blood will taste ー

Yuma: Haah...Stoppu! I told you that I don’t care ‘bout the taste. Don’t go against it.

Yui: But...you were the 1st one to say that “I want to suck your blood”

Yuma: Oh, well...I didn’t say for it’s yummy taste...I want it, because it’s your blood.

Don’t misunderstand.

Yui: Yes…!

Yuma: Kukuh...you’re finally making such a happy face just ‘cuz I’ll drink your blood. You can’t escape from these fangs anymore.

Yui: ...I don’t want the fangs, what I want is just to stay by your side.

Yuma: Haah? You also said it before…

Yui: It’s something to give back.

Fufu

Yuma: Well, I’ll forgive today.

Yui...let’s stay together forever.

Yui: (These gentle eyes...put me at ease)

(Stay with me all the time, Yuma kun)

*CG Fades*

*Claps, Claps*

Yuma: You dumbass!

Yui: Earl Walter!?

Earl Walter: Hahahah, you did really wonderful.

Yuma: Haa? What are ya’ saying?

Earl Walter: I thought you guys will be the perfect to possess the treasure.but...I didn’t think you’d do that far.

Yui: What do you mean?

Earl Walter: Sometimes it’s charm confuses humans and leads to misery.

...Vampires are deceived and end up going to a wrong path, the same goes with your heart.

So you and your partner are the appropriate owners of this heart. I was the judge.

But, it was needless to be worried. If your mutual bond continues like this, it’ll be fine.

Yuma: Tch...Without even yer words, it’s obvious to be fine!!

I mean, it’s still fishy. You make everyone unhappy for that cake.

Yui: (Certainly...everyone was having a smiling face…)

Earl Walter: Aah, I ate that cake as much as I could.

Yuma: Haaah!?

Earl Walter: I lost my interest in the cake so I returned it back to the forum. As I thought, a suitable amount is important. 

Yui: (So that was his purpose….I’m somehow disappointed.)

Yuma: I get it but not get it. When I speak with bastards like you, I wanna hit so bad. Anyway...see ya.

Yui: But, how can we get back…

Yuma: We’ll fly from the balcony...I want to have you in my arms for a while.

Ya’ can’t get separated.

Yui: ...Yes!

-> Continue

一 The end of Chapter O 4

[microcos-pod]

Micro-Cosmos S1E7 Transcript: Miraculously Misplaced

(“Hello world. This is Chronicling Log One, of Doctor Felix Augustine Couvillion.” CONTENT WARNINGS: yelling, peril, brief claustrophobia, mentions of unreality, paranoia, and the fear of going insane.  Transcript begins below break.)

[THEME MUSIC PLAYS]

ANNOUNCER Futuristic Trail Mix Productions presents Micro-Cosmos: A Science Fiction Podcast.

[THEME MUSIC FADES OUT]

*** [sfx: external storm ambiance echoing through the cave, button press]

FELIX Um... hello world. This...This is Chronicling Log One, of Doctor Felix Augustine Couvillion. I am the science officer on duty with Omnitarian Establishment Crew, erm... zero three... no, we're um...

Zero-one-three-seven-F. Yes. It says so right here.

You'll have to forgive me. Ordinarily, when I make these recordings, they're for my own notes, or for my scientific peers. I am not used to simply... documenting the goings-on, especially... my goings-on... when confined to a cave.

According to Athena, this is for a chronicling protocol called a Code Drag. It refers to, if memory serves, a distress situation without a contingency that, at present, makes mission objectives impossible to complete. That is to say, we have been "dragged" off course. There is no contingency plan for a cinderburst. Cal says they're too rare to even warrant such a thing, nor is there enough research to determine how one could occur here. If these storms supposed to be characteristic of desert terrain, however, I would say Ophiuchus is hardly a suitable candidate. Not that I can research such a claim when I have no signal to reach any external databases that could be of help. No, that would be too easy.

Instead of that, what I do is I sit inside of a cave, talking to myself, and try to avoid going... slightly mad. If I wasn't there already, of course. I wonder how Athena manages it.

For the sake of my friend, however, I am sucking it up and beginning with these entries. I've been procrastinating for long enough, so, I will see to it that I make this log faithful to its purpose, and as honest as I can manage. I'll start with a caution, though. This cave is dull, even considering what you would expect from a cave, namely: not much. For that reason, I'm afraid I cannot guarantee you anything riveting, my dear listener. Consider yourself to be warned.

So, I hear you ask me: What have I, Doctor Felix Couvillion, been up to, now that myself and my friends have spent about... oh, a day and a half inside a damp, cavernous lair of darkness? You ask me, 'Felix, what are the Tales from the Tunnels? The Stories from the Stones? The Accounts of'... a, a, um... a cave. The cave, which I'm sure I will have memorised every vein of by the time daylight decides to reappear.

In short, I've been working. Making note of the vegetation in here, and how it might help us. I've found a new variant of fruit-bearing vine, actually. Edible. Similar to a terran gooseberry. It will make for a decent snack, once my trail mix finally runs out. A sad day, that will be. Somehow I don't find this discovery as exciting as I should. The Commander, she tries hard to keep our morale afloat, but... you know. It hasn't been long, and somehow, I already feel as though we are... contained. Stuck in some version of a time capsule, and... preserved until the next moment we are meant for is to resume.

[Felix sighs.]

FELIX (CONT'D) There's no wildlife in here, as of yet. No water either. That makes sense, on paper. The fact of the matter is that carbon-based animal life needs water. Including us. In a worst case scenario, our current water supply wouldn't last us. So, I either solve this problem, or we all slowly die of dehydration, sucking the juice out of vine berries as a last ditch attempt to survive. Yeesh. Not a pretty picture, hm?

Which is why I will make my third trek to scout a potable water source this afternoon. If I'm able to find room in my busy schedule Oh! In between my rounds, though, I have found something to pass the time-He stops again. This is... what a chronicling log is for, yes? Cataloguing however our time is spent inside an unavoidable disaster?

Sure it is. Anyways. I have... wait for it... I have rediscovered my love for card tricks! And I can still manage to do them, too. It's like it never left me, in a way. Like riding a bike for the mind. Or, as Morgan once put it, riding a bike for nerds. Here, I'll show you. ...You can’t see me. Dammit. Well, let's try it like this, then. Were you here, dear listener, you would shuffle the deck. You would pick a card, only in your mind. And then, you'd give the deck back to me, and after a series of convoluted detours through what seems like a magical process, the card would end up in your pocket, a place it certainly shouldn't be. Ta da! Okay, okay, a magician shouldn't reveal his tricks, I know. But I can't contain myself, so I'll give you a tidbit. I forced a card on you, at the start. You thought it was your choice. It wasn't. It was, likely, the Ace of Dishes. Good card. I'm fond of it. It's an interesting thing, that trick. According to the logical part of your brain, the card should be in the deck, with the rest of its friends. It’s family, if you will. Your eyes told you it should be there, and so of course, you're expecting it to be there. Or were you? That card, from the second you or I chose it, when you saw it, and we convinced each other that it was special, or different, the, hm... well, the zeitgeist of the situation told you that by the end of the trick... that card wasn't going to be in it's rightful place. It wasn't going to be like all the others. It was going to be... miraculously misplaced. In reality, the misdirection relies on both expectations. It needs the voice of reason, and the voice of the little child inside your brain that really really really wants magic to be real, just so it can stir a whit of joy. In my experience, though, most things in life that are misplaced from where they belong, it's... not a good situation. Take our example. One looks down at the flowers for a moment, giving the storm just enough time to sneak up and tap him on the shoulder, and... Abracadabra. Misdirected... misplaced from mission objectives. This kind of thing... does not bring much joy, does it? That's my insight, anyways. And that's about as much as I can fill a Chronicling Log with, for now. I'm going to check up with the others. Um, Doctor Felix Augustine Couvillion, ending Log One.

[sfx: button click]

***

ATHENA ... That's a dog?

MILES Yeah. It's supposed to be! Like... bark?

ALEX Sorry, I... honestly thought it was supposed to be a sock puppet.

MILES Sock puppets don't have ears!

ATHENA ...An ear?

ALEX That's an ear?

ATHENA I mean I figured it was an animal of some kind, but-

MILES I never claimed to be good at shadow puppets, okay?

C41 Clearly.

MILES Cal, you don't have tangible hands, you don't get an opinion.

C41 At least I know that dogs aren't that long.

[sfx: approaching footsteps]

ALEX Yeah, actually, kinda... looks like that little cat thing that bit Felix.

FELIX It was a spray, not a bite. That makes it sound a lot more gross, actually.

[Alex claps her hands.]

ALEX Nice to see the party's finally here!

FELIX Hm? "Party"? That's new.

ALEX Did you bring the deck of cards?

FELIX Of course.

ALEX Then you're the party.

[Felix laughs.]

ALEX (CONT'D) Where've you been?

FELIX Recording my first chronicling log. I figured an update on my perspective was in order.

ATHENA Oh, good, thank you. How'd it go?

FELIX Um... well, I think. A bit meandering, maybe. Not anything special.

ATHENA Honestly, however they end up going is fine. It's just a matter of getting an account from everyone of how they're doing and what's going on. That's all I really have to do, most of the time. You'd be surprised how useful a ramble is when you have it on file. What did you meander about?

FELIX Oh just... you know. Something that I've been brushing up on. Here, I'll show you, actually.

MILES Sure, just share your talents with the class I guess.

C41 This should be interesting.

[sfx: unboxing and shuffling playing cards]

MILES What is this?

FELIX It's a card trick.

MILES A card trick...

FELIX Correct. Can I have a volunteer?

[Athena, Alex and C41 respond positively.]

FELIX (CONT'D) Miles, thank you, so kind of you to volunteer.

MILES My hand was not up.

FELIX Here, shuffle these.

MILES Ugh. Fine.

[sfx: cards shuffling]

FELIX No, don't give them to me! That's against the rules.

MILES Oookay. I'll keep em.

FELIX You're thinking of a particular one, I can tell.

MILES Uh... sure. Six of stars?

FELIX No, no, that's not it. Come on, this one only works if we convince each other that it's going to work. It was a low card, something... special.

MILES Low, and... special? Like an Ace?

FELIX It was an Ace?

MILES Yeah. Yeah, an Ace.

FELIX But not the Ace of Stars? We've got Planets, Comets, Dishes and Stars, but... How about you pick two of those, Officer Abbott?

MILES Dishes and Stars.

FELIX We'll keep the Dishes and the Stars then, and get rid of the other two. But it wasn't Stars, so the Ace of Dishes, then?

MILES Yeah.

FELIX The Ace of Dishes was the first card that came to mind, you're sure?

MILES Yeah.

FELIX Perfect. Athena, could you pick a number for me? It could be anywhere between, er... one to ten.

ATHENA Seven.

FELIX Seven. Very well. Miles, can I have the deck back?

MILES Oh, that's allowed now?

FELIX Of course, don't be silly. Now, I'm going to pull seven cards off the top of this deck that Miles shuffled and, well... we'll see what happens.

[sfx: cards being drawn from the deck]

FELIX (CONT'D) One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

Oh... dear, that's not it.

MILES Jack of Comets. Figured it wouldn't-

FELIX Indeed. Wait, Miles, what's that?

MILES What's what?

FELIX In your shirt pocket.

[sfx: an emphatic rustling and card flip.

FELIX This?

MILES The... Ace... of Dishes. Wait.

[Athena applauds.]

[Alex laughs.]

ALEX Hey now, how the hell did you do that?

FELIX Ah, ah. Magicians. Secrets. You know the rules.

ALEX I bet Cal knows.

C41 I have... an idea or two, but I'm not exactly sure, really. Nice job.

FELIX Thank you.

MILES I don't know how you did that. I am going to find out how you did that.

[sfx: lots of movement]

[Indistuguishable frenzied comments from the crew.]

***

[sfx: echoing footsteps, very distant external storm ambiance.]

[sfx: button click.]

FELIX Doctor Felix Augustine Couvillion. Recording Chronicling Log... Two, I suppose. Though it hasn't been long.

I had to escape from Miles's endless, somewhat terrifying questions. I fear those will be a common occurrence from this point on.

Anywho. I am currently... well, I don't know exactly where I am. My analog compass says I am southeast of our campsite, which is just outside the entrance to the tunnel system. But, I'm not so sure. You would think this little gadget would be unaffected by the storm, but the cinderbust seems to be acting on all of our other equipment as if it were somehow a geomagnetic storm. This, of course, may mean it is confusing the compass needle as well. 

So I'm not sure I can trust in that bearing. What I do know is, I took a left. So at least I have that to go on.

I did promise the Commander that I wouldn't stray too far from the camp when I'm alone. But I'm not alone. I'm on the hunt for a source of water, and I'm taking you, whoever will listen to this, with me for the journey. So technically, I'm keeping my promise, while getting results. Hopefully. Hopefully getting results. It isn't like I have any real reason to be concerned about my safety. Like I had mentioned, there have been no encounters with wildlife as of yet. Then again, I've been wrong before. It would be just my luck to end up being wrong again. But, I survived Mercutio, ergo, I could likely survive anything. The little devil.

[sfx: flashlight clicks on]

FELIX (CONT'D) Let there be light.

Ah. It appears we've reached a choice to make. Hm. Left... or... right. I'd rather not go in a circle. Right it is.

Left, then right. Left, then right. Left then... right. Okay.

So, anyways. I hadn't had any previous luck taking a right initially, where I first chose to go left. My left. Not... upon return- never mind. I know what I mean. I hadn't gone too far that way, in any case. 

Only today did I figure out the loophole in my promise, and... in terms of balancing my very busy schedule, I figure that it's best not to spend all my time fretting over dehydration. Going prematurely mad is not in my plans.

There are some interesting mineral formations on the ceiling. It may be worth taking a sample to submit on my way back. They're a sort of bluish-white, and they seem to form in hexagonal clusters, about three to four centimetres in length. Quite pretty. Pretty enough to understand the appeal of geology, if only for a moment. No offence to geologists, of course.

No luminescence is visible from the formations. My torch is the only current source of light. I suppose luminescence would have been too much to hope for. It is... rather dark, this way. Miles wouldn't like it. I don't think Miles likes many things, come to think of it. There's a grumpy individual if you ever did see one. But, a decent traveling companion when the mood strikes them-

[sfx: walking stops]

FELIX (CONT'D) Dead end. Hm. I'll make a mental note.

[sfx: footsteps resume]

FELIX (CONT'D) That's annoying. Back the way we came, then.

It might have done me good to bring Cal along. Most of their functions may be, er, rusty, at present, but they still have the sensors for these sort of things. Or perhaps I should have brought the Commander. Navigations, and all. Eh. I'm still not too far. And I have you, don't I, my trusty comms friend?

Even if you're not one for conversation. The brooding type. Strong and silent. I can work with that. And I can be fairly sure that I'm-

[sfx: footsteps stop suddenly]

FELIX (CONT'D) What?

[A long silence.]

[Felix swallows and chuckles nervously.]

FELIX (CONT'D) Well. I... must not have been paying attention as well as I'd thought.

I've just... I've just come up against another dead end. Where I thought... no, where the entrance to this passage should be. Where... where it just... was.

It can't have just... filled behind me. I would have heard the crash.

Right?

Same tunnel. Same... crystals. Perhaps a bit more on the indigo side that I had originally noticed. No more, or, um, less lacking luminescence.

Alright, er... Perhaps I took a turn and passed it. I'll retrace... my steps. What you're looking for is always in the last place you check, right?

[sfx: footsteps]

[Felix breathes shakily.]

[sfx: sound of distant running water fades in]

FELIX (CONT'D) Do you... do you hear that? That sounds like...

[sfx: the water sound recedes, replaced by storm ambiance]

FELIX (CONT'D) Sounds like... wishful thinking.

No, I could've sworn. I could have sworn. I'm not mad. I'm not.

FELIX (CONT'D) Don't you look at me like that. You're a bundle of wires and metal. You're not capable of going mad, only getting broken.

I... I wonder which is worse.

[sfx: a draft blowing in from the right side]

FELIX (CONT'D) Well. I... hadn't noticed that before. There's an offshoot path here, in between... I suppose in between dead ends. It must... it would have to lead deeper into the cave. I can't... This doesn't make any sense.

[Felix struggles to look inside the narrow path.]

FELIX (CONT'D) I can't make out anything inside. Very dark, but... But there's a draft. Meaning... it must lead outside. No daylight, however.

Well, of course there's no daylight, Felix. Remember why you're here in the first place.

[sfx: the draft stops unnaturally abruptly]

FELIX (CONT'D) Well, that doesn't make any sense, now does it?

The wind from the passage seems to have... turned off. Just... just like that.

I should just go back the way I came. Yes. That's what I should do.

[sfx: the sound of running water resumes]

FELIX (CONT'D) Wait... is... am I hearing that right...?

Not right now, thank you. I could do without the difficult decision.

Fine. Fine! Fine then, I'll just...

[He struggles further to get inside the path, with a few laboured mutterings.]

[Felix pants.]

[sfx: water droplets hitting the ground.]

FELIX (CONT'D) Yahtzee.

[sfx; unscrewing a thermos, letting water drip inside]

FELIX (CONT'D) I'll have to ensure this is potable, first. Or if I can make it potable. I'm sure it will be fine... Either way this is a good sign for our continued survival.

[sfx: extremely loud shifting of rock]

FELIX (CONT'D) What in the... What was that?

I've got enough of this to test but... The only problem is, I don't know that I could find it again. I... almost certainly don't know where I am.

[sfx: another creaking shift of rock]

[Felix gasps and exclaims.]

FELIX (CONT'D) What... I'm sorry, I just... felt a shift there, it startled me.

There's obviously an explanation for this but... I don't think I'm in any state to continue this trip. I need... I need to get back to camp.

[sfx: footsteps resume]

FELIX (CONT'D) Next time, if I ever come back this way, I'm bringing someone with me.

[sfx: running water fades out]

FELIX (CONT'D) Wait, uh... where... but I had just looked through...

I can't see that passage anymore. Where I got the water. Can you?

Of course you can't. I'm talking to myself. I bet no one will ever even listen to these. It isn't as if you care. You let this happen in the first place, sent us somewhere new without contingencies, and I'll bet you still don't feel responsible.

It's there. You can't see it from this angle, but it's there, you just can't see it in the dark.

[sfx: extremely loud stone creaking and moving]

FELIX (CONT'D) I need to go. I need to... I need to leave.

[sfx: running footsteps]

[Felix pants.]

[sfx: footsteps slow and stop]

FELIX (CONT'D) Left or... right? I swear, this doesn't... what was that goddamn sound?!

No. No, you shouldn't hear this. Am I transmitting, or... is this a recording-

[sfx: comms click]

***

[sfx: comms click]

ATHENA -were just looking for you.

FELIX I know, I know, I lost track of time-

ATHENA Alex was worried sick, we thought we heard you yell-

FELIX Well, that's very kind of her, but I-

ATHENA Felix... are you okay? Did something-

FELIX I'm fine.

ATHENA Okay.

Next time, maybe, take one of us with you. Or at least tell us when you'll be back.

FELIX Sure, sure. In any case, it was a success.

[sfx: unscrewing a thermos]

FELIX (CONT'D) Water. Fresh. Hopefully potable.

ATHENA That's great! That's a relief. Okay. Where did you find it?

FELIX Oh. Heh. Funny you should ask, actually.

ATHENA Oh?

FELIX Yes, I... see I was fine, but along the way I got a little... lost, it wasn't anything to be concerned about, but... I may have a little trouble finding it again.

ATHENA Oh.

FELIX Ah, but, don't worry.

I kept the recorder running.

ATHENA Uh... well, that's good. It definitely makes my job a lot easier.

FELIX Well, yes, and I... wasn't alone.

ATHENA Right.

FELIX And! And, perhaps if I give this a listen, it would help me figure where I got turned around. Nothing a second journey won't fix.

ATHENA Not alone this time.

FELIX Not alone the first time because I personified my comms but... yes I see your point.

ATHENA Well, let's give it a listen, then.

FELIX Okay. Okay, okay, okay.

[sfx: button pressing]

FELIX (CONT'D) It should be my most recent... input, let's see here. Ah. There.

[sfx: button press]

RECORDING FELIX Doctor Felix Augustine Couvillion. Recording Chronicling Log... Two, I suppose. Though it hasn't been long.

[sfx: a sudden click, lasting static]

ATHENA Um, Felix?

FELIX ...Yes?

ATHENA Was that the end of the recording?

FELIX No. Definitely not.

ATHENA Then why... did you stop talking?

FELIX I didn't stop talking, I kept it running the whole time, I only turned it off just before I saw you!

ATHENA Something must have happened, then. Can I see it?

FELIX Sure, sure.

ATHENA It doesn't look like a corrupted file, in fact, everything seems to be working fine. Out here, at least.

Maybe the storm messed with your comms too, somehow. Or maybe... maybe there's some good conductors in the stone too, deeper in the cave, that could have thrown off your signal, or...

FELIX Or it could have been my own fault.

ATHENA It happens to the best of us, Felix.

FELIX Well, finding that source again just got infinitely harder, didn't it?

ATHENA Maybe? I don't know. Either way, we have time before that search becomes urgent, and, at least we know it exists. Hopefully we never really have to worry about it at all.

FELIX That doesn't make it any less frustrating, though, does it?

ATHENA Well, technology is wonderful, when it works. I appreciate the fact that you were recording anything for me at all, I know that code protocol can be a pain.

FELIX Well, strange as it sounds, I'm glad these protocols exist. It makes it seem like an effort is being made to keep things sorted, I suppose.

ATHENA Keeping our ducks in a row?

FELIX Precisely.

ATHENA Well, I can only hope. I've never had to run a crew-wide chronicling operation before outside of a drill. I was hoping I would never have to.

FELIX One narrator of this comedy of errors should have been enough?

ATHENA Precisely.

Anyways, do you want to head back to camp now? Everyone will want to know you're alright.

FELIX They were really worried?

ATHENA Of course they were. Alex wants her ducks in a row, too. An odd one out wouldn't be good for us.

FELIX Like an Ace of Dishes.

ATHENA Only, we were pretty sure you weren't in Miles's pocket.

[Both laugh.]

ATHENA (CONT'D) Here.

[sfx: footsteps]

ATHENA (CONT'D) This way.

***

FELIX Chronicling Log of Doctor Felix Augustine Couvillion, third part.

It's past evening now, into the night. I think the others have gone to bed. Yet, it appears that I can't sleep. Something about today unnerved me. There is no explanation for my confusion, except my own anxieties, my paranoia, what have you. I know that.

I know that in the same way I know that the walls of a cave don't move around you. Not unless you are very patient, dead, or mad.

In my case, the jury is still out on the latter.

A planet isn't conscious, it isn't sentient, it shouldn't know who I am.

And yet, there's nothing left of that recording to even tell you what I mean. All that's left is how I remember it, and that perturbs me.

Here's the thing: I can tell myself that I lost my way in a dead end simply because I am afraid of what happens when I turn my back. But if I deem that fear a sound rationalization... then I may have something to evaluate. A time of soul-searching, hopefully. In the company of a snack.

ALEX Yikes. Deep. Make sure you have your coffee first.

FELIX Commander! Where did- I'm sorry, I thought you were asleep with the others, did I wake you-

[Alex laughs quietly.]

ALEX Shh, shhh! Athena and Miles are still asleep, I was just... I was... never mind.

[sfx: Alex sits down.]

ALEX (CONT'D) You recording?

FELIX Er, yes. As redundant as it may seem. 

ALEX Redundant?

FELIX Yes. Just between you and me, boss? I doubt anyone will ever listen to these.

ALEX You really think so?

FELIX The good folks back at headquarters tend to overindulge on bureaucracy. Efficiency is prioritised to the detriment of efficiency.

Perhaps the duty will be passed on to an Artificial Intelligence like our friend. I suppose that works just as well.

ALEX There's the silver lining I was waiting for.

FELIX Oh, don't rely on me for that.

ALEX Why not? It's worked so far.

Case and point: that card trick was probably the silver lining of my day. And I still have no idea how you did it.

FELIX Really?

ALEX Really. No clue. Unless Miles was in on it, but I seriously doubt that.

FELIX I can show you.

ALEX Yeah?

[sfx: rustling through a bag, cards rustling, flipping and shuffling]

FELIX Certainly.

Now, the first thing is, Miles didn't pick the Ace of Dishes. I did. And then I convinced them that they did. And convincing Miles Abbott of something is probably the hardest part of any trick, so if you can manage that... this next part is quite easy.

ALEX The next part is the actual trick, you mean.

FELIX The convincing is the trick. If you can't even convince yourself that you can do it, make a card do something miraculous, how are you going to convince the people watching?

ALEX Good point. Teach me.

FELIX Very well. So it looks like this, when we actually do it. Pulling it out of a pocket.

[sfx: card flick]

FELIX (CONT’D) But really, we're just folding the card behind quickly as you flick it off the bottom of the pack, like that, and then... you cup it into your palm when you reach out. It never leaves your hand.

[sfx: the same card flick, but slower]

[sfx: a card sliding]

ALEX Oh. Ohhhhh, okay! Gimme one.

[Felix laughs.]

[sfx: passing Alex a card.]

FELIX Give it a try.

ALEX Okay... so... take it from the bottom of the... deck, and then-

[sfx: a similar card flick, a similar card slide]

ALEX (CONT’D) Like that?

FELIX Yes. Exactly.

ALEX Alright. Alright, okay. So... from here...

[sfx: a quick card flick, a quick card slide]

ALEX Like that?

FELIX Ha! You picked that up quickly, sir.

[sfx: repeated flick and slide of the card performed by Alex]

ALEX I can do more than play Go Fish, Couvillion.

FELIX That's for certain. It's double trouble for the rest of the crew, in any case. Two magicians are better than one, you know.

[sfx: card sounds stop]

ALEX Oh, man. Miles is going to hate this.

***

ANNOUNCER Micro-Cosmos: A Science Fiction Podcast.

This episode, Miraculously Misplaced, was written by Lauren Tucker, edited by Luka Miller, and directed by Jesse Smith and Lauren Tucker. It starred Jesse Smith as the voice of Athena Romero, Jackson Rossman as the voice of Miles Abbott, Luka Miller as the voice of Alex de la Cruz, Kaleb Piper as the voice of Felix Couvillion, and Pippa van Beek-Paterson as the voice of Cal. Original music by Julia Barnes, and sound editing by Tobias Friedman. Be sure to stay tuned to our feed for upcoming episodes from the new backpacking intergalactic adventure from Futuristic Trail Mix Productions. Enjoying the show, and want to give us a boost? You can support us by rating and reviewing us on iTunes, or wherever you get your podcasts, or telling a friend about us. To follow the show and find transcripts, you can find us on Twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram as @MicroCosPod. Questions, comments, and concerns can be emailed to us via futuretrailmixpros@gmail.com. Thank you for listening. ***