#the desire to kill myself to run away from this turmoil

[graevs666]

do u ever just find continuous signs tht ur not meant to be here

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

give me 2 lifelines

Loki Laufeyson x female reader x Nuada (SMUT)

Anon asked: I don’t know if you’re familiar with Prince Nuada from Hellboy but I was wondering if you could do a piece that’s Prince Loki and Prince Nuada fighting over Fem Reader but end up sharing her. Lots of angst and NSFW content. I love a good sub/Dom dynamic. It would be AMAZING if you could whip something up 😊🥰❤️

SMUT AHEAD, 18+, sir/king kink, threesome MMF, dominant vibes,ah, you know the drill

!WARNING! THIS IS MY FIRST THREESOME WRITING IF IT'S BAD, PLEASE, BE GENTLE WITH ME! (p.s if you like it support me with a KOFI)

I am not the best at grammar so if there are any mistakes, sorry! Now, enjoy!

"Tell me about him."

"About who, Loki?"

"Your past lover with the fairly peculiar name."

"Nuada? Why?"

"You said his name yesterday in your sleep, dove."

"Sorry."

"Why for? Now, was he comparable to me?"

She giggles "A little. He held himself to the same elevated royal regard like you."

"Oh."

"But that was his downfall."

"Oh..."

"That was years ago. I am certain he forgot about me. I love you."

"I love you too, princess. However, you are untrue about one thing."

"About what?"

"Whoever you cross paths with, you leave an irreplaceable print on their lives. I am sure that Nu-a-da feels the same."

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

"Nuada..." her words echoed off the magical glass and into his ears picking up the sad tone his eyes picking up only the cold wall he faced. "I am leaving. I need to go back Hellboy told me that being in this world is bad for me I need to go back to MY home. I will NOT see you again."

He stands up seeing the form of his former lover disappear in gold flakes with his hand raised. "Y/n.'"her desperate name befalls off his lips.

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

Nuada stands up walking towards his today's visitor, his twin sister. Nuala. "Brother." he retorted "Sister."

Her hand reaches her chest. The thin fabric mashing into her narrow fingers. "I feel a tremendous distress from you."

"Ha, that gloom followed me when you betrayed me for the big red rock." he argued his attitude spiteful.

Nuala shakes her head "No, this sadness is beyond comparison. Unexplainable." she refuted moving closer to the shield her hand on the magical glass."This is heartbreak. For a certain being." Nuada's eyes gazing at her eyeing her mouth "For a human girl." His eyes twitched.

"That is forgone now. My actions are-" she cuts him off "-Are empty. Wanting nothing more than to have her back your arms wanting to do to everything and comprise everything to be with her. Since no price is too imperial for her."

"Enough!"

His turmoil echoed in the cell his kin standing her hand moving through the glass, his eyes cleared in shock.

"You could have run but you didn't, your powers exceed far more than mine. But you stayed for her, to pay the dues and to show in front of her a new creature. A new man how the humans would say."

Nuada walks striding out of the cell inquiring her with a breathless "Why?"

Nuala only cackles giving a minor shudder "Go... Find her."

Nuada steps off the stairs and moves out of the prison. His silver hair lifting off in the air that breezed through the long stands she caressed each night before they slept. His eyes that Y/n swore were made from molten gold searched into the area searching for his swords. His steps falling silent as he hears a small swish of magic, he turns to find a portal laced with green hues. He looks at the portal seeing no one only hearing the faint whisper of someone he yeared for.

"I am telling you. Bruce would manage to lift the hammer if he was in the elevator. No one can change my mind."

Y/N.

With no attending thoughts in his brain, his legs strode in front of him and into the portal that lured him so deceivingly in. The thick air that resided in his lungs was no more as he saw the same room he used to sneak in. The same cabinet he stubs his toe too many times and the small long mirror that was placed on the wall in front of the bed. He was here. Nuada was present in Y/N's room. The door opens and he sees her... and she sees him as the loud clang of swords fall from his pale blue hands. Y/n's steps coming to a halt. In front of her stood the former lover, the hair she kissed and braided was now much longer almost touching his buttcheeks the high cheekbones still current as ever the same markings on his skin stayed.

"Nuada? Wh-what are you doing here?"

She doesn't know how to acknowledge knowing that her present lover will come by any time soon. Her mind belonged to Loki. But what about her heart? Was there still room for Nuada to stand proud in?

"She told me to see you. She felt my eternal heartbreak that was left between us."

He steps closer, his hands reaching for her, her holding hands daily not yet remembering how rough he was. Y/N froze. There was no better way to explain it. Her brain worked overtime like a hamster in a wheel while her heart thudded in her ears and throat.

"I don't know what to say. We broke up. ever since you went to prison."

"I want to remove that, that memory. Seeing your face in vast anguish was something never I desired for."

Y/n flinches as her hands move away from his. Retorting with a small sigh "Still, we can not be together, Nuada, I am from a different world. Remember what Abe said:

"If you say here for too long your body will not manage to live here. It will kill itself slowly and who knows maybe that portal which you travel through will not open one day and you will lose all your loved ones."

"You can not stay here Nuada. You need to go back."

She wanted to shift away but his warmth and his authentic hands gradually and agonizingly pulled her in, her head resting on his shoulder. They stayed like that in silence while Nuada explains himself "My jewel, will you let me rewrite the wrongs of my life? Will you let me come back in and try to find the peace that you carry within you. I am lost without you?"

Y/n derides as her hand nudges against his chest tears probing outside of her eyes "What do you think felt like? When I came back after you were taken I had to rebuild myself, my job which I lost as I was traveling too much between realms and had to mask it. I had very bad thoughts that took a toll on me. you cannot ask for me to 'open my heart and welcome you with open arms. If it wasn't for Loki-"

"-Who is Loki?"

"My current BOYFRIEND. My lover."

Nuada footed back not even thinking that maybe she moved on with her life and found love with another. He didn't think how much damage he did to her heart that was already harmed.

"And who are you, stranger?" Loki's voice stirs through Y/n's ears and Nuada's, as well as both of them, turn to the god himself.

"Loki!" Y/n moved towards him already fearing what he thought "Nothing happened, I swear."

His finger reaches up to her cheek caressing the supple skin as she leans into his warm touch momentary closing her eyes. Not going unnoticed by the long-haired creature himself. "I know, lover. It is alright." he strides past her walking towards Nuada his green suit being slightly knowledgeable to Nuada.

"Have you-" "I assure you stranger, we are meeting for the first time. What is your name? What are you called?"

"Prince Nuada."

Loki swivels to Y/n "So that is him. dove? Perplexing..." Loki gazes at the creature noticing his marks on his body while his hand points to the marks "Are you a warrior? A bad one?" he grins seeing the small twitch in Nuada's eyebrow.

"I have spoken before my title is that of a prince. And what are you?"

"I am a God."

Loki walks back to Y/n holding her hand in his own bringing it up to his lips giving it the small peck she needs to zone back into reality and feel the gravity of this situation.

"Shall we?" "Yes..."

Nuada gazes and he feels the words jump out "I WILL DO ANYTHING TO BE WITH YOU, MY JEWEL!" they both halt turning to look at the elf "My pride is nothing compared to that to be kissed by your lips and to be filled by your love."

"Nuada, please... Stop this."

Nuada was a dominant creature of pride his name was not to be said without a shiver running down the spine of the person who said his name. The dangerous exterior and the harsh demeanor changed as Nuada kneeled, his pride stowed away not to see the light of this day.

"I still love her. She STILL possesses my heart."

Loki chuckles while he resolves, holding Y/n's hand

"What can we do about it? She has my heart as well."

Y/n subsisted in surprise staying between two of the same coin not already feeling the familiar tinge of arousal going through her body. Loki turns to Nuada indicating with a grin.

"Let us share her."

"Loki!!!"

He turns back to her kissing her lips saying in a bare hum "What else do you want me to do dove? You can see who much he IS willing to go through just to have a taste of your nectar. We can stop if that is what you wish for."

Y/n gasped out feeling Nuada pressed flush against her backside his hand traveling across her back.

"No."

"Then it's determined."

Loki looked at Y/n flushed eyes her iris almost despairing while she felt Nuada's long lost lips on her neck kissing and attending to her every carnal need she was deprived of. Loki took no more than a second to unbutton her shirt as she moaned at his cold fingers "No, use your magic." she barely managed to say it.

Loki takes it into account snapping his fingers as Y/n's, Nuada's, and Loki's clothes despair off of them leaving them naked. Nuada snatched her back onto the bed letting her softly sit down as Loki went behind her letting her rest her head on his abs. Nuada one more kneels looking solely at Y/n's

"May, I taste you, my jewel?" she nods as Nuada lets his lips open his tongue coming out and landing softly at the bottom of her folds tracing slowly up hearing her moans that he missed dearly. Loki kept an eye on her seeing her head drop against his stomach her eyes shut closed while her nipples begged for him to attend to them. His hands glided down giving her a message turning the nubs softly following the rhythm of Nuada's pace. As Nuada went up he found the one thing that gave her the nickname she carries for him his finger gently removing the fold and showing her clit "My only jewel." he mused seeing the deep red blush on her cheeks her eyes squinting not wanting to show her full-blown eyes his lips land around her clit sucking the delicate nerve bundle pulling slowly back giving her more depth to her passion. As her moans filled the room, Nuada HAD to rut his hips into the edge of the mattress wishing for just some sort of friction he craved for. Loki was nothing different either.

Y/n could feel his tip at the bottom of her head hard and quivering in rhythm with her moans each of the being anguish.

"I am close."

Loki answers sternly "Nuada, stop."

Nuada obediently ends peeking at the God, knowing he needs to play nice or otherwise he won't feel Y/n around him. "Let's fill her. Would you like that my beautiful Queen?"

"Yes." she rasped out "Yes, what?" "Yes, My King."

"Now, turn on your stomach. Nuada, we will swap our positions."

Nuada asks trying to hold still some ropes of authority "When will I feel her?"

Loki walks to him grabbing his chin forcefully "You, prince, will have your turn but for now, you will get her sacred mouth. Do you mind that Y/n?"

Y/n shakes her head between the power play that was in front of her "No."

Nuada kneels on the bed seeing Y/n beneath him, his cock twitched wanting nothing more than to take her and kill the god that was playing the power play over his royal birthright. Loki stood at the bed seeing her slick wet and pulling, taking his member into his hand pushing in, giving Nuada the head nod as Nuada places his cock in Y/n's mouth feeling her tongue beneath his cock while he slid further down listening to the audible gag reflex.

Y/n didn't know how to explain being throat fucked by a former King of Elf's and being fucked by a God of Mischief, feeling her both holes stretched with no remorse... And thriving in the fantasy.

"Can I move, pet?" Loki begged as he hears the audible Mhh from the bottom of her mouth. Jerking back from her pussy the tight walls would want nothing more than to hold him inside as Nuada continued to feel every inch of her mouth.

"Now, ah, Y/n your rule. You are not to cum until myself and Nuada cum inside you. You understand?"

At the command, she felt a powerful shiver in her body as rather of her voice her body replied as she became wetter at the demand. Loki chuckles as he looks at Nuada seeing his hand in Y/n's hair griping guiding her to a pace he knew she could take.

"Are you alright with that, Nuada? Having her being filled by mine and your seed."

"Yes. I can't wait to see her filled with our milk."

A few more thrusts and the men that were subdued at her body came. Y/n trying to hold in her orgasm. Loki pulls out feeling the cold air on his warm cock. While Nuada pulled slowly seeing her mouth full with his cum her eyes teary.

"Thank you... Sir," she said as a small smile was on Y/n's face. Loki looks at the two of them chuckling "She is all yours, Nuada." Loki and Nuada once more switch places as Loki attentively wipes the mix of drool and saliva pushing it back into her mouth giving her a sloppy kiss.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, my King." she smiled. Nuada feels inching his cock to her folds pushing in. Her walls clutching at the tip he halts feeling the mix of Loki's cum and her own giving him silenced in. Closing her eyes she feels Loki's hand travel past her breasts, stomach and halting at her clit playfully flicking it.

"Loki!" she cries as the nerves shock her. "Do you like it, while play with your jewel while Nuada is thrusting in you, hopefully breeding a child in your womb, Y/n? Do you like it? To have a child and to share it with me and Nuada as fathers?"

"Yes!!! Nuada, fill me up well! Places!" the level she stooped to screen to out she didn't know she had it in her. Nuada thrust feeling her pull him only further in her walls clutching him for all she is worth. Loki pulls his hand back seeing the tears stream down Y/n's cheek.

"Do you wish to cum pet?" "Yes!"

Loki looks at Nuada seeing him give a nod and he responds "Then cum."

One more time and y/n doesn't see her lover only a white light as her orgasm rolled out of her. Talia felt Nuada ruts his hips into hers and as he slowly pulled out she felt full and replenished with their cum something filthy felt so powerful.

Wow, need holy water on my eyes. thanks for reading. tell me what you think. Hope you liked it.

[adorerdraco]

Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 2

PART 1

Summary: PART 2  ! of Draco falling in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP) and dealing with the consequences of opening his heart to someone. 

Warnings: angst !!! but just a little fluff as always, BLOOD, violence, more crying, very detailed sectumsempra scene, mentions of death

Words: 4.9K

A/N: omg i can’t believe so many people liked the first one and to everyone who left me a comment, I appreciate you so much you have no idea plsss you guys are so beautiful. but here is part 2 and I hope you guys like it as much as the first oneee !!!!!!!! this one got dramatic. I’m thinking of doing a part 3, but I’m not sure and i also want to make it be mostly fluff so PLS let me knowww <3 i do not own gif. 

It was an awful feeling; the feeling of needing a specific someone to bring him a peace he so very much lacked in his life. It was a feeling of not being able to feel joy unless he had you by his side. He felt stupid and pathetic knowing he had made an even bigger mess of himself and regrettably of you. He felt more weak too, wondering to himself why he couldn’t stop crying and do what he needs to do without several potions or you with him to get him through the day. 

He didn’t want to need anyone. He didn’t want to need help. He didn’t want to need advice.

“Why can’t I just do this?” he cried to himself one night in the room of requirement, kicking something by his foot across the floor in frustration. He stared at the dead bird in hopelessness, not wanting to move it from its spot in the vanishing cabinet. He had managed to send inanimate objects, but not living things and that was only a discovery he was able to make when you were still in his life.

It had been weeks, since he left you under the tree, broken and in tears. He regressed back into to his old ways of lacking proper self care, of sleeping and eating, his studies being the last thing on his mind, him distancing himself from his Slytherin friends again. It was right back to square one, maybe even below that this time.

In Potions, he didn’t dare look at you, ever. He moved to a seat in the very back of the class where he would be hidden from you and could sulk to himself in peace.

“Mr. Malfoy, forgive me as it is none of my business, but why are you no longer working with Miss Y/L/N?” Slughorn asked him one day as he came by to grade his potion.

“It is nothing of concern, Professor,” Draco answered bitterly, holding back the scowl that wanted to show but deciding against being any more rude to authority. “I just rather work by myself.”

“It’s a shame, Mr. Malfoy, you both were my star pupils,” Slughorn mixes the potion around, eyeing it with a frown. “Now the both of you are falling behind. This potion is not passing, you forgot to mix in the dried periwinkle leaves.”

Draco never noticed how you would glance at him throughout Potions class. Of course, he was ignoring you and you felt that nasty realization every time your eyes landed on the platinum blond.

You felt numb, to say the least. You cried for days and days on end. If you weren’t in class, you were in your dorm, wrapped underneath the covers wondering why someone you shared so much love and time with had dropped you with no explanation. You tried endlessly to get him to talk to you, cornering him in the corridors, going up to him in class, but he would ignore you until you went away. He never once met your eyes, and your heart broke more every time you saw the coldness in his icy gray’s that made you feel like you didn’t even exist to him.

Your roommates and friends had gotten involved, forcing you to take better care of yourself. Staying up and hugging you while you cried. Bringing you meals from the Great Hall into the dorm. Brushing your hair when it started to become matted. Encouraging you to divulge yourself in studies rather than your sadness.

“Y/N, you are so much more than what you’re feeling,” your closest friend whispered to you one night as you cried in her embrace. “You can’t keep going like this. It’s okay to cry and be sad, but this is eating you up. Remember how strong you are. Remember the healer you are trying to be. You’ve helped so many people, inside and out, let your friends help you now.”

You nodded sadly, and finally accepted the help your friends had been trying so desperately to give you. You allowed them to take you out into the Great Hall again for meals. To Hogsmead for a fun day out. To the courtyard where you guys would sit and just talk. It was nice, feeling your old and normal life coming to light again even if it was just for a couple hours. But when you couldn’t sleep at night and your mind wandered off to Draco, you felt that same empty feeling of a gaping hole in your heart sting at you. 

There was nothing you could do or say anymore. The cornering him was getting desperate and made you feel weak. The ignoring was never going to stop. You didn’t cry anymore, forcing yourself to bottle up your feelings for him deep down into your mind, body and spirit to the point where you just tried your best to recognize him as a dream. 

Your brain didn’t know any better, right?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Draco sat on the floor of his dorm, head resting against the side of his bed as he twiddled with the letter from his mother between his fingertips. His owl, Aquila, sat beside him and enjoyed the loving pets he was giving her with his other hand. It was rare she let him do this, but he figured it was because she felt that he might have possibly needed this. She nibbled on a crumb of a biscuit he gave her that she had brought with her on her journey from home. Draco sighed and opened the letter again, his eyes scanning over the perfect cursive of his mother’s handwriting once more.

My Dearest Draco,

          How are you, my love? I feel as though we have gone too long without writing to each other. I must say, the Manor feels lonely without you and your father here, but the house elves have been keeping me company. They are quite entertaining, some of them. I do hope you enjoy the small pastries I sent with Aquila that the elves also send on their behalf. 

I know the pain you are feeling, my son. I know it wears at you and I am deeply sorry that I cannot change it or help you. Please do entrust in Professor Snape, as he is the only one who can help you and understands your circumstances. You cannot get through this alone.

Please also remember that you are just a boy. In these times of turmoil, it is easy to lose yourself in your own despair. You are young, Draco, only 16 years of life and it has already failed you. Please find it in your heart to locate the little several joys in life that keep you going. Despite your situation, It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there. Do not succumb, it is what he wants. 

I will always love you, and I hope to see you soon. 

All my love,

Mother

He felt tears sting at his eyes, clutching the letter to his chest as if his mother had charmed it with the feeling of a hug. It wasn’t, but he swore he could feel it. He felt sad, knowing she was all alone in that house, but suddenly remembered that his aunt was seeking refuge with her at the Malfoy Manor and his mother left it out for the sake of keeping Bellatrix’s location secret. Seeing as she was a maddened Ex/Present Death Eater and escaped prisoner on the run. The thought of Bellatrix left a bitter and foul taste in his mouth, making him feel even worse that his mother was stuck at home with that beast who was nearly as bad as the Dark Lord himself. He didn’t care that that was her sister, his aunt, she had no empathy for anything, especially not for him. He recalls her telling him right before he went to school, that he should be grateful and honored for being entrusted with a task so important.

As much as Draco wanted nothing to do with his tasks, he didn’t ignore them. He begrudgingly let Bellatrix teach him Occlumency, something he desperately needed to learn and was now a little good at. He had even tried convincing himself that he needed to do this. It was all up to him. He was chosen for this. He hated it, but he was chosen nonetheless. And he would try with everything to save his family and to make them proud, even if it killed him.

He ignored the thoughts of his aunt and his dreadful life options, refocusing on the words his mother wrote to him. They echoed in his mind, imagining her saying them to him. 

“It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there.”

His mind wandered to you, knowing full and well you were are the one and only joy in his life he so deeply desires. His mother’s words hit him hard, to the point where he almost ran out of his room to go look for you. Almost.

But he was stubborn and still couldn’t pull himself out of the mindset he had boxed himself in where he thought being with you would be worse in the end for you than not being with you. 

So he went over to his desk, Aquila following him before flying up to the wooden surface where she perched herself in front of him as he sat down and pulled out a parchment and quill to begin his responding letter for his mother. He thanked her for the pastries, told her he would try his best in confiding in Snape, loosely promised he would fulfill her wishes of him finding some happiness, and gave her his love. He gave the letter to Aquila, smoothing the feathers on the top of her head one last time before she chirped and flew to the window and then out of his room and into the open dark starry sky. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

More weeks had gone by. And then a month. You were seeing less and less of Draco and for a healing heart, it was the best thing for you, but also the worst. He had even began skipping class as much as he could, not that anyone ever noticed, except you and Slughorn of course.

“Miss Y/L/N, may I have a word?” Slughorn came up to you while you were working on a potion with your friend. The same friend who had given up her seat to Draco who she now despised and regretted ever doing in the first place. She gave you and the professor a look before getting up and heading to the front of the class where she began to pick up vials and jars to store the potion.

“Of course, Professor,” you answer with a polite smile.

“I spoke to Mr. Malfoy about a month ago, he seemed rather distraught,” he began, placing a finger over his chin in thought. “I’m beginning to grow worried of the boy! Is there a reason he’s no longer showing up to class?”

You swallowed thickly before responding, “your guess is as good as mine, Professor.”

“Ah, well, one mustn’t pry too much,” he says. “Also, I’m pleased to see your marks improving in the last couple weeks. Keep up the good work, Miss Y/L/N.”

And with that the professor turned around and left to go check on other students, your friend returning.

“What’d he want?” She asked, setting the supplies down on the table.

“Wanted to know about, Mr. Malfoy,” you mocked quietly, your voice turning bitter when the name left your lips. 

You knew Draco’s disappearance was your fault and you felt that twang of hurt beat against your chest thinking about it. That whole conversation with the Professor killed your entire mood. It wasn’t great to begin with, but the feeling of nothing had turned into hurt. 

You were roughly stirring the cauldron, preparing to put the nearly finished potion into the two large jars so it could sit overnight. They were right beside your arm and you felt your elbow collide with the glasses, cringing internally when you heard them crash onto the ground and shatter. Luckily there was nothing in them, but you had still made a mess of glass. In your heat of embarrassment and with the people are you now staring at you, you forgot you could easily clean up your mess with magic so like a klutz, you instead bent down to pick up the shards of glass that scattered the floor with your bare hands.

A loud gasp left your mouth as you began to pick them up, feeling the largest piece of glass in your palm deeply slash the skin of your hand. You dropped it, feeling the blood begin to drip down your arms and onto the floor.

“Oh no, Y/N,” your friend sighed from above you, gripping onto your other arm and lifting you up. “Are you okay?”

The question was meant for your hand, but you felt it hit your soul just as it did whenever someone asked you that question when you were so overwhelmingly not okay. You shook your head no, the pain from your hand and your heart taking over you completely as tears began to trickle down your face. 

Slughorn came up to the table, waving his wand over the mess of the floor and fixed the damage done to the vases and making the small puddle of blood disappear.

“Class is dismissed, students, you are free to go to the Great Hall for lunch,” Slughorn announced and everyone quickly packed up their things and hurried out except for you and your friend. The full-bellied Professor watched you with concern and you turned to your friend where she took your hand in hers and placed it palm up for you.

You shuddered, bringing up your wand to the cut and simply thought your healing spell before watching it completely fade into a faint light pink scar.

“I’m going to explain to Slughorn what happened and put away our stuff,” she says to you, a sad glint in her eyes. “Go clean yourself up and I’ll meet you at our table for lunch with everyone when you’re done.”

You could only pathetically nod before you slung your bag over your shoulder and trudged off into the direction of a bathroom. You decided to go up to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, wanting to be alone from everyone so you could clean yourself up in peace and also have a meltdown. You didn’t know why you wanted to torture yourself with the ghosted memories you shared with Draco in that bathroom, but you still went. 

You took your time getting there and you were only down the hall when you saw the entrance. It was then when you heard a familiar ghastly screaming and wailing. It was horribly loud.

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!”

Moaning Myrtle floated from the large wooden double doors, screaming so loud it ricocheted off all the walls of the now deathly silent castle. You felt all the blood drain from your face as an awful and sickening feeling had bubbled in your stomach.

“It better not be Draco,” you said to yourself, your legs taking longer strides towards the bathroom. “Please, don’t let it be Draco.”

By now, you were sprinting towards the end of the corridor, throwing your bag to the floor as soon as you reached the doors and flung yourself through and into the destroyed bathroom, stepping into a pool of water that had streaks of crimson red. Your eyes followed the trail of blood, stopping suddenly when you found the source.

A blood-curdling scream twice as loud and stronger than Myrtle’s, left your throat as you tripped over your own feet to reach him. You saw Harry Potter, standing a little ways by the door, a panicked and pained look in his eyes as he tried to understand what he had just done. 

Once you reached Draco’s nearly lifeless body covered in angry red gashes, you fell next to him, his eyes finally meeting yours for the first time in ages. He was breathing raggedly in choked grunts, clutching at his mauled chest as he struggled to breath. The stormy eyes you loved so much were clouded in fear. Nothing but fear.

You shoved your hand into your pocket, searching for your wand and pulled it out hastily. You shakily waved it over his cuts, thinking and saying any spell you knew that came to your mind in the matter of 5 seconds. This was what you did. This was all you did. Why couldn’t you heal him? None of your spells worked.

“I, I can’t heal you,” you sobbed, resorting to putting your hands over his chest at a failing attempt to stop the bleeding. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“n...o,” Draco said weakly and quietly. He mustered up all his remaining strength and placed a bloodied hand over yours, you grabbed it tightly and leaned over him when you realized he was trying to speak. “S-sorry. lo...ve. y...ou.”

It felt like there was a knife in your chest being repeatedly stabbed into your heart and twisted. His eyes closed and you cried harder, knowing you were going to lose him. Everything was happening so fast. You had only been in the bathroom a solid 10 seconds, everything around you moving in a slow blur but so quickly.

It was as if Merlin had answered your pleas, the sound of the door slammed open and a maddened looking Snape rushed inside, pushing Harry roughly to the side and looking down at Draco and then you only momentarily before dropping to his knees beside him and opposite of you.

“Vulnera sanentur,” he began running his wand over the cuts on Draco’s chest and you watched with wide teary eyes as the blood pooling around you began to retreat back into the wounds. He said it again, and once the blood was back in, the cuts began to close. He chanted it one last time, and the cuts had healed into thick and reddened scars. “Miss Y/L/N, please help Draco over to the hospital wing for some dittany, and quickly please. We might be able to help with the scarring, perhaps avoid it completely. I need to deal with, Potter.”

Draco was half conscious, a dazed and confused look in the gray of his eyes as they fluttered open and closed. You noticed the scar beginning to form on his paled face and you bit back a sob. You knew if that scar stayed there, it would only drive him into a deeper hatred for himself.

You quickly got up, Snape picking up Draco and throwing his arm over your shoulders so that you would be able to help him over to the hospital wing which luckily happened to be a hall away from the bathroom. The adrenaline and sheer love for the boy was pumping through your body which had made you feel stronger in basically carrying Draco through the halls. He was dragging his feet, mumbling incoherently and you couldn’t stop crying.

You saw the doors to the hospital wing open, Madam Pomfrey staring at the scene heading towards her in horror. 

“DITTANY!” you called to her. She threw open the doors wider, nodding before she ran back inside in a hurry. A passing seventh year Hufflepuff had dropped all of his books and his bag and linked arms with Draco’s free side, helping you take him inside with much more ease. Madam Pomfrey yelled to rest Draco on the nearest bed and she quickly returned with the dittany, shooing the both of you away from him.

“I’m afraid the two of you are going to have to leave, immediately,” she demands, her hand reaching up to grab the privacy curtain before shielding her and the love of your life from you and the prying eyes of shocked students gathered at the doorway to see what had happened. The Hufflepuff that had helped was already out the door, but you couldn’t bring your legs to move.

“Away from the door!” McGonagall suddenly appeared from behind the crowd of students, a disgruntled look etched into her aged skin. “Return to your house’s common rooms! That goes for you too, Miss Y/L/N.”

She gently placed both her hands on either of your shoulders, guiding you outside the door and out of the hospital wing. She gave you an empathetic glance before grabbing the handles of the doors and shutting them with a loud clang.

The lingering students stared at you in discomfort and grimaces. You looked around, still in a daze and then looked down at your body. You were drenched in blood and water, looking straight out of a horror movie and closely resembling the clothing of the Bloody Baron, Slytherin’s house ghost.

Everything still felt quiet and slow. You didn’t even notice your friends rushing towards you in hysterics, throwing you in hugs as you only stood there, unable to react. You let them pull you away, leading you to your house’s common room, tripping every now and then. You caught a glimpse of Moaning Myrtle in the distance, her cries still very loud and apparent. She had gone around the entirety of Hogwarts wailing the same news that had broken you, only this time you heard the new choice words she had added along the way.

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER! HARRY POTTER HAS MURDERED DRACO MALFOY!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You sat immobile on the edge of your seat besides Draco’s hospital bed. Much to your surprise, Madam Pomfrey had allowed you to stay overnight with the fallen Slytherin Prince. You recognized it might be her way of paying you back from all your countless volunteering and because of that, she trusted you in knowing exactly what to do when it came to the medical field of the wizarding world.

It was around three in the morning, the incident having happened well past twelve hours ago. You were showered now and in a fresh pair of robes, your pajamas holding in your warmth as a cold draft flowed throughout the dark dimly lit room. The hospital wing was tall and large, it felt like a castle in itself, and it only made you feel more feeble. You scooted your chair closer to the bed, placing a hand onto the mattress right next to Draco’s paled slender hand.

Fingertips ghosted over his knuckles, your body shivering at the closeness of the near contact. You didn’t know how he was going to react when he woke up. It was all a waiting game, and your heart squeezed with anxiety as you awaited his regained consciousness. You didn’t forget the words he said to you right before he slipped away. They rang and rattled in your head like a pinball game on loop.

He had told you he loved you.

The thought of him dying and you never being able to tell him you felt the same haunted you. You thanked Merlin that Snape got there when he did. You also made a mental note to hex Harry into the oblivion the next time you got a chance. 

You sighed deeply, your voice quavering as your ran a hand through your tangled hair. His face glistened under the orange lamp on the bedside table, his skin tinged with a grayish undertone and his eye bags deep and dark. The scar you had seen on his face earlier was gone, the skin now just holding a skinny reddened line going across his features as if he was just hit with something. You smiled slightly, knowing it would be gone in the morning and feeling grateful for him that he wouldn’t be scarred with it.

His body was covered in a hospital gown and bandages infused with dittany, but seeing how bad his cuts were before they healed, you knew those would leave something behind no matter what. In your studying towards becoming a Healer, you read about the effects of dark magic and the marks it left behind on its victims. You didn’t know what spell had done what it did to Draco, but it was violent and radiated with darkness. 

The softness of his his skin was met under yours, your hand finally allowing itself to fall over his and you let out a sharp exhale at the touch. It wasn’t like earlier when you were holding onto him for dear life, rough and filled with fear and pain, this time it felt familiar. It felt warm despite the coldness of your skin and his. You shook quietly, another set of tears rippling through your body as you tried your best to not wake him. You sat up and slowly leaned over him, looking down at him to observe his peaceful features. He slept soundly and peacefully, his breathing even and quiet. Even though he almost died earlier today, he looked as though he was having the best sleep of his life. The sleep he gravely needed but seemed to never be able to get. 

Your free hand softly rested on his cheek now and you carefully moved your lips towards his forehead where you placed a long kiss. A stray tear had fallen onto his skin as you pulled away and you frowned, wiping it away with your sleeve before moving your hand up towards his hair. You smoothed it back, the soft blond strands feeling like silk between your fingers. He was a dream, an angel to you. You stood by what you had told him that unfortunate day under the tree, he was good, and you would tell him again and again until he believed it himself.

Just as you pulled back from him, a sharp gasp erupted and he shot up in bed, grabbing and tearing at his gown as breathless quick pants fell from his lips. 

“Hey, Draco, I’m here, you’re okay, relax,” you coo gently, grabbing his hands and holding them tightly in yours so he wouldn’t tear his bandages. Your heart battered against your chest, the waterworks in your eyes beginning all over again. He stared at you, searching your eyes and he began to cry too. The same broken and deep sobbing from months ago you had grown accustomed to hearing. 

He threw himself onto you, crying even harder as his arms wrapped around you, his hand on the back of your head pressing you into his chest. You climbed into the bed in deep shaky breaths so that you were now sitting on your knees between his legs. It was overwhelming, to put it lightly, both of you crying into each other as you remembered the fall out, the lonely days and nights, the wasted opportunities, the endless missing of one another’s presence in their lives.

“I’m sorry,” Draco chokes out. “I never meant to hurt you. I thought that by pushing you away, you would be safer, but I can’t do it anymore. I need you, I love you, Y/N.”

You cradled him in your arms, rocking the two of you back and forth, and you shook your head reverently.

“I forgave you the second I thought I was going to lose you,” you respond quickly. “Merlin, Draco, you scared me to death. I thought you were gone.”

The same words from his mother echoed in his head again and he finally understood what they meant. 

“It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there.”

Darkness was going to arrive one way or another, it was going to steal the rest of whatever life he had left in him one day. It was out of his hands, out of his control. The time to live his life was now. Because he didn’t know when he would ever have this opportunity of love again, of safety, of light. Everything was undefined and unknown and he felt the anguishing regret of all his decisions when he had seen you in the bathroom hovering over him with a hopeless look in your eyes. He promised himself, to Merlin and to the sun, the moon and all the stars that in the 1% chance that he survived that close call with death, he would never abandon you again. His heart pained at the memory of him trying to sputter out his final ‘I love you,’ not knowing whether or not you heard it or if you understood how genuinely he had meant it.

The room was only filled with sniffles and shaky breathing, both of you still in the same rocking position, afraid that if you let each other go, the other is going to disappear.

“Draco,” you say, lifting his head up from the crook of your neck so that he could look you in the eyes. “I love you, too. More than you’ll ever know. Please don’t ever, ever leave again.”

“Not in a million years, darling.”

PART 3

[chil2de]

Hi just wondering if you’d ever consider writing for chuuya from bungo stray dogs and nishinoya from haikyuu. I love them both so much and you’re my favourite author and I’d really love to see how you’d write for them if you’re up for it

sorry @ all my other fandoms it’s literally the way i dropped everything to write this LMFAO

hiya!! i’m sosos happy this came through i remember a while back a lovely anon requested dazai from bsd and i completely forgot about it so aaaa!! so sorry if you’re reading this that anon! but nevertheless! i really, really adore chuuya and this is in fact my first time writing for bsd and chuuya for that matter. i’m so flattered anonie, thank you <3 i hope i done him justice :) p.s: i got a little bit carried away and was planning to post nishinoya in this one too but.. yeah. be sure to look out for him cause i’ll post a separate piece for yuu! enjoy.

nsfw content below! if you’re new here, please read my disclaimer here before proceeding. thank you!

a note: logically, this fanfic makes no sense because chuuya doesn’t wear his sexy vest + hat outfit until after dazai has left the port mafia so... don’t think about logic, k? (i think so anyway? it’s been a while)

-

there’s a clink of ice dragging against glass that chimes through the air. inside the glass seems to be a transparent liquid of sorts, leading anyone of the ordinary to believe that it may at least be vodka. in actuality, it’s just lemon flavoured water with some ice. it’s not like anyone would pick up his drink to take a sip anyway-

“oh? it’s not vodka? ehhhhh, are you trying to look cool, chuuya?” dazai takes a bold swig of the beverage before setting it back down onto the coaster. he bears a large grin that stretches from ear to ear, eyes lightly fluttered shut as he hums sardonically. there’s a spring in his step as he traverses beside chuuya and hops himself up onto the window, legs dangling and ankles fluttering.

“what the hell do you want?” chuuya barks, eyebrows creasing in disgust.

“what do i want? hm. like right now? you know.. i could probably go for some coffee right now! a cappucino? no- maybe latte? oh, wait, what about a flat white-“

“dazai.” chuuya hisses, spinning around from his chair to face him.

“seriously. cut the bullshit. why are you here, huh? i’m not having a tea party with you, so if you’re here to waste my time, leave.”

“ugh, you’re always so to the point. a little smalltalk and banter never killed anyone.”

“it killed my brain cells. spit it out.”

“chuuuyaaa~ you’re so meaaaan!”

there’s a scowl that chuuya pierces through dazai so heavily to the point where the latter is forced to drop his foxy act.

“we’re taking a woman in for questioning. she refuses to stay anywhere that’s not a proper bedroom, said that she’s more than willing to comply otherwise.”

“pffft, what a fucking stuck-up princess. so what? you’re sticking me with her?”

“believe me, you’ll thank me. i can’t take her. i’m out on a job in a few.”

“i’d never thank you but alright. i just have to keep an eye on her until tomorrow?”

“even you won’t be able to screw this up.” dazai remarks as he slides off the window, straightening himself before beelining towards the door.

“what the hell is that supposed to mean? you tryna say something?”

“uh-huh. anyways! see you later.”

as dazai heads outside, he takes one last glance at chuuya from over his shoulder.

“alsooo, can you keep the noise down to a minimum? everyone knows your name here already-“

“shut up!”

“yeah, okay~”

the door quietly shuts with a thud and chuuya leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling for a while.

within a couple of moments, he notices the shuffling of footsteps outside his room. instead of looking like a moron who fell asleep with his eyes open, he swings around to his desk and continues to gloss over the details of his next job.

an unfamiliar feminine voice rings out from behind him, causing his interest to peak.

“oh, um, thank you!” you awkwardly bow to the guards? the uh, big scary people with guns? (probably guards) who escorted you up to the room. you take a step inside and let out a small squeak before the door behind you shuts.

and locks.

“eh?”

“what’s with the ‘eh?’” chuuya snorts, not making the effort to turn to face you just yet. he goes to take a sip of his drink and wrinkles his face in disdain when he realises the being that tarnished it beforehand. using his right hand, he crosses over his left and effortlessly pours the beverage out the window. you only gawk at him with utter confusion. couldn’t he have just gotten up to go to the kitchen or something? do they even have a kitchen?

you conclude that standing around stiffly and eyeing the man at the desk isn’t a good look on you, so you move towards the bed. sure you said you wanted an actual room, but, you didn’t think it would be someone else’s.

“may i?” you motion towards the bed. chuuya briefly flickers his attention to you in his peripherals.

“sure.”

you scoot onto his bed, making yourself comfortable. you slide your back up against the wall, leaning yourself into the wall on your right as well. you decide to glance out the window, counting by the different coloured cars in hopes for either time to pass or the mafioso man to offer you some form of entertainment. maybe a book? oh, shit, uno cards? can you even imagine playing uno with him? this guy would flip his desk before the first round’s finished.

you laugh to yourself, and within a split second, you immediately lament your existence.

“what’s so funny?” chuuya implores, setting his pen down. you haven’t even turned yet and you can feel his gaze burning holes into you.

“nothing.” you blurt out.

his sigh fills the room as he picks up his chair before setting it down beside you. chuuya slumps down with his legs spread apart, torso cradling the back of his chair.

his slender and bony hand reaches out, ice cold fingertips from his beverage send you into a state of alarm as he clasps your chin before yanking your head to face him.

“i don’t tolerate bullshit. quite frankly, i won’t repeat myself to you.”

“the least you can do after strolling in here like a prestigious brat is listen to me. i don’t know what shit you pulled to get involved with the port mafia but-“

chuuya grazes his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down. he peers down at your teeth and the beginning of the pink in your mouth.

“what were you snorting about?“

there’s a desire that fuels your extremities and every nerve in your body. you don’t know why, but fuck, this man makes you wanna act like an intolerant brat. and you think, what’s the harm? if you’re gonna get picked apart by the port mafia, you might as well start early.

and bonus points? he’s hot as shit.

“that’s none of your business, is it?” you grin over his finger, valiantly lapping and curling your tongue before circling the muscle over the tip of his thumb.

chuuya screws his face at you. his eyebrows furrow in turmoil at the blatant disrespect and the corners of his lips crinkle in distaste. your eyes lock with his deep blue orbs and you smirk at the arousal that glosses over them.

chuuya uncurls his hand from your chin before easily kicking aside his chair. it goes clattering halfway across the room.

“down on your knees.” chuuya snaps, tone deep and laced with danger. you oblige, scooting off the bed as fast as humanly possible before settling down onto your knees.

you eye chuuya as he grabs ahold of his belt. he’s extremely short, for one, so you can see why he’d ask you to sit like this. he’s slender, but not underweight. there’s obvious implications of built muscles along his body, especially his thighs and arms. there’s something about the black fingerless gloves that rock against his smooth and pale skin that makes your stomach stir.

“what are you staring at?” he hisses before tossing aside his belt.

“isn’t that obvious?” you remark, licking your lips.

chuuya flashes you a smirk before zipping his fly open. using his gloved dominant hand, he decorates your face by slapping his thick dick against your cheek. his cock is piping hot against your face. you swallow with anxiety when his size is made apparent to you. he’s got a girth that’s wider than average, with a length of around 7 inches. maybe 8? you’re not exactly sure. you lick your lips at the deep red tones that flush his pretty cock.

“i’ll wipe that shitty attitude clean off your face. you’re reminding me of that dumbass clown.”

“eh? an ex or something? you’re bisexual? that’s freaking amazing! happy pride mont-“

“shut the fuck up. you spew way too much.” chuuya barks before shoving his cock down your throat mid-sentence. you gag and sputter around his length, fuelling his ego.

he grabs ahold a fistful from the back of your head, using your strands to roughly pick you up and back onto his cock. your wrists scramble to his hips and you try to push him back, to whimper that it’s too much and too sudden for you.

“where’s that cocky big girl attitude gone now? you can’t suck a dick? almost makes me feel bad for you.”

you whine and spill muffled complaints but it only fuels him further. it sets chuuya’s veins ablaze, controlling you like this.

you weren’t even sure it would be possible, but he manages to brush his tip against the back of your throat. your vision blurs, tears streaming out from your gag reflex. your nose runs and you can only sniffle constantly. drool and saliva envelopes the underside of his shaft, leaving your chin and some of your neck soaked. you wrinkle and wince your nose at the small stubble that’s slowly beginning to grow back near his base. through your tear stained lashes, you look up at chuuya like the good girl you are, lips wrapped around his dick and all.

“oh you god damn kinky bitch” he hisses out through a whine, features melting in compassion.

in that moment, recollection flashes in his eyes. he slides himself out, and a loud wet slurp fills the room. through your blurry vision and fit of coughing, chuuya grabs the long abandoned chair, spinning the back support until it lands the right way. he takes a seat, cock painfully erect and glistening in the deep orange sunset light.

his slender and pretty long fingers curl in a “come here” motion. his other hand leans into his jaw and he bears a smug grin. the harsh lighting from outside pours in so that only half of his face is visible, even then, you can still make out the fact that he’s about to absolutely fucking ruin you.

“ride me.”

[xiyao-feels]

new tu and xiyao fan from earlier. i searched ao3 as per your suggestion and there's only 500 or so fics for them. :( however, i do have a legit question - what are the differences between mdzs and tu (i've never read the latter). and if you want expand on nieyao (or xiyao) please feel free! i love reading meta! one of the few reasons i miss old school fandom spaces lol. thank you!! :D

Hmmm, I see about eight hundred if I limit to English? But I take your point! But that was just as a way to start; once you do find an author you like, you can look at their bookmarks, for example. (Also I'm not sure if you're familiar with the AO3, but if not, sorting by kudos when doing a general search is a way to get stuff that at least lots of people thought was good. I'm not saying it's perfect, but when you're starting in a fandom it can be better than the default by-date-updated.)

Also I'll take the opportunity to plug my absolute favourite xiyao author, roquen. I didn't mention them last time because they haven't I believe written a post-canon fixit, and you should know that they're mostly sticking to MDZS instead of CQL canon, although with some sprinkling of CQL elements and characterization. Some particular favourites of mine include their AtLA AU and their Sunshot/on the run fics (both series with a couple of short fics), their what you might call a mid-temple hopeful fix-it (divergence where LWJ strikes to kill and LXC takes the blow), the baby LXC fic ("Lan Xichen reverts to being a fifteen-year-old junior, and immediately gets an epic crush on Lianfang-zun"; disclaimer that I was fairly involved with the creation of this one but it's GREAT) and, of course, above all, their gigantic canon fix-it verse, it's worth it every time. It's SO GOOD and the characterization is fantastic and the prose is excellent and UGH. It's so good!!!!! Disclaimer that the second fic in the series, which is the main work, is still WIP, but roquen updates regularly and there are only a couple of chapters left; if you're still wary of WIPs, I'd at least recommend the first fic, which stands alone and is brilliant in its own right.

As to the differences between MDZS and CQL…ho boy. There are quite a few, both major and minor, and I'm by no means familar with all of them—especially the ones that don't involve 3zun, lol. I tried to google around but unfortunately the ones I found tended to be either short or, if more in-depth, contain inaccuracies about JGY/LXC—I think people tend to be more interested in the Wangxian, and then this stuff goes by the wayside. The wiki can be a good source for differences for specific incidents, and although I think it's not always accurate it /does/ usually cite chapter or episode, which can be pretty helpful. 

This, by hualiann, looks like a good overview, though I'd add that JYL, WQ and WN didn't study at Cloud Recesses in the novel and that more generally MDZS has a lot of actual undead.

In general my advice is to take things people say about the novel with a large grain of salt, myself included. And about CQL, too! I have no idea if this is you but when I joined the fandom, if people asserted stuff about CQL I tended to just kind of take it as fact—oh, I thought, I must have misremembered! My memory is pretty terrible, and honestly there was absolutely stuff I did misremember. But also sometimes other people misremember, or fanon gets taken as canon, and then there's stuff like—I mean, I'm certainly not going to blame people for not realizing that "JGY conspired with XY at the Unclean Realm" is a lot more uncertain than you might guess at first, especially if they're more Wangxian focused which most people in the fandom are, but I'm still not going to present it as straight-up fact. (veliseraptor has a recent post examining this here which I would very much recommend).

Honestly I think I'd recommend reading the MDZS NMJ Empathy flashback—chapters 48, 49, and the beginning of 50. That gets you a lot of the JGY, LXC and NMJ backstory, and then you can compare for yourself! I'm also going to recommend Mercy's thread, here, listing common fanons about MDZS (I will add to the list, since it's a bugbear of mine, the idea that LXC recognized NMJ's fierce corpse by his abs).

Okay with all that out of the way, and in no particular order, Sun's extremely idiosyncratic and particularly- aka mostly JGY-focused differences list:

-In MDZS, LXC doesn't become Sect Leader until the burning of Cloud Recesses by the Wen, when his father is injured and then succumbs to his wounds. In CQL, he's Sect Leader from the beginning of the show, his father having apparently died not too long before the show started.

-In MDZS, MY wasn't working for the Nie at all before the beginning of Sunshot; he joined the Nie forces just after Sunshot began. NMJ didn't instantly promote him to be his deputy when he's telling at the Nie men for bad-mouthing him; it takes a few more encounters and/or battles with the Wen (after which MY clears the battlefield and helps the commoners).

-In MDZS, xiyao's first meeting happens when LXC is on the run with the Lan books after the burning of Cloud Recesses. We don't see it happen on the page, and we don't know any details of that time beyond, like, MY helped LXC.

-NMJ willingly sends MY away from the Nie, with a letter of recommendation for JGS, after, uh, an extended overhearing of a conversation between MY and LXC wherein MY's desire to be recognized by his father and gain a proper place in the Jin, the opportunity offered for that by JGS recruiting talent at Langya, and the possible difficulty of obtaining permission from NMJ are all established. 

-NMJ sees MY stabbing a /Jin/ captain, at Langya, after he goes looking for MY. Rather than taking a blow for NMJ, MY stabs himself, faking suicide, then immobilizes NMJ (who's trying to save his life) and flees. This is because NMJ wants MY to go turn himself in for killing the captain; MY thinks they'll kill him, while NMJ says that if the captain has actually been mistreating MY as MY said, MY won't be killed. Personally I think that all the evidence suggests that MY is right, and NMJ is blind to the effects of his position to the extent it's a not insignificant moral failure.

-Okay, so, you know how in CQL MY stabs WRH while he's distracted with WWX, outside on the steps with the Sunshot alliance right outside? In /MDZS/, they're in the Sun Palace, WWX isn't anywhere near the place, he does it to save NMJ's life, and then he starts lugging NMJ's unconscious body out of the palace. And then NMJ comes to consciousness amd demands his sabre and tries to kill him. He likely only survives because of NMJ's wounds, and if LXC hadn't shown up (responding to a message MY sent for aid for NMJ) NMJ might easily have killed him. If you want a more in-depth analysis, I take a close look here in my response to someone's, er, imaginative interpretation of NMJ and JGY's relationship in MDZS.

-In CQL, NMJ's qi deviation happens at the stairs incident. In MDZS, it happens later, when he overhears JGY being upset to LXC about how NMJ treated him at the stairs, and, overcome with rage that JGY would dare (arguably in combination with being polite and pleasant to NMJ's face, although the last time he was confrontational to NMJ's face NMJ kicked him down the stairs and tried to kill him so), he kicks open the door and tries to kill him. He also kills several people as he's qi deviating (seeing them as JGY—while in CQL he also sees several JGYs they seem to be just illusions), and injures NHS.

-In MDZS, NMJ sets fire to all of NHS' nice things. I don't think we're told either way in CQL, although it's worth noting that in MDZS this happens after the stairs (and before JGY starts playing for him again). (I think they do something in FJ?? But I don't take FJ as canon for CQL; see confusion-and-more's post here).

-In CQL, JGY suggests to NMJ that he's always played the corrupted Clarity for him (though granted this is in Empathy, so it's hard to say for sure if this is what he actually said, but in any case it's the only version we're given). In MDZS, it's strongly indicated that JGY only started playing Turmoil for NMJ /after/ the stairs—there's a variety of evidence, but I think the most objective is that WWX, who in MDZS Empathy can literally feel NMJ's anger, actually observes it working beforehand:

Since [JGY started playing for NMJ], Jin GuangYao would travel from Lanling to Qinghe every few days, playing Sound of Lucidity to help quell Nie MingJue rage. He tried his hardest, without speaking even a single word of complaint. Sound of Lucidity was indeed effective. Wei WuXian could clearly feel that the hostile energy within Nie MingJue was being suppressed.

(Exiled Rebels translation, ch. 49)

And then the next scene is the stairs incident, so.

-In general, the degree to which JGY's position is completely awful is played down in CQL. confusion-and-more talks about it a bit here; I'd also note that some of JGY's dialogue defending himself is removed ( “Some trivial achievements?” He spoke in a shaking voice, “…What do you mean, some trivial achievements? ChiFeng-Zun, do you know how much work I put into such trivial achievements? How much I suffered? Glory? Without the handful of glory I have nothing!”, for example), we don't hear about his mother at the guqin scene, the temple flashback where his mother is dragged naked outside by a client and he's kicked down the brothel stairs is eliminated, etc etc.

-There is absolutely no second flutist in MDZS; also JGY tells us in the temple that QS was already pregnant before he found out about the incest. I think even in CQL it's questionable whether he actually intended to kill Zixuan (see this whole conversation), and significant unveiling or no CQL never actually says QS wasn't pregnant before their marriage so I tend to go with that too, but certainly it's easy to walk away with the impression that he definitely did both deliberately, especially if you aren't familiar with the novel.

-(In general, I think CQL JGY is a lot more sympathetic than most people think once you look closely, but he's also very much set up to look upon a more casual watching as Villain, so.)

-In CQL it's All A-Yao All The Time but in MDZS we see LXC calling him san-di after the sworn brotherhood, and then it's back to A-Yao in the present day (see my last addition on this chain here).

-In MDZS, JGY doesn't shove JL out of the way of the incoming attack.

-The LXC lifting JGY out of his bow thing is from CQL

-The watchtowers! Oh /man/ the watchtowers. God the watchtowers are so much. Uh, confusion-and-more has a post about how much they're mentioned in MDZS vs CQL here, and see my last addition to this thread for an argument that the watchtowers were indeed a force for good. God. Twelve hundred watchtowers. He must have saved so many lives...

-confusion-and-more's watchtower post also reminds me that CQL has the Guanyin temple giving out medicine, while MDZS does not

-The episode 23 scene where Sect Leaders Jin, Nie, and Lan agree to spare some of the Wen doesn't exist in MDZS (though I'll take the opportunity to observe that I disagree with popular interpretations of that scene, see point three here).

-In MDZS NMJ's fierce corpse is literally trying to kill JGY, there's no saber spirit. And like, it's been trying to kill JGY for a long damn time, that's why JGY dismembered him.

-The XY plotline—in MDZS, JGY recommends a young XY (who at thay point has a reputation but is not known to have committed any massacres) as a Jin cultivator, as part of an effort by JGS to recreate the Yin Tiger Seal. JGS has multiple people trying, but most of them aren't getting anywhere and XY is getting furthest. It's during this time that XY kills the Chang clan, and is discovered as guilty by XXC, who brings up the evidence at a conference happening in Lanling; the Jin are stalling, MMJ gets angry and shows up, he almost kills XY on the spot and gives JGS a lecture such that he's forced to relent and sentence XY to death (and incidentally scares JGY, imho quite seriously, while he's at it). Then JGS turns it into life imprisonment once NMJ has left, and then NMJ is extremely angry and attacks JGY at the stairs. (Ch. 30 and 118)

-I mentioned before but I'll add it here too: in CQL JGY asks LXC to stay and die with him, and LXC agrees.

-The CQL ending in general is...hmmm. Despite having most of the elements which complicate MDZS' ending (JL is in a terrible position!), it kind of presents as...happy ending all is fixed now? In MDZS I think it's presented as—more complicated, even though Wangxian do very much get their happy ending.

-Also LWJ is a lot less. uh. Okay, so in CQL he's more Mr Morality, and in MDZS it's much more Wei Ying Right Or Wrong. Also, he doesn't become Chief Cultivator in MDZS! I think that's my least favourite change, because it's like...LWJ hates politics, hates compromise, and never attends the cultivation conferences. At least one of 'this is going to be a major diisaster' and 'LWJ is going to have to go through some significant shifts in his worldview and approach' are going to have to happen, but that's not the vibe CQL gives off at all, and I think it really works against some of the major themes of the text :/

-OH RIGHT I knew I was forgetting something—in MDZS MXY's revenge is focused solely on the Mo; JGY is not part of the curse.

Okay I don't want to go too much on about xiyao or nieyao, because this is already quite long and I don't want you to be waiting forever, but broadly although I certainly think NMJ cares about JGY a great deal it seems to be about his competence and potential; he doesn't really seem to, like, actually like who he is as a person. JGY, meanwhile, is at first very grateful to and then increasingly exasperated by and very much fucking terrified of NMJ, but...well, he doesn't seem to be into him or interested in spending time with him for the sake of it or etc etc.

On the other hand—xiyao. Man, xiyao!!!! They just—they get each other so fast, they're /partners/, they work together so well, they like and they respect each other, they're both like���LXC and MS are on their own tier for JGY, LWJ and JGY are on their own tier for LXC, they're for each other in a way neither is for anyone else, they care a lot about the same things—it's not perfect overlap, obviously, but it's more overlap I think than either has with anyone else, they—invest, they're builders, JGY was planning the watchtowers project from way back and although I have no doubt he was driving it LXC was with him and!!!! ugh!!!!! xiyao are REALLY GREAT, okay.

[varyen]

home is wherever i’m with you

I wrote a little Childe x Zhongli fic last night. Here’s the AO3 link. Under cut because of lenght. 

It’s the rain, Zhongli thinks, the rain does something to people, especially at night. It has a way of washing away facades and lies and oftentimes brings out confessions between people … — lovers.

The rain is heavy in Liyue this night. 

Zhongli doesn’t remember when the rain started nor does he know when it will end — in his humble opinion, it shall not. There is something peaceful about the rain, the steady sound of drops hitting the soil and the soft smell of rainwater lingering in the air. It’s something so simple and yet so eternal — the rain has always been while the rest around him evolved and changed. 

The streets are empty and cold in Liyue this night, the rain and the freezing wind keeping the people in their homes, tucked away behind their fireplaces and spending the time with their loved ones in privacy rather than out on the streets. 

It’s the same for Zhongli; he likes to believe himself to experience something mortal this night. The simplicity of it; it crawls under his skin.

The window is cracked open just a bit but there are no noises coming from the outside; there is no turmoil, none of the busy noises that usually go hand and hand with Liyue Harbour, the sound of the crowds and people and work. Tonight, there is just the rain. 

 Zhongli sits on the bed, a cup of tea on the nightstand next door to him, the book in his hands open but both long forgotten. 

His attention lies on Childe and Childe alone — the Fatui Harbinger of danger and wrath, sleeping peacefully next to him, his breath even and his legs tangled with Zhongli’s. He’s relaxed against Zhongli and his body rises and sinks in a slow rhythm. His slender fingers are wrapped around Zhongli’s wrists softly, barely holding on.

The delicate sound of the rain falling outside and Childe’s deep, rhythmic breath creates a melody in Zhongli’s head so full of yearning and love that the Archon almost can’t recognize himself.

Is this mortality?, he wonders, his eyes wandering over Childe’s relaxed features, a faint smile covering his face. 

Is this what mortality will be like? Moments so precious like this — in all of his long life Zhongli cannot remember being soft. He’s always been as hard as stone, had to be, even with peace among the land, he has been hardened and formed by centuries of war and slaughters. Softness was never a luxury Rex Lapis could afford — Ah, Zhongli stops himself, a faint smile on his face; but he no longer is Rex Lapis. The burden of his Gnosis, the burden of his name, the burden of the divine; it was all lifted off his heavy shoulders. It finally feels like he’s able to breathe. 

And now, with Rex Lapis deceased and bygone, will he, Zhongli, be able to afford the luxury of softness, of vulnerability? Maybe, he thinks to himself and eyes Childe.

“Your tea still warm?” Childe’s sleepy voice rips Zhongli softly out of his thoughts — the Fatui has one eye open, staring at him with sleep still smudged all over his face. 

“I’m afraid not”, Zhongli answers, his lips still carved up slightly enough for Childe to recognize his smile. 

He yawns and turns around, resting his head on his hands. His eyes are sharper now, more perceiving but his face is still made soft by sleep. “It’s late, Zhongli. You should go to sleep.” - “I find much more rest in watching you”, Zhongli replies and finally closes that book in his lap and puts it away — he’s lost his interest in it as soon as Childe fell asleep. 

“It’s a peaceful night”, Zhongli adds, his head making a slight movement towards the open window. The rain hasn’t stopped or decreased and Childe hums in acknowledgement, his everblue eyes throwing a quick glance outside — the orange light of the lanterns is almost magical in the wet night, clashing against the dark, warm and yet cold at once, a paradox that cannot be explained — just like either of them, Zhongli and Childe, in their own ways, and without so much as having to look at each other, they know that they’re both thinking the same thing. 

Childe leans upwards, his hands running over Zhongli’s arm like a faint whisper. “I don’t know for how much longer the Tsaritsa will let me stay”, he whispers against the rain. Childe’s voice is tainted. 

The night is peaceful until Childe decides that it isn’t.

Zhongli’s eye twitches but the rest of this face remains as neutral as he can manage. It’s the rain, Zhongli thinks, the rain does something to people, especially at night. It has a way of washing away facades and lies and oftentimes brings out confessions between people … — lovers. 

Zhongli tilts his head — in all his long, long life he’s never met quite a challenge like Childe — everything about him is surreal; his decisions impulsive and his emotions reckless in a way that it moves something deep within Zhongli — he can’t quite grasp it, he can’t quite comprehend it. It must be love, Zhongli thinks to himself. It must be the kind of love only a god can give.

 “What about you?” Zhongli asks, looming over Childe like a dark shadow, eyes narrowed. 

Within Childe, something seems to crack — his features derail and he looks away, as if ashamed, and suddenly he’s much smaller. 

“I wish I could stay”, he whispers so quietly, Zhongli almost mistakes his voice for the rain. 

“You can”, Zhongli replies simply. There is a certain warmth in the Archon’s voice, a certain tone that rings right through Childe and punches a dagger in his heart. 

Childe looks up to him, eyes wide open, cheeks flustered and his mouth slightly agape. 

“And if you cannot, well… I can follow you to Shneznaya. I am no longer bound to Liyue”, Zhongli stops for a second and smiles again. “Home is wherever I am with you.” 

Childe just stares back at him — the Harbinger looks so vulnerable in this moment, so fragile, Zhongli is sure he could break him with less than his fingers. He could swear that Childe’s eyes swill up with tears but the Harbinger blinks away quickly. 

“I have nothing to offer you”, Childe suddenly breathes, his fingers wrapping tightly around Zhongli’s wrists. 

Zhongli is quiet for a moment, processing what Childe just said before he chuckles low. Really, Childe is one of a kind but Zhongli knows a thing or two about patience. 

“I have been worshipped, Ajax”, Zhongli starts and Childe’s eyes open wider as if he’d only now realize who Zhongli is and what power he holds, still, even without his Gnosis. 

“I have been worshipped in blood and sacrifices and many more things worse. I have slaughtered and taken. I have led and protected.  I built Liyue and watched over it for thousands of years. The people have given me everything over these millennia and there is nothing I want except you.” 

His hands slowly cup Childe’s cheeks, his thumbs pressing into the soft skin underneath the Fatui’s eyes. 

“You never will have to offer anything to me. Quite on the contrary, I offer myself to you.”

Childe inhales sharply. 

“Will you accept the devotion of an old man like me?”, Zhongli doesn't smile but Childe recognizes a faint glow in the Archon’s eyes that gives his amusement away anyway.

“I desire nothing else but the gift of your love”, Zhongli adds, and he leans toward to press a gentle kiss against the corner of Childe’s mouth. He can feel Childe’s heart skip a beat, his breath shuddering in his throat. 

Childe groans, his fingers pressing hard into Zhongli’s skin; like he would float away if he didn’t hold on tight enough; or like Zhongli would slip away from him.

“You will be the end of me”, Childe whispers. “You’re killing me.” 

Zhongli’s eyes light up on that, like the eyes of Morax, clear and sharp Amber. Yet another reminder for Childe to not forget who Zhongli is — or was. 

“Do not think about the Tsaritsa now. Instead, think about me and what I can do — Gnosis or not.” And after six millennia of being a god, there is a command in Zhongli’s voice which is undeniable and, more importantly, not negotiable with. His words have been the law for a very long time and who is Childe to disobey the God of Justice, the God of War? 

Childe swallows and all he can do is nod. 

Deep within himself, underneath layers and layers of lies and betrayal, Childe knows, he knows, that if Zhongli called, he would answer. His devotion to the Tsaritsa started to thin in the very moment Zhongli gave his Gnosis up — without a fight he handed it to Signora, freely, and he seemed almost relieved to be rid of it. Childe knows this in the very abyss of his soul; and so does Zhongli. 

“Will you still require blood and slaughter?”, Childe asks, half joking, half serious. “I can give you both.” 

Zhongli snorts which catches Childe so off guard that his jaw drops — he never heard Zhongli making such a sound.

“The times of war and battle have long passed. I am no longer an Archon. I am no longer the god that I needed to be. I may not be as mortal as you are, my love, but mortal enough.” Zhongli turns to look outside, the rain still heavy, still falling. 

“In all this time of being alive I never felt so alive.” 

His gaze flatters back to Childe but he remains silent then. Childe’s heart pounds so fast and so loud that he’s sure Zhongli can hear it. His blood rushes through his veins like a wildfire and ignites something beyond passion and desire.

Childe closes his eyes and lets his head bump against Zhongli’s shoulder. 

“You��re right”, he says then, finally giving in,  his lips trailing over Zhongli’s skin. “It’s a peaceful night.”

Zhongli finds himself leaning into the touch, into the warmth, and he hums. He presses a kiss on Childe’s forehead. 

“It surely is. And we have many more ahead of us.”

[felassanis]

WHY FENHAWKE IS IMPORTANT. FENRIS ANALYSIS.

(I’m not saying you have to romance fenris, if you do not like fenris you do you boo boo romance a fucking candelstick. I just have to put this ‘disclaimer’ even tho it’s obvious, cuz we have easily offended geezers up in this fandom who have accused me before of having ‘acted superior with my romance choice’ and all that bollocks.)

Kinda long, kinda detailed, but I had a lot of fun thinking about this. Also, I am not analysing Rivalmance, I am analysing scenes and dialogue from Fenris’s ‘nicemance’’ mentions of mental illness but nothing triggering.

Fenris’s story in Dragon Age II has a outer layer and an inner layer. The outer layer is of course fighting for his freedom. Becoming a free man is his conscious desire. In order to get this Fenris will do anything from never staying in one place for too long to killing anyone that comes after him. This ‘becoming a free man’ is the obvious story regarding Fenris. It’s the first thing we learn about his arc: The slave who wants to be free. And it’s up to our Hawke to help him achieve that.

But, we also have what I call the ‘true story’. His inner layer or ‘subconscious’ desire surrounds the element of revenge, overcoming trauma and learning to move on. It’s the story of Fenris we will eventually learn about and slowly uncover as the game progresses. 

Fenris deep down wants to move on. It’s not just about being free, Fenris knows he wants to be free. He is fully aware of that. What he doesn’t acknowledge however, is that in order to be truly free he’s got to learn to accept what has happened to him, accept it was out of his control and accept that it is in the past. But....he won’t. 

I will admit, Fenris’s speech can be hella emo and overdramatic, the way he talks is extremely gothic novella and the writers could have done a better job at showing not telling. But, the reason he talks the way he does about ‘plagues in his heart’ and whatnot, is to exemplify the complete and utter turmoil this elf possesses. You can tell he’s thought about it a lot, because he talks so poetically that you can’t help but think ‘no one naturally talks likes this’ it shows he has overthought the emotions his past has caused at great lengths. I guess, you could analyse it as ‘no one talks that way, unless they’ve rehearsed it’ which yes, I think he has rehearsed it to some degree. Not to sound purposefully broody and meloncholic just for the aestheitc; he just knows with full clarity how it makes him feel and he’s able to describe it naturally in that articulated manner. 

I highly doubt he even knows he’s doing it honestly, his speech is very different from the other characters. Anders for example also suffers from trauma and mental health, but he doesn’t speak like this. For Fenris it just comes naturally...

Every time we talk to Fenris before spending the night with him is about slavery. We find him running from slavers, we kick down the doors to hunt down his slave master and he talks to Hawke about what has happened to him regarding his days of being a slave. The topic of slavery is heavily ingrained into his character but the game isn’t doing that because Bioware wants you to think ‘OOH he’s so angsty and broody! He’s such a tormented soul don’t you just love him?!’ Nah, Bioware is merely saying that this character’s past was so horrifying that he simply cannot get over it. He talks about it so much because it has engulfed him; he’s not free of the chains as Flemeth said. 

The ‘chains’ she’s referring to is that ‘slavery’ has very much swallowed his whole identity. He’s not yet willing to claw his way out of the jaw of his past. He’s both unwilling and likely unaware he talks about it so much with Hawke.

The only other conversation where it’s not heavily discussed is when him and Hawke discuss the theme of home in his first one on one. It becomes very clear that Fenris has not had a home in a long time due to being on the run, he asks Hawke why they haven’t returned to Ferelden and nearly every option Hawke has is pretty much ‘Kirkwall isn’t so bad, I’ve built a life here’ or ‘my family is here, I have roots’ to which Fenris will sound...longing. Exhibiting a clear desire to have his own place to call home, yet he won’t come out and say it. Hawke says “It sounds like you want to settle down,” and Fenris will respond “I could see myself staying, for the right reasons,” and I just...look, he is deliberately giving himself an out when he says that. ‘The right reasons’ is a clever way of Fenris setting up an escape plan for when his paranoia inevitably settles in and it’s time to pack up and move on. ‘The right reasons,’ yeah, we both know Fenris, that when you decide it’s time to go you can then just be like ‘I haven’t found the right reason to stay’ and run. But the reason you haven’t found the right reason to stay, is because you are not MAKING a reason to stay! 

Moreover, his second one on one? Where if you flirted with him he’s like ‘You’re amazing, but I’m a slave...why would you want me?’ here, Hawke is beginning to represent that ‘right reason’...a reason he could stay, and that gives him some food for thought, as well as some potential fear...This is repeated when the flirting gets a bit more heated durng the second conversation. Where’s he drunk (I think?) and him and Hawke dance around ‘getting to know each other’ only for Fenris to suddenly back out.

A good quote, ‘if you feel as though you have no place in the world, you must make one,’ is something I think resonates with this elf. He doesn’t have a purpose in the world, he is on the run constantly with his past eating away at him. But he does want purpose, he’s just unable to grasp it. His story is about carving himself a new purpose, a new future.

Now, obviously...Fenris can’t really settle down. Not until he’s stopped being hunted which will only occur when Danarius is dead. I’m obviously not glossing over that and saying ‘Fenris is a bitch who won’t move on’ that’s not what I’m saying AT ALL. He has good reason to not stay in one place and he has good reason to paranoid. But, Danarius and the slavers? that’s not the inner conflict that I’m trying to analyse. Danarius and the slavers are an obstacle, they are the physical hurdles he has to jump over. So, yeah I know Fenris cannot do any of what I have said because of those hurdles, but he also can’t do any of that until he’s dealt with his inner conflict; which as I said before is him learning to move on and accepting the past.

The inner conflict NOT BEING ADDRESSED is exactly why after he kills Hadriana he feels EMPTY. In the moment that he is face to face with someone that caused him so much pain; she bullied him to no end and like any person Fenris loses it. All those years of abuse...he has the chance to exact his revenge and he does it. However, after being consumed with hatred for so long and at such an intensity...what is left? Now she’s dead...he feels nothing.

I want to point out that Fenris says ‘I couldn’t let her go, I wanted to...but I couldn’t’ at first I when I heard this line I was a bit confused. But thinking about it, Hadriana isn’t just a character in Dragon Age. In Fenris’s story she represents a chapter in his lifethat Fenris THOUGHT HE HAD CLOSED. He says ‘This hate...I thought I had gotten rid of it’ Hadriana represents Fenris’s rage...Hadriana while a complete fucking bitch, isn’t Danarius. Danarius is the one that haunts Fenris. While I have no doubt that she deserved to die, and I shudder to think what she might have done, she isn’t as bad as Danarius. Fenris...could have let her go, and if he had done then it would have represented some ounce of moving on...but he kills her, he gives into his rage and kills her. 

Fenris had convinced himself that he was over it to some degree, but he isn’t. So once her blood laments his hands, it is a revelation to him. A scary one...and that is why he feels ‘disquiet’. Or alternatively, you could see it as Fenris perhaps ALWAYS knowing he was not over his hate deep down, but Hadriana finally brought it to light. His hate has always been quelling inside of him, but it’s only really after Hadriana, does Fenris finally fucking realise it. So when it’s revealed to him, it becomes too much for him to handle hence why he stomps off leaving the party. Thus, beginning Act 2 of Fenris’s story...

Sorry for all of that, but now I’M GOING TO TALK ABOUT HAWKE.

After he leaves the party, you will find Fenris at Hawke’s estate waiting for them. Now that hot, emotional fury has lifted from his senses he’s ready to be nice again and say sorry. 

After apologising; Hawke as concerned as always, asks him if he’s okay...and Fenris, without being drunk, will be completely honest with Hawke. He will confess the conflict he is feeling, he’ll describe what Hadriana made him feel and he will confess how her death left an emptiness inside of him...I don’t doubt that Fenris is a reserved person. He’s not one to voice his problems and past. While the entire cast of DAII know Fenris was a slave, I feel like only Hawke truly knows the details. However gory. The Fog Warriors story truly shows how much trust he has for Hawke, that isn’t a story that paints him as the good guy...yes, to some degree he was a victim but he did murder people who only wanted to help, who were willing to fight for his freedom. The Fog Warriors are parallel to Hawke, they were people he respected and looked up to just as he does with Hawke yet he killed them. Him telling that story...my god, imagine how hard that must be. Hawke is doing the same thing for him that the Fog Warriors did, but he trusts Hawke so much that he feels like they should know. 

Back to the romance scene, he is completely vulnerable in that moment. After his rant he has a moment of clarity and realises he’s distanced himself from the original goal of meeting up with Hawke. They’re so easy to talk to he forgot himself. So, he’s about to leave. Until Hawke reaches out for him.

THE KISS SCENE, wow...ok. The armour design defintely had a hand in it, we know his arms are showed off in that armour because he’s not keen on hiding them, he won’t hide from the slavers who know exactly what those markings mean. 

Hawke grabs HIS SKIN. As they try to stop him from leaving they touch his skin...

Back with Hadriana when Hawke can reach out for him, they grab his shoulder, the part of him that’s cladded in thick leather (or whatever the heck it’s made out of)...nothing happens. HERE THEY TOUCH HIS SKIN. All that SPIKY armour! And Hawke is close enough to Fenris that they can reach out and touch his bare arm. 

He glows, and while it can be speculated, the lyrium seems to briefly cloud his mind and instinctively he seems to think he’s being hurt, on reflex he slams Hawke against the wall. He appears angry, hostile...could be the lyrium defending him...but it’s probably more to do with physical abuse....

I love seeing that blue cloud fade from his eyes, as he slowly slips back to reality and processes what has just happened. His animation shows him stepping back, slowly because he must be thinking ‘I have just made this worse, I came here to apologise, and these damn markings just made me attack Hawke’ in this moment Hawke sees Fenris in a state. The Lyrium, the ‘magic that has spoiled him’ took over...he probably thinks they ought to be mortified. But instead? Hawke kisses him.

Hawke has seen him in the state he probably feels disgusted by. There’s no way this hasn’t happened before, where he’s lost control. And he probably feels akin to a mage succumbing to a demon. But Hawke...Hawke just loves him, and wants to make him feel loved. They saw that flicker of horror in his eye as he pinned them against the wall, and they just would want to blow it out. 

Of course Fenris is going to reciprocate. There’s no one he respects more, no one he trusts more (nor fancies more :) ) and after he did what he did they still kiss him. Finally, it is here that Hawke represents a future, and for that night he’s willing to have a taste of that future. To feel happy and loved, to forget about his past and focus on Hawke...

Then, the past comes to bite him in the arse.

He remembers his life before the the lyrium. Suddenly, without warning it is then stolen from him. He lost his life TWICE.

He lost it twice because of the Lyrium, the lyrium inflicted upon him by Danarius, the Magister who fucking...well, you know. The Magister who enslaved him and others and who has been sending out slavers to hunt him down, the very same slavers Hawke and Fenris fought that very day...the slavers that ambushed him and Hawke.

See where I’m going with this? Fenris recollecting his memories only to lose them is a double edged sword. One side, it’s clearly devastating and anyone would be disturbed if their whole life just vanished so suddenly. And if being with Hawke is just going to repeat that then you can’t blame him for wanting to end it. But also, Hawke? This human that represents a potential future? Being with them made him remember the past, the past he is still haunted by and clings to. How can he have a future with someone when being with them is tainted by the past?

I had a whole rant about this in another post so I won’t ramble too long since this post is already a thicc bitch but...Fenris cannot delve into a relationship with Hawke. He isn’t ready for the committment when he’s still being haunted by the past, both physically and mentally. Before he can have a future, he needs to work on himself in order to be ready for that future. He needs to kill Danarius. Now we circle back to him overcoming his obstacles and finally achieving his subconscious desires. 

I said that mental illness is reallt well portrayed in Fenhawke because Fenris and Hawke are seperated for YEARS. Yet, the beauty of it is that Hawke waits for Fenris. They stay by him, they support him and protect him and they remain at his side until the day they finally get to witness him pull out Danarius’s heart. It utterly evokes the beauty of good relationships such as patience, compromise and adoration of all flaws. Yes, they seperate and yes I know people got a bit mad. However, Fenris leaving Hawke strengthens their bond.

Fenris is the one who closes the chapter on Danarius, because as I have said if you are struggling with mental illness only you can help yourself and take the steps to recovery. There are the lucky few who have others surrounding them that will be of support and of course that helps...but it is down the one person to realise they are drowing, and it’s up to them if they grab the lifeguard.

With Danarius dead, once again that feeling of numbing emptiness prevails and instead of getting angry Fenris owns up to the fact that...he needs to move on. That if he’s ever going to be happy he needs to accept what happened to him. Whether or not you let verania live, it was important for Fenris to think he could have reclaimed the past. Because this time when he is once again proven wrong it finally clicks that the past has nothing for him anymore. I do wish he could have had a family, but...it is kinda fitting that Verania is a mage, that she isn’t interested in reuniting with Fenris. The ties have been cut, the past isn’t the answer.

He feels alone. Obviously, that’s not tue, because guess who’s been by his side all this time? And who is standing there right now, looking upon him with much love in their eyes reminding him ‘I’m here Fenris,’

That smile, *swoons* that smile. :’) As though Hawke has said something so bloody obvious. Making him smile because ‘yeah, he should have known that’ And that MY FRIENDS, Is probably when Fenris is already concieving the possibility of spending the rest of his life with Hawke...RIGHT THEN AND THERE.

Fenris has a long way to go to move on, but the important thing is is that he’s now finally willing and able. He doesn’t know where it will lead, but whatever or wherever it leads he’s going to walk it with Hawke. He talks about wishing he had stayed with Hawke when he finally confronts them with what happened between them all those years ago. He says that because now his head is clearer and he sees what he should have done. But Fenris sweetie, you had to go through what you did in order to be the man you are today, it’s ok that you made mistakes. You’re here now and so is Hawke.

A platonic bond with Fenris is important, but Fenris and Hawke probably never see each other again if that’s the case. If you romanced him, Fenris flees Kirkwall with Hawke. He ain’t leaving their side, because they are his future.

Fenris has a fucking amazing arc, bioware did really well with him and his romance was so well done and I love analysing his behaviour. Hawke really helps him get through his trauma and they are there to take his hands and lead him down the road to recovery. This was a romance DONE RIGHT

thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

[iaintyourbro]

I noticed something that sort of ticks me off in Case of Tifa. After Cloud does a delivery for Elmyra to take a bouquet to Aerith's grave he starts staying away from Tifa and Marlene. But then after he finds Denzel and says that Aerith brought Denzel to him and decides to let him live with them and save him from geostigma, Cloud starts being back at home more often again. Did Cloud really start spending more time at home again just b/c of Aerith, and decided to save Denzel just b/c of her?

Hey anon.

The AC/CoT stuff seems to be a popular topic recently. I think it’s good that people are watching ACC and reading the novels since I think it’ll be important to understand both as Remake moves along. They’re pulling all pieces of the compilation into Remake, and the novels are no exception, since Leslie, Marle, and Kyrie have already made appearances. 

The delivery to the Forgotten City caused a old wound to be ripped open. The point of ACC is to show Cloud’s guilt for letting (in his mind) Aerith die. They also tie in Zack since he also feels immense guilt and sadness over that. In CoT they only really say that Cloud does feel guilty because he feels like he couldn’t protect Aerith and prevent her from dying. I don’t think that’s romantic - he was supposed to be her bodyguard and we know from Cloud’s history that he takes these things very seriously. He failed at preventing her from being killed, so he lives with that guilt.

Tifa also has a lot of guilt surrounding Aerith’s death and the Sector 7 plate collapse. They mention her guilt a ton of times, and I find it interesting that it’s not something that’s talked about often online. It’s always about Cloud’s guilt.

Here’s something an anon wrote in that I think is a great summary:

Anon Ask/Statement on Cloud’s Guilt

Tifa’s first time at the Forgotten City, which is shortly after the first defeat of Sephiroth, causes her to break down. The one thing that’s interesting in CoT is Tifa’s guilt slams her almost immediately, while Cloud is the one who seems to be holding it together to support her. 

We see that he’s willing to try and help her be strong. At this point, I’m not sure if he’s fully aware of the amount of guilt that’s settling within him. The point where it really seems to slam him is after he does the delivery for Elmyra. He has PTSD associated with the Forgotten City. I would assume anybody would. I would whether I knew a person closely or not if I saw them murdered in front of me. Especially if I attempted to kill them myself right before. 

Cloud also just generally has PTSD from everything else that’s happened to him. He lost his mother violently, his hometown was burned down, he watched the girl he’s in love with almost die, he was experimented on for four years and then ultimately watched his best friend die in front of him. He’s got a lot of shit going on and now add a reminder of ANOTHER incident in his life, he’s going to spiral.

Cloud also has a tendency to close in on himself. He doesn’t want to be a burden and he’s scared of hurting those he loves. It’s very possible that during this point, he didn’t want to worry Tifa anymore than she already was. So he begins to avoid them. Tifa also is non-confrontational at this point so isn’t going to push him. 

For the Denzel piece: Cloud sees Denzel as a way to repent for his sins of letting Aerith and Zack die. He says Aerith sent Denzel to him not in a romantic sense, but (in his mind) as a way to be forgiven. 

Now, we know Aerith doesn’t blame Cloud for her death. She tells us that in AC. This is all in Cloud’s mind that he’s a failure and he causes all these issues. He’s very selfless, but ends up seeming selfish because he really does pretty much self implode.

It’s not the first time he does this, either. When Tifa falls from Mt. Nibel - he blames himself. He goes through this time when he just becomes and asshole and beats people up. This is the event that causes him to decide to become a SOLDIER. He wants to win Tifa over.

He never tells anybody why he wanted to join SOLDIER. They show that during the Lifestream when Tifa asks him why. It was a sudden decision to everyone around him. Most likely not to Cloud - because Cloud was in his head coming up with all of this stuff. Ultimately, he wanted Tifa to notice him. He wanted to win her over and prove he could protect her. That was his driving force behind joining SOLDIER. 

So now we’ve covered this is just the way Cloud is. In Tifa’s case, he already had a crush on her, so that just grew from there into this deep desire to win her over. In Aerith’s case he didn’t have as strong of a connection to her - he didn’t know her as long - and he was “contracted” to be her bodyguard. He takes these things seriously. 

Cloud and Tifa take Denzel in and Cloud becomes obsessed with finding a cure for Geostigma. We see the books and papers on his desk in Advent Children - so we know this is something he was really looking in to. I relate - I did the same thing when my dad had cancer. You can get into these moods and forget about everything else. Usually somebody has to try and slam you out of it, but it’s hard. 

Tifa also sees Denzel as a way to retribution. She has a lot of guilt over what she did with Avalanche and the Sector 7 plate collapse. Denzel lost his parents in the Sector 7 plate collapse. 

Here is the conversation the two of them have that I think people take out of context. Cloud didn’t say Aerith brought Denzel to him for romantic reasons. He sees it as another chance to save a life. He tells us this - directly. Tifa feels the same was, as we see in the earlier excerpt. If anything, Aerith knew both Tifa and Cloud needed some help here with their inner turmoil. 

On top of it, Tifa feels that Denzel’s arrival strengthened their family. I would think if this was an old flame thing happening, she may feel a bit differently. Cloud decided to cut back to spend more time with the children. This has nothing to do with Aerith. It is also mentioned on a previous page that the bar was starting to lose business because people started realizing a kid with Geostigma lived there. Cloud, Tifa, and Marlene never mention this to Denzel, and instead, they continue to embrace him as part of their family. 

Honestly it’s pretty warm and fuzzy - even though all the darkness in this chapter - Tifa and Cloud are pretty good parents, especially since they’re young and it was kind of thrown on them. Also, it wouldn’t really be nice if Cloud was like “hey I’m dropping another kid off for you to deal with while you’re working the bar and all.”

As for the very last paragraph: We find out later that Cloud ends up with Geostigma and that’s why he left. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back sort of thing. Not only was he failing at saving Denzel, but he also now had what he knew to be a terminal illness in many cases. He now feels he can’t do anything and he runs. He tells us this in AC. 

I don’t think Tifa imagined the promise - because things ultimately end up being okay. Cloud just really thought he was going to die and was going to fail her - being dead means he can’t fulfill his promise to her. 

Here’s an excerpt from Case of Denzel. He mentions Tifa, Cloud, and Marlene. Not just Cloud. He sees them all as his family. He also mentions all of the folks along the way. The bulk of Case of Denzel is him getting to the point of being found at the church. It’s not just about his time with Cloud and Tifa - it’s Denzel’s journey. Johnny is in this one a lot. 

Ultimately, I do have issues with the way Advent Children was handled outside of Japan. Without the novels, it does seem like Cloud is just a depressed mess. You don’t really know why he’s a mess. You know he has Geostigma and you know he feels guilty. Some people took it as him pining for Aerith. Watching ACC and reading the novels, I didn’t get that at all. Many people became Cloti fans because of Advent Children. They were acting like a married couple going through a rough patch. 

They really do only mention his guilt in the novels and his issues with not being able to protect her. We do not have an official “Case of Cloud” so really can only go based on what the other characters are seeing with him and what he’s told them. As I’ve said in previous posts, there’s not canon evidence that his feelings were romantic - especially post Lifestream. 

The novels were released AFTER Advent Children in the US and I don’t think it was very well known. Most of the people I’ve talked to that are casual fans never saw Advent Children as romantic for him and Aerith. Especially since Zack was around. The ending alone makes people laugh when they find out they think Cloud and Aerith had any romance - he calls her “Mom” - her boyfriend is there with her and they’re acting like foster parents. 

I think with Remake, they’ll make things a bit more clear. I think ACC does a good job of making the guilt feel a bit more broad between Aerith and Zack. I wish it would have covered a bit more about Tifa’s guilt like Case of Tifa does, and maybe it would seem less romantic, since they seem to be having the same inner turmoil.

I think if people fully played OG, played Crisis Core, read the novels, and then watched ACC, they’d realize this all comes together pretty clearly. Dirge of Cerberus doesn’t show too much of he full original gang, but you do get to see a much happier Cloud and Tifa in it. The phone conversation is cute and hilarious - especially since since Barret is being ridiculous and Tifa yells at him.

Aerith and Zack are a thing. Cloud and Tifa are a thing. Cloud and Tifa have some serious problems with dealing with what goes on in their heads and it’s resolved by the end of Advent Children. Zack and Aerith give him that look at the end like “Alright, everything should be good now. Don’t disappoint us!” 

I also really do not think Cloud is going to pine after his best friend’s girl. Cloud isn’t a douchebag. He’s a nice guy. He respects people. Zack was his one and only best friend. Zack saved his life. I really think if people would remember to pull Zack into these conversations, they’d realize that it’s ridiculous to think that Cloud was after his dead best friend’s dead girlfriend. 

Additional Reading:

Advent Children Anon Ask  (About Romance)

Cloud and Tifa Ask - Advent Children

Why Zack is Important to Cloud

The Future of the LTD (This has a links to other blogs as well - so there is a variety of opinions here, including from a CA multishipper)

Case of Tifa and the Kids are Alright

[aotopmha]

Notes on chapter 132, based on translations that are out.

-I like how Annie is written out on the character level. The chapter goes into detail considering her character motivations so far and why she decides to stay behind.

One thing I've noticed is people reducing Annie's character to her relationship with Armin now that it exists at all. It's like a knee-jerk reaction every time a female character ends up having a relationship with a male character. I understand it, stories tend to do that and I feel like the romantic element for Annie's and Armin's relationship is kind of out of nowhere myself, but this and the previous chapter clearly explore that Annie is tired of fighting after all of the fighting she has done and I think it makes sense for her as an individual character. It has nothing to do with Armin. Her main scenes in this chapter were actually with Mikasa and Reiner. It's a strange hyper-focus to me, I guess. It happens with Mikasa, too. You've got basically a good chunk of an arc focusing on the relationship between her and Armin with Eren doing his own thing (both Trost and Shiganshina), but she still only cares about Eren, I guess.

This is actually the first time Annie has considered her feelings and what she wants and that's good progress for a character that hates herself.

That said, having her back after 90 or so chapters and not having her actions matter that much here is wierd. The most I see as her plot importance right now is knocking sense into Reiner. I've seen people write the ship crew off already, but I can't help but feel they still might end up having more time and relevance because of paths or some other unforeseen circumstances. I think Gabi and Falco are in a similar situation, as well. If they don't, I think I will have a problem with Annie's involvement in the plot, but I think on a character level she's been handled just fine, even really solidly.

-I like that Floch dies with strong convictions and good intentions in mind. This is the most interesting aspect of Eren and the Yeagerists to me. They are doing this because they want to protect their country and people they love.

While people generally consider fascism as completely evil because of it's horrible methodology (as we also see in this series), the reason why it catches on during times of crisis is because it provides a clear and well-defined perspective within the chaos of the crisis and part of that is the element of saving the people (country) you love. This is a really important element of fascism and the reason why I'd rather not Eren be reduced to the standard villain, but still retain his nuance by the end. Evil is just as human and comes from just as human places as good and for us to not make the same mistakes, it is best to understand the mistakes on a human level and then learn from them, not just brush them off.

-I like Hange's death. It incorporates elements from both, Erwin's and Armin's, sacrifice. She went out there to make all of the deaths mean something and dedicated her heart one last time, which carried on Erwin's will till the end. The final scene of her among everyone is a wonderful callback to the soldiers who have followed the Survey Corps commanders around on their journey, from Erwin standing on the corpses of his comerades to both Erwin and Hange looking at their faces. It's good pathos in my eyes.

I think her farewell scene with Levi was really good for just how well it conveyed their relationship in a couple of gestures.

I've seen the final scene actually considered real and not symbolic of a job well done for Hange for the situation she was handed (which is what I think its narrative purpose was), which I personally think is one of the dumbest ideas I've seen around about the chapter because I think this is a pretty typical trope in war stories and AoT itself has used this stuff before at various points, with, as said, all the scenes with Erwin and Hange seeing their comerades.

But we also see stuff like Jean imagining him and the group of trainees being eaten by Titans before joining the Survey Corps just to convey a state of mind.

Erwin was not actually standing on those corpses, folks. It's all thematic imagery just like all of the animal stuff here and there. Hell, the people Hange knows less even have their backs turned to her.

If it is meant to be literal, it is extremely uncharacteristic of the story, but I feel if you know anything about visual storytelling and visual storytelling tropes, this is pretty typical.

I know there is also contention about Hange being the one to go out there and delay the Titans, but I don't think any of them would be able to do as much as Hange did alone here.

Onyakapon is obviously needed to fly the plane.

Reiner and Pieck would be pretty much useless in their Titan forms and we don't even know if Pieck can actually use the 3DMG, which is the more smarter option here to use over her tiny Titan form.

Connie and Jean going out there has nothing to do with their position in the story and their character arcs, while Hange is the one carrying the weight of the responsibility. Can you also really imagine Connie or Jean having the same competency taking down Titans as Hange, someone who has been doing it far longer than any of them?

Maybe Armin and Mikasa could. But that might leave the possibility of getting through to Eren off the table. I think what people also forget is that Eren still felt guilty when fighting them. Everyone Eren knows facing him might actually be a tactical advantage.

Hange does have a connection with Eren, but most of the group has a much stronger one with him than her.

Finally, there is Levi, who can't even stand up properly. I don't think he is fit enough to even hold off one Titan and as a result they would all be dead.

Outside of this group is also Annie, Yelena, Kiyomi and the two kids and only Annie feels the one equipped enough to take the distraction role.

But ultimately I think it's a thing of principle and character perspective.

Reiner and Annie can use the 3DMG in fairly skilled ways (they are higher ranked among the 104th), they have regenerative abilities and they are in a fairly good physical condition (though also probably much more exhausted than Hange). I think you could spin their character stories to fit this situation if you really wanted. Either of them could've gone to sacrifice themselves for the group to get away.

But Hange is the leader so she thinks she should take the responsibility. She straight-up says that she hasn't been a very efficent leader, so she views this as a redemption of sorts. Armin even offers to go instead of her.

You could paint it as plot convinience and be done with it, but just like Levi's decision to not inject Erwin, I think it makes sense on a character level and what Hange's character struggle has been about in this arc, even if it's not the most "logical" decision.

The other element that has contention related to Hange is that she passed the position of commander over to Armin.

In any other position, I would agree it to be Jean, but considering the context of going to fight Eren, I think Armin is fine and this to me is supported by the reasons Hange gives to appoint Armin as the commander.

Hange says that she appoints Armin because of his insight and courage.

The small detail that even if he's falling to pieces emotionally, he never actually runs away might be useful in the confrontation with Eren. Maybe he'll be overwhelmed and indecisive at points, which is why Jean could be more fitting, but ultimately he ends up at least facing the issue throughout however much turmoil.

While his ability to see the world through a more nuanced light and willingness to cooperate is not only a thematic way to contrast Eren and Armin (the former being stuck in his own perspective and the latter being willing to talk), his reasonings and wake-up calls might get through to Eren much more strongly because they have done so before, in Trost and in Shiganshina.

In any other situation I'd pick Jean, but here I think Armin is better or at the very least also a good option. It's not completely unreasonable.

I do not think this means any of the arcs of the characters are thrown under the bus. I feel everyone on the plane will get closure to their arcs. I think Jean's leadership ability will become relevant. I think Reiner's desire to be a hero will become relevant. I think Pieck's desire to fulfill her responsibility as a warrior will become relevant. I even think Connie's desire to kill Zeke will become relevant and finally so will Armin's and Mikasa's connection with Eren.

I'm much more worried about Zeke and Historia.

I think Historia is essential to make the thematic backbone of the story work. She's the first one among the Reiss to step up and break it. Why would she attempt to break the cycle by playing into it? I think Historia got another perspective of whatever Eren saw and might be working against that. Sadly it probably still involved letting Eren start the rumbling, but perhaps she found a way for it not to go all the way.

We know the oath of the First King is not actually a thing now because Ymir refused to comply, so who says Historia and paths Ymir can't have an encounter.

As a final note, I like the moment with Mikasa and Annie from Mikasa's perspective. The story opted to have Mikasa gain a more healthy perspective on Eren rather than complete independence from him and that can happen. You can go the independence route, but I think this works, too.

Relationships can change for the better and they can change for the worse.

All of this said, I think most of the content was nicely substantial and made sense, but that isn't the main issue I have with this chapter.

I think it has a pacing problem. Some scenes are just fine, but I feel some are a little too quick to have as much impact as I'd like them to have. Mainly Floch's and Hange's death scenes. The point behind them is good, but I think just a couple more pages of breathing room would've made this good chapter a great one.

I do think the anime giving this chapter just a little bit more time could definitely make it great and improve on the other ones where pace bothers me.

[fieryfantasybooklover]

Scythes And Stories - Chapter 1 - Lady Of Death

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Tagged: @lily-chen-deserves-better @julieandthefandoms @blackthorn-trash @rainbow-sheepofthefamily @brotherhalal-ariahs @mithriel-of-mithlond @hands-dripping-ink @themostawesomehuman @zfoxdraws @insane---chaos @imherongraystairstrash @tessagraycarstairs

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The sun rose over the sprawling city of Vesperum. It was a city like a double sided coin, as most cities are. Containing the extremes of both darkness and light, Vesperum had long been the shining capital city of the kingdom Solis. In Vesperum, merchants haggled their wares, shouting to the birds winging overhead. Royal caravans toured through the city center, graciously waving and smiling. The sunsets gave way to the star spangled night, and warriors trained with sword and bow, dagger and mace. This was the city full of life, the side most royals and people in power wanted every visitor to see. However, light cannot exist without darkness and darkness cannot exist without light. In the very same city, peasants cry, unable to feed their children. Corrupt members of the government steal money and secrets, hissing lies with uplifted lips. The outlying kingdoms of Luna, Stellae, Caelum laugh, able to see what natives to Solis cannot - their kingdom is dying. And in the dying city, an assassin cleans her blade.

Anna Corvere was cleaning her dagger. Onyx and bone. Approximately 10 inches long. Blade sharp enough to cut steel. She was running the cloth back and forth, back and forth across the blade, methodically and robotically cleansing the blood from her blade. Her hands trembled only slightly, the only tell to her inner turmoil. “Another day, yet another murder.” she thought bitterly as she finished cleaning her dagger and stored it away. I never wanted this to happen, a voice deep inside her whispered. Anna shoved it down, deep into her soul, smothering it and denying it air. “I’m ridding the world of corruption, which is more than most people will ever do. After all, what am I but a weapon to be wielded by the organization.” glancing out the window at the sky, Anna sighed. It was the trademark mix of slate gray and periwinkle blue that signaled the coming of winter. It would likely be snowing tomorrow, and as cold as the empty vastness of space. Today’s target had been a minor government official, one who worked in the currency department. He’d been stealing money, little aware someone had been watching.

Anna worked for the Ravens. They were a society of covert people, composed of black market traders, underground weapon’s manufacturers, smugglers, and assassins. The group had formed over common interests and desire to stay undetected. Undetected to the royal family - King Samuel, Queen Mirabelle, and their daughter Ariadne - and to their advisers. The soldiers of the government hated them, and had done so ever since the Ravens’ leader Midnight tasked herself with eliminating the evil that had seeped into Solis. And had spent the recent years making true on that promise. Anna, now 17 years of age, had been a member for over a decade. One of the recruiters had found her. Hiding in her old bedroom, screaming, her parents dead in the room next door.

That part of her memory was so faded she could barely picture her bed, or her toys, or even what her house looked like from the outside. Nobody ever found her parent’s murders, and Anna knew to this day they were alive and well, somewhere in the world. Anna had trained since she was five, having exhibited at an early age a talent for battle. Now, here she was, 12 years later. One of the most famous amature assassins in the society, known to the public only as the Lady of Death. Shuddering in the ice cold shower she always made herself take after a job.

One hour and an envelope containing her pay later, Anna flopped back on her bed. Her dark hair was thrown into a messy ponytail, and she sighed. “I wonder if I’ll finally catch a fucking break now. That was the quickest job I’ve ever done. Nobody spotted me, all witnesses removed. Will that be enough to please Mr. oh-you-must-do-better-Ms.-Anna-Mason? Will that be enough to earn me just a day to myself? But oh no, I must be ready at all times to leave.” Anna snarked to herself before quickly sobering. “It’s not good to think that way”, she thought, shaking her head to clear it. “After all, where would I be without them?” she thought logically. “It’s no good to allow myself impudence.”

“Ms. Anna!” Wes called from down the hall. “Mason has requested you in the briefing room in 10!” Anna groaned, gathering the strength to toss aside her book and stand. “Thanks Wes!” she shouted back, quickly changing into her gear. Anna grabbed a dagger, strapped it to her thigh, and set off down the hallway of the Ravens’ base. New recruits gawked as she passed, providing more evidence to the rumors that stayed at Anna’s heels wherever she went. “That’s her. That's the Lady of Death!” one gangly teenage boy whispered to his friend. Anna turned to them, slowing to a half and tilting her head slightly. The two froze, eyes widening and darting as if looking for an escape. But Anna merely smiled, dipped her head, and said “Pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.” saying nothing more, Anna turned and resumed her stroll, a vision in black and shadows. “Woah... Maybe we’ll be like her some day!” the second boy whispered as Anna disappeared down the hall, leaving yet another story behind her.

“Yes Mason? What is it you want?” Anna asked when she arrived in the briefing room. Mason, her supervisor and current head assassin, sighed. Anna surveyed the room quickly, ice blue eyes scanning and cataloging. It didn’t take long for her to realize that the entire Assassin's Council was here - the society’s 10 most esteemed and longest standing assassins. They were all here, seated around the ornate table at the center of the room. The only thing that could mean was this was not just an ordinary meeting. Face betraying nothing, Anna turned back to Mason and raised her eyebrows. “Am I going to assume this meeting is of some importance, or are we just here for tea.” Anna asked, waiting. Raina, one of the council members, heaved a deep breath. “You are correct. This meeting is of importance. Utmost importance actually, so let’s get to it.” Dread rose in Anna then, a feeling unfamiliar to her and entirely unwelcome. It swelled inside her, cold and heavy and malicious. And then, the scythe fell.

“We need you to kill Princess Ariadne."

[theunderdogwrites]

2020: The Year I Lost My Ass

Well, we reached the end of that toilet roll only to start another one, because that is what we do for as long as we are allowed to continue revolutions around the sun – we keep going.

2020 was a terrible year for so many. My brain is incapable of processing the number of losses suffered on a global scale. Be it jobs, security, rights, sanity, relationships or life. My brain is not just incapable of these calculations, it has plain refused to entertain those thoughts on behalf of my heart. My heart, that sensitive little blood pumping work horse who not once allows itself to stop. Thank goodness.

I don’t believe the majority of people are willing and able to bring themselves to fully comprehend what was lost in 2020.

Here is a list of a few more losses suffered last year:

- People lost their shit. And over the most ridiculous things like toilet paper, having to wear a mask to secure toilet paper and being held to the consequences resulting from not wearing a mask when asked to while attempting to purchase toilet paper. Pause for a moment and let that last sentence hang around in your mind. 2020 made that happen. I didn’t make it up! Recently I saw a news piece showing a man (40’s) lying down on the floor in a Costco to protest being asked to wear a mask. He spoke loudly, he beat his hands at his sides and wildly kicked his legs when an employee asked him to get up. Now, I am not judging for I too have participated in such behaviour MANY times. Granted I was three, but hey… some of us mature faster than others.

 - People lost their damn minds. 2020 should be dubbed “The Year of The Karen”. For those of you not in the know about the Karen phenomenon, here is a description courtesy of Urban Dictionary:

 “Karen is a pejorative term used in the United States and other English-speaking countries for a woman perceived as entitled or demanding beyond the scope of what is appropriate or necessary. A common stereotype is that of a white woman who uses her privilege to demand her own way at the expense of others.’

 Basically, a Karen is a I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER type person (There is a male equivalent, but it seems no one can agree on the name… Chad, Terry, Kyle, Kevin, Steve). You can often find a Karen on her cellphone calling the police to report a black man who lives in her neighborhood, simply living his life in her neighbourhood. I didn’t make that up either.

 More recently a Karen was videoed in a UPS store claiming that she didn’t have to wear a mask because that space was government property and not a private business. Would it be safe to say that most Karen types suffer from a lack of oxygen to their brain? Possibly. But that would involve science and Karen types DO NOT enjoy hard facts.

 As always when I download my thoughts into reality, I must go within and search myself. Am I a Karen? My immediate answer is: no fucking way. I can honestly say I’ve never once asked to see a manager or called the police to report someone eating their lunch on a park bench. I do not enjoy confrontation. Unless there is a bully involved. Then I will drag that person to hell with me. I much prefer discussion over going straight to the ‘I triple dog dare you!’ approach to the world. (If you got that reference, you are my new favourite) Because that is who a Karen really is… someone who jumps right to the most extreme action in order to satisfy their need to be superior. Truly, we should feel sorry for these people because instead of engaging they’re raging. And how awful must their insides feel… always full of anger, fear and self doubt. I say instead of judging these Karen types or putting them on blast on social media, we should hug the shit out of them. Just grab them and squeeze as hard as you fucking can until they stop talking. Peaceful solutions my friends, peaceful solutions.

 - Pets lost their faith in us. Children a close second. If you are a proud owner of a pet or a child, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

I’ve always operated under the notion that my cat loves it when I’m home and hates it when I leave. 2020 has taught me it might be the other way around. Because our animals are, well, animals we just believe our presence is the greatest gift in their lives. Remember when you were old enough to be left alone by your parents and once you had the taste of that kind of freedom, you just wanted more of it and couldn’t wait for them to go out? I feel it’s like that with our pets now. We might not think animals have a routine or preferences or enjoy some alone time, but we’d be wrong.

I think at first our pets were thrilled. If we are home more it means more time for prolonged petting, walks and the opportunity to ritualistically train us to respond to their caterwauls for more food and treats than normal. But then as the weeks of lockdown and working from home increased, so did our pets desire to kill us in our sleep.

 I’m pretty sure my cat has asked me several times using her feline glare: “why the fuck won’t you just leave?”. It would be naïve of us to assume we don’t disrupt their day with our constant noise making and snacking and scotch drinking that leads to a good buzz that leads to showing too much affection to our pets. To the point where they run and hide when they see us coming. Please tell me I didn’t describe just my own experience.

 There is such a thing as everything in moderation, we know this, so I think it can be applied here. People, get away from your pets. Give them the space you often desire from human beings. Because if you don’t, that random turd in your shoe could be pointing to a much larger, more alarming problem you’re about to encounter.

 I had the absolute blessing of being able to assist in caring for and raising of my three nephews (12,9,6) for the last 11 years. So, when I say: ‘children are always watching us’, I feel I know what I’m talking about. I’ve been mimicked so often by these young boys that I’ve had to pause due to mortification. Children will hold you accountable without even knowing it. I’ve had some behaviours of mine corrected by a 5-year-old and let me tell you, it stings like hell.

 As adults, when our world was thrown into turmoil because of Covid-19, we looked to our medical health professionals and our politicians for guidance. Basically, we searched for those who would lead us. The children – looked to us. And while many adults handled this responsibility the best they possibly could, many more failed miserably and displayed attitudes I can only describe as juvenile, damaging and pathetic. I suppose it doesn’t help if the people the adults are looking to for help are themselves - juvenile, damaging and pathetic.

 When I say we still have not grasped just how much has been lost over the past year, I’m hinting at integrity, compassion and creditability. Three vital qualities you’d hope people want to instill into their children. But if they themselves are unable to display such valuable traits, what does this say for the children who are looking up to them as an example on how to act when life gets challenging?

 For myself in 2020, I gained by losing.

When they locked our gyms down for four months last spring, I came close to being one of those people who lost their shit. While people were moaning about wearing a mask for 20 minutes in the grocery store, I was contemplating if murdering those people could be considered a cardio exercise and would that hold up in a court of law.

To reflect on that time period now (especially since our gyms are closed AGAIN at the moment) the loss of the gyms brought me the knowledge of how important the routine of going to and being in the gym is to my mental health. I won’t launch into how I feel about shopping malls being open and gyms being closed despite their proven benefit to one’s overall health because then I really will lose my shit.

People always say getting to the gym is the hardest part and once they’re there it’s easy to workout. And for many that is the truth, but for me it’s all a part of the workout. Getting to the gym is the psychological effort. Putting in the work at the gym is the physical. You can’t have one without the other. I became so pathetic that I’d often walk to the closed gym from my house, stare at the closed doors and then walk home. 1.5 hour round trip. True story.

Remember a few years back everyone became obsessed with that Netflix show ‘Tidying Up with Marie Kondo’? It is the show where that lovely woman from Japan showed us all how to declutter our homes by getting rid of anything that didn’t bring us joy. Those acid wash jeans from 1989… sit with them… hold them close to your chest… if they don’t make you happy, remove them from your space. Well, the same idea can be applied to people and ideas and even feelings. And 2020 was a great year for simplifying our lives. I’ve heard so many people talk about how they can’t wait to get back to ‘normal’… not me. I’ve already started my ‘new normal’.

The loss of drama has gained me peace and a better understanding of the importance of remaining true to who I am instead of trying to please others in hopes it wins me points. Because it doesn’t. Because its inauthentic and only brings you more loss and more drama. And anxiety. And sleepless nights. And an overall sense of hatred for everyone. 2020 gave me the option to no longer care about the things that don’t make me happy and to embrace the process of letting all that stupid bullshit fade away.

It was a year of gained focus.

It was a year of gained appreciation.

It was a year of gained gratitude.

It was a year of gained love for myself.

 I’m going to leave you now, but not before I share one of my favorite songs by the Tragically Hip:

In A World Possessed by The Human Mind

Just give me the news

It can all be lies

Exciting over fair or the right thing at the right time

Everything is clear

Just how you described

The way it appears, "A world possessed by the human mind"

 Then I think I smiled

Then I think you said, "it's fine"

And quietly I dressed, in a world completely possessed by the human mind

 We're in awe of no one

We've none of their fear

Fighting's goin' nowhere and we stay right here

Where everything is quiet

A little super dangerous

"In the shadow of the law and with colours of justice"

 Then I hope I smiled

Then I'm sure you said, "It's fine"

They got no interest in a world completely possessed by the human mind

 Everything is quiet

A little super dangerous

Quiet enough to hear God rustlin' around in the bushes

Oh, but it was you

Girl, I was so afraid

You said, "You shoulda seen the look on your face"

 Then I hope I laughed

Then I hope I said, "it's fine"

And quietly undressed in a world completely possessed by the human mind

 Oh it was you

Girl, I was so afraid

You said, "You shoulda seen the look on your face"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mgXphurrsE0

[curse-of-the-dark-emerald]

Curse of the Dark Emerald, chapter 3.

Back at Green Hill, Tom tossed a few times in his bed, trying so hard to get to sleep. But everything he tried, he couldn’t shut off his brain. He glanced at Maddie, her back facing the opposite of his gaze, she didn’t seem to be bothered or notice his restlessness.

He gave up trying to ignore the growing worry for Sonic. Tom pushes the blanket away and stands up slowly, making sure not to disturb his wife.

“I’m overthinking, I’m overthinking…”

Tom left his room and went to the ladder and stairway to the attic, and stood on the spot, deciding if checking on him was really a good idea this late in the night. He scratches his hair nervously and it thought, it was now or never. Tom was inches off from touching the floorboards, but stopped.

Tom shook his head and sighs heavily “I’m such a worry-wart.”

Tom gets back in his room and glances at the alarm clock on his nightstand; reading 2:32 am. He needed to be up in 4 hours for work, and this wasn’t helping him. Tom gets back in bed and just after a few minutes, he finally goes into slumber.

…

Sonic awoke and jolted his body up, eyes flashing to ocean blue for a moment and froze.

“Where-? I was..”

Immediately, confusion settled in and he sluggishly stood up, and made a run for it, only to be hit face-first into a wall of glass. “Ack!!”

Taking a moment to actually scan his surroundings, he saw a new opening, Sonic made another leap and ran to escape, only to have the same result. He continued to ram himself  into the walls though he knew it wasn’t working, each time it put his body in pain, each time he cried and yelled at every hit.

“Hey!! Anyone there?!”

Sonic’s heart began to throb and race against his chest, his eyes frantically looking for a way out, he jumped the highest he possibly could, reaching under 15 feet but it was still too high to climb or reach. Sonic grit his teeth and more panic took over. He pounded his hands on the glass, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to not be afraid, and the one person who could be responsible for all this…

“You’re awake?”

A voice on speaker somewhere within this glass prison crackles, Sonic looks up, a man with somewhat dark skin, a short beard, and gentle smile stares back.

“Good to see you’re still alive, what was your name again? Sonic?”

Sonic only glares at the man, teeth grinding, “Who are you?”

“I’m Agent Stone, close assistant to someone you...should already know.” Stone nods his head at Sonic, in a pleasant demeanor.

“Yeah, I pieced that together, right before you knocked me out.” Sonic’s voice turns sharp and cold at him.

“Don’t worry about my boss, he’s not actually here at the moment.” Stone gestured with his hand, “You’ll just be with me for now.”

“You think I’m gonna just sit in your little fish aquarium, and you what? Drown me?” Sonic retorts, keeping one brow raised at Stone.

“Jeez, someone’s a little morbid.” Stone panned, and shook his head. “No, Sonic. I wouldn’t do that. I’m not that...you know..” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Anyways, my mission is half finished; you were pretty easy to catch as long as I wasn’t seen by you. And might as well tell you why you’re here: Your purpose is to simply charge power to my bosses machines. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Sonic caught a glimpse of something in Stone’s expression, was it doubt, or fear? He didn’t sound all that convinced to himself. Sonic noticed that he didn’t have the Rings with him or the Emerald anymore, creating a painful knot in his stomach.

“Damn it..”

Bzzt -”Hurry up, Stone, or else I’ll finish you off first.”-

Stone flinched and hastily started pushing buttons. Sonic’s ears twitch at the voice from the speaker, he knew that voice and confirmed it,

“It IS Eggman. But where??” He tried to look for his enemy, but saw him nowhere.

Sounds of whirring and machinery became louder, making the glass tube he was contained in to vibrate. Sonic knew he was in serious trouble, he desperately looked for a way out. Cursing at himself that he should’ve been more careful in the first place…Stone was concentrated on the dash in front of him, jumpstarting the necessary power and programs to begin whatever it was Sonic feared he was going to do. After a few more moments, Stone grins.

“Finished that. You ready, Sonic?”

Sonic glares at him again.

“Good enough.”

Stone holds up a bright, green object in his hand, “I assume you already know what this thing is?”

Sonic’s eyes went wide and gasped. “The...Chaos Emerald?”

“Sure, if that's what you wanna call it.” Stone shrugged, and left his spot.

Sonic’s weary gaze never left following the accomplice of his enemy, as he carried the Emerald.

“I ran a small test on this object, it has a lot of radioactive-like energy, but not toxic in any shape or form so I can touch it, it seems. You, and it should be enough to complete the procedures.”

He climbed on an upper catwalk that Sonic could see enough to watch him. Stone opened a metal door to a new chamber with a wide window; and set the Emerald in the center of the chamber on top of a flat surfaced support beam. Stone quickly returns to his original post.

“I’m not afraid of you.” Sonic spat sharply.

“Oh, I know.” Agent makes a brief smile at him while he glances at Sonic, then focuses back on the control panel.

“Don't worry, I’ll make it quick. I honestly am impressed with how brave you are. If this goes smoothly, you might live.”

What’s with this guy? He’s definitely not like Eggman, so he’s kind of nice..?

Sonic blinks rapidly, trying to not fall for this man’s showcase of kindness and complements.

“Yet, I’m here, because I was so stupid.” Sonic’s voice trembles, it was low enough for Stone to not hear it.

“Initiating power-point.”

A cool, robotic voice echoed throughout, Sonic looks at Stone for any changes, or any chance this man might change his mind and let him go, but he could tell Stone was now avoiding any eye contact. Sonic’s head dipped down. He sat on his knees, his soft ears drooping downward.

“Powering at 20%...”

“I’m so stupid…”

The machines began to point lasers at the Chaos Emerald in the other room, a metal prong touches the top of it, getting ready to extract and connect it to the machines Stone desired to make stronger for his Master.

“Powering at 50%”

“I’ll never see them again.”

Sonic closed his eyes, head still down looking like a wounded puppy. He’d forgotten at the moment where he was and what was about to happen. His thoughts went to Tom and Maddie, missing their smiles. Their laughter, their hugs.

“Powering at 75%..”

“I HATE myself…” Sonic makes a guttural growl in his throat.

In the chamber with the Chaos Emerald...the vibrant green color in it’s center fades briefly to a darker shade of emerald green. Then for a second, to a grayish black. And back to it’s normal green. Sparks of its energy popped in the air, making the window nearby actually crack from the inside.

“90%”

Stone only saw for a second Sonic unresponsive with his head bent down. He wished he didn’t. His own chest tightened with what he tried to hold back: guilt. He pushed the turmoil away to finish what he started, placing his hand on the trigger to start the extraction.

“93%”

Sonic knew he was going to die. In what he felt would be his final moments, his mind flashes countless images of his guardians. Every moment he spent with them was the happiest he had ever felt. He would have given anything to be with them again, talk to them..let them know he was leaving for good. That bare minimum of time he wished he could have, would never come to be.

“I hate myself…” A single tear rolled down Sonic’s cheek.

The Chaos Emeralds hue began to fade….

“Power, complete.”

Stone pulls the trigger. Sparks of white electricity light up at the top of the holding chamber to Sonic’s prison and they plunged downwards through the glass.

Sonic let out a blood curdling scream. He lurches his body up, seizing from the pain caused by the machines.

“UUUAAAAGGHH!!”

Stone watched the monitor closely,  scanning the amount of power being taken away from the Chaos Emerald and from Sonic simultaneously. A digital scale on the monitors revealed a blue colored energy leaving Sonic’s small body, and from the Chaos Emerald, it’s own separate energy was, he saw, destabilizing. Stone hoped it wouldn’t overflow too much.

Sonic slumps over and then falls to the floor, letting his arms support him up. He grit his teeth so hard he thought his jaw was going to break. The Emerald loses all traces of its green color and begins to morph out wisps of black smoke, becoming dark.

Suddenly, something was happening.

Stone finally looked at Sonic and his eyes grew large at what he began to witness…

Still screaming in agony, Sonic glared at Stone with the most enraged and angry scowl.  He put his hands on his head, shaking uncontrollably, while his muscles and body throbbed and wriggled.. Sonic’s teeth began to enlarge into sharp, longer fangs, his sky blue fur darkens to navy. His gloves rip and become torn apart revealing elongating claws at his fingertips and tufts of long, white fur breaks through the skin of both his wrists. The rest of his entire body shifts into a bigger build and height. Sonic’s sneakers were still intact, but metal spikes poked out from it’s material. His once neatly, smooth quills began to grow longer, with coarse, white fading tips at the end. Still shaking from the pain, Sonic let out a ferocious roar.

“I’LL KILL YOU!”

Stone realizes he was not safe anymore and makes a run for it.

Sonic has had enough, and with his sheer strength alone, breaks his prison of glass walls into thousands of pieces, shattering the entire tube. He jumps out, hand outreaching for his enemy, wanting to tear out his throat. Sonic looks everywhere for Stone, wanting his blood. This new desire didn’t make him question what he was thinking, he wanted to kill and slice something, no matter what it was.

Briefly coming to his senses, he growled in annoyance and went to the other room with the Chaos Emerald, he smashed the window from outside, and furiously grabbed it back in his possession. Along the way, his eyes spotted his pouch of Rings sitting close to where Stone had been standing before.

“You’re lucky Stone. Maybe next time you catch me, you won't be.” Sonic sneers to himself, his green eyes narrowed into slits.

Sonic jumps high and breaks through the metal enclosed ceiling, finally free. He roared again, letting out his anger and fear from being captured. The now full moon shone and bathed him in its light, revealing the new beastly shape in its wake. Sonic lands and runs, noticing he wasn’t going as fast like he usually does, but pushes that aside. Still angered and hurt by what had become of him, he howled like a lone wolf in the night. None of this made him question it; to him it felt natural and as if he was like this his whole life. The Sonic he had always known as himself was swallowed aside. After calming down just a little, Sonic had stopped running and walked at a regular pace. His mind was in a daze and then he remembered what was most important:

He held the blackened Chaos Emerald above his head, a fascination washed over him, it’s current presence was an entirely different entity. But he was happy it wasn’t in his enemy’s hands. Sonic holds it tightly and in the other hand he opened the pouch for his Rings and takes one,

“I have to..to get home-“

An explosion to his right side blows dirt on him and he jumped, scared out of his skin. Sonic growls, his anger returns again and a white, egg shaped robot hovering above him. Several were along with the one that made the first explosion.

“UGH!!! Leave me ALONE!!”

More of the robots fired at different times and Sonic evades every one, tired of being reminded and chased by the one who has tried and failed to kill him he leaps into the air, grabs the nearest bot and squeezes it into his chest, crushing it to pieces. Not wanting to prolong this stupid fiasco, Sonic makes a run for it, the bots follow and continue to fire at him mercilessly. Sonic tosses the golden ring that he depended on to save himself, his expression desperate to survive.

The ring opens, on the other side was the one place he called his home and jumped in; but a robot had managed to land a strike on his back, before cutting off the rest of the fleet. Sonic lands on his chest.

“Ugh…” Sonic winced at the new injury he was slapped with. He weakly sees the house just before him.

“Tom..!” He cried in a broken voice.

He needed to see his best friend. He needed to get to him. But, the cruelty of the long night had taken a toll on his strength; and Sonic had given up trying to stand up.

He wasn’t far from the patio of the house; the front door opened and Tom closed it behind him. He turns to see a patch of blue fur, it was Sonic lying on the ground, he froze in horror and drops his car keys. 

“S-Sonic!?”

“Donut lord..” Sonic called Tom's nickname, he felt a little sense of relief to see him.

“What happened?! What-“ Tom pauses and finally sees what had become of Sonic, he was almost unrecognizable; the fur, claws, and teeth gave it all away, his arms and back were almost covered in blood from cuts and little pieces of glass sparkled faintly on his messy fur.

“What happened to you?” Tom breathes out a scared, and shaky voice.

Sonic was too weak to answer, and he finally passed out. Tom turned him over on his back, listening for his heart beat, and it was moderately beating, to his hopes. The sun begins to rise and it’s light crept onto Sonics hand and on Tom, welcoming the new morning. Sonic’s body spits out purple wisps of an unknown energy to Tom, engulfing the hedgehog until it vanishes, and Sonic's appearance returns to his normal blue fur.

Tom turns in different directions to see if anything was watching him and he picks up Sonic, and carries him into the house to treat his wounds. 

[space-blue]

The Last Ingredient

A little bell peels in the air somewhere, comes muffled to our ears and makes me smile. It is proof that time still flows, that soon we'll return indoors, where breathing through your nose doesn't trigger a gagging reflex.

"Rachar, do you think the weather was a selling point when they decided to build our prison here?" I ask, panting.

"Totally. I can see the ad, 'atmosphere of the 6th circle of Hell, hot, humid, and thick as pudding.'"

I stare up at the ever shifting pattern of lush and exotic leaves, criss-crossing above our heads in a breeze we can see but never quite feel. Rachar, halfway through his thirty years sentence, jest as he might, is much more acclimatised than I ever wish to become.

"Don't you need my help for gathering more ingredients, Ira? I quite enjoy the rush of danger from those errands."

"No. No more errands," I say, "I only need one last ingredient, and..." I make a fluttering motion with my hand, mimic myself flying away. Free. "Soon now."

This news makes my friend stir and sit up. After three years of secretly brewing this potion, he must have thought me all talk.

"What is it, this last ingredient?"

I make a face up at him, peering into the eyes smouldering behind his own little jungle of tangled hair.

"It's something I'm not sure I can get."

"For real? But you've been so keen on escaping this whole time... Well, maybe it's for the best. Considered what they'd do to you if they catch you. I kinda like you, you know. I'd rather not see that done to you. No one gets out of here unless their time is up."

I don't know if it's respect or pity I feel surging in me when he speaks like this, him who won't rebel, won't try to escape. Who sits day after day in this green hell of a place, knowing there will be endless tomorrows made of the same infernal heat, the same corrosive dullness, the same absence of freedom. Making it out doesn't even matter. Trying is my only way to remain sane. I can't relate to his defeatism and meek acceptance. Not that it's easy to ever relate to Rachar, who was done in for running the biggest, most lethal cartel of drugs for were-animals Europe had ever seen, and killing, in his werebear form, five of the special-ops werewolves that were sent to arrest him. A sleek piece of remorseless trash, though a decent fellow one-on-one.

"Ira, you're growling."

"Sorry, mind wandered."

Rachar laughs, pats my hair with a hand monstrous enough to crush my skull in a squeeze. "Think of the future. When you finish brewing that potion of yours and pull a Shawshank over the eyes of Erikson and the crew."

"Don't go talking so loud, naming names and mentioning potions!" I sit up, unnerved. "The break is almost over."

"Ease up Ira, I'd know if anyone were around. I wouldn't let them lock you down with the bloodies either."

"Aye, like you could help it if they decided to."

Which is not the real problem. To determine the strength of new inmate magi, the prison's surgeons test the glands that secrete magica, always found in the armpits and throat. That test labelled me as a mere C-class magus, hardly a trouble to handle here. In comparison, A-class magi, like blood witches, are near impossible to catch alive. Meaning the handful of them we have in the basement make my werebear-druglord friend look like a philanthropist. They're kept with their hands in wet casts so they can't sharpen spelling tools, their teeth in moulds to keep them from biting themselves bloody. Not enviable. But people like me, with a little known organ tucked away behind the stomach, who can brew potions in their own bodies–potion being the romantic name for a magical bile–are extremely rare, and impossible to safely detain. A-class treatment wouldn't cut it. So long as I'm fed, I can always brew something annoying or even lethal to my handlers. S-class, maybe? As in Straight-to-firing-squad-class.

"Surely Erikson wouldn't let them take you away. The man is fond of you."

"Brewers are thought extinct since the mid 20th century. They'd probably dissect me, Rachar. Officers would not care for my being some guardian's pet prisoner."

"Eurk–well, I won't talk so... What's that last ingredient anyway?" His hand flies up before I can answer. "Speaking of the Devil," he mutters.

"Rachar, Ira, you two deaf? Didn't hear the second bell?"

The Devil indeed.

"Ah, Erikson. We were busy exchanging news, so much has happened since yesterday after all."

"You crazies shouldn't even be allowed to meet."

"Crazy? Nonsense, I'm a lamb."

"And I'm perfectly conscious of my actions."

"That just makes you a horrible person, Rachar."

Back in the cool bliss of air-con, I nod to him, a discrete salute I mean as an adieu, his looks are worried, but he tips me an invisible hat before turning away. So long, crazy friend. Up the stairs now, and following Erikson. Like every evening, my aisle is a mess of supernatural creatures and their supernatural gaolers, but I only have eyes for mine.

Erikson. I watch his blond head, his shoulders shifting under his miraculously crisp white shirt–what spell does the man use to keep them dry, I still wonder. By habit, I match his steps. Hateful habit, that makes my face relax, almost smile for him when he looks my way. Too long he's been my mindful captor. The man answering my calls, opening my door. The hand feeding me, the hand swiping me little things, when no one watches. He's a decent guy under the rough persona one needs to work in this jail, and I'm neck deep in Stockholm syndrome.

Erickson, for three years blind to my careful plotting. I hid it all from him, always playing the nice, reasonable lass, caught up in troubles bigger than her. Not the weirdo woman bargaining favours at every turn to obtain samples of hair, skin, blood, fabrics, spices... Stealing food, making some rot, pre-digesting others for the desired effects. Anything that might contain the ingredients my gut craves to continue its infernal distillation. Behind his broad back I've licked the walls of my cell, scratching my tongue over the lead paint till I nearly poisoned myself. It's an organic, messy trade. For three years I've brewed this concoction. Haltingly, with no known recipe, brought forth by my instinct and my need to escape, disappear, melt through walls–any will do so long as I get far away. Where Erikson won't be tearing at my mind, brushing my heart with the very fingers that turn the key in the lock of my cage.

"Ira, you're growling."

"Funny, that's the second time I've been told today." I pace down my little cell and back up to him.

"What is making you so tense?" he asks, leaning against the bars to talk with me.

Erikson. My last ingredient.

"Some internal turmoil over something I need but struggle to obtain."

"That's the point of jails."

"Aye, but smuggling doesn't usually get a magus in jail."

"You were smuggling human flesh!"

I shrug, give him a sad grin. "How would I have known? It was spelled."

He smiles back at me, a show of dimples. "Save it for the judges. Your appeal won't be delayed forever."

Erikson, who believes me when I lie. I step closer, curl my fingers around the cold steel bars. Looking up at him, I whisper, "will you miss me, when I'm gone?"

He frowns. Is it hatred, or love, festering in my pounding chest, that makes me flush and quiver as I wait for his answer?

"I'd like that; missing you. If it means you're acquitted."

The idea of missing him makes my mind trip over itself.

"I think I'd miss you too," I surprise myself saying, "but I don't think I'd like that at all."

I dive in the grey pools of his eyes, so close, like full moons pulling at the tides of my emotions. Erikson murmurs my name like a warning, but doesn't move. I'm on the tip of my toes and my fingers rubbing against the wondrous white shirt and the warm flesh behind it. His breath smells like mints and beer and magica. His lips are hot, firm but hesitant, like a cliched first kiss. His fingers are trailing my jaws, scorching my skin.

In one strong bite his blood comes gushing into my mouth. He cries, rending my heart–part free woman, part betrayer. I swallow my feelings along with coppery blood. There is a burning sensation in my guts as the last ingredient creates a chain reaction. The world dissipates in clouds of matter around me. Erikson's hands reach out but pass right through me. Through my victorious smile and my farewell nod like through a gentle wind.

I'm immaterial.

I'm free.

~~ August 2016 – Theme : Potion and elixirs

[anubislover]

“Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya” Chapter 13: The Lesser Evil

Nami awoke slowly, her fogged brain sluggishly processing her strange surroundings. A high-pitched beeping noise. Low, muttered voices. Scratchy sheets against her skin and a stiff mattress beneath her back. Her eyes cracked open only to immediately shut again in pain from the blinding white light. She attempted to shield them but was startled to find her wrists bound with thick leather straps to a metal headboard.

Memories of Jinzo and the club snapped to the forefront of her mind. Had she been captured? Was this that creep’s brothel? Where was Ikkaku? Was she still bleeding out in the alley? Where was Law?!

Panicked and disoriented, she screamed and struggled helplessly until a pair of large, gloved hands firmly but gently grabbed her shoulders, pinning her down as Law’s hard face blocked out the bright light, allowing Nami to finally see.

“Nami-ya, calm down; you’re in my infirmary.”

“What?”

He neglected to answer as he inspected her eyes, his stern expression softening with relief. “No blue in the iris—looks like I got all of the drug out. Do you remember last night?”

“Of course I remember! Law, you need to get Ikkaku—”

“Right here, Nami,” a voice from one of the other beds groaned. The redhead breathed a deep sigh of relief when she saw Bepo unshackling the engineer before gingerly helping her sit up. There was an IV full of fluids hooked to her arm and she was in one of the Tang’s hospital gowns, but she was alive. “Neptune’s beard, I never want to see another martini again.”

Nausea bubbled in her stomach as Nami recalled Hypnotique and the state she’d had to leave the other woman in. “Those men…they didn’t—”

“They tried.” Penguin’s face was dark as he leaned against the wall. Tension and quiet rage radiated from every pore as he stared at his shipmate, latex gloves squeaking softly as he clenched and unclenched his hands. “We barely got there in time.”

“I was out of bullets, and Mandōreku had me pinned…” Ikkaku trailed off with a shudder.

“Penguin pulled him off you,” Law said quietly, though Nami could see the angry tic in his jaw as he ground his teeth and the way his tattooed knuckles were white with rage as he released the straps around her wrists. “Shot him point-blank in the family jewels.”

“Did you kill him?” Ikkaku asked, turning to the first mate.

“Not right away,” he replied coldly, the brim of his hat casting his eyes in shadow. “You’d lost a lot of blood and the uranos needed to be dealt with immediately, but once Law had you unconscious and in the infirmary, I took care of him.”

“Good. I only wish I could have done it myself,” she snarled. “Apparently, that son of a bitch was the one who spiked our drinks and supplied the drug in the first place.”

“If I’d known that, I’d have let him bleed out from the hole in his crotch instead of finishing him quickly,” Penguin growled. “I thought he was just a regular scumbag.”

“What’s important is that we got the drug out of you both in time,” Law cut in as he helped Nami sit up. “Uranos basically acts as a stimulant and aphrodisiac. If not treated quickly, it can cause enough brain damage to turn even the most level-headed person into a pleasure-addicted zombie. To say nothing of how much it fucks up your liver, kidneys, and reproductive organs.”

“At least your powers could get it out of us,” Nami stated, remembering how he’d managed to remove the birth control from her system.

“Yes, but given how many vital parts it effects and how fast it works, it takes a lot more concentration and energy than usual—especially since I couldn’t afford to treat you one at a time. I also find it’s easier when the patient’s unconscious; a slowed heart rate means the drug’s processed less quickly, plus it lessens the amount of distracting moaning and writhing from the patient. Not that it stops entirely,” he stated, nodding at the leather restraints.

She flushed. So that’s why he knocked her out. She could now clearly remember how she threw herself at him, practically begging him to fuck her. God, how humiliating! And to think she’d been so overwhelmed by need that she nearly hadn’t told Law about Ikkaku. If he hadn’t managed to trick the answer out of her…

“Thanks for getting us, Boss,” Ikkaku said, breaking the tense silence that fell upon the room.

Bepo gave her a faint smile as he rubbed her back, carefully avoiding scratching her with his claws. “Law’d never leave you two behind.”

“Jinzo didn’t think so,” she replied sourly, hands tightening into fists. “Planned on making Nami his star attraction, and he was going to hand me over to the bartender as a bonus for his ‘services’. Knew there was something off about that guy, especially when he wouldn’t get us water.”

“I’m sorry I left you alone with him,” Nami whispered guiltily, drawing her knees against her chest. Mandōreku had seemed so nice, but behind that charming smile had been utter scum. To think, she’d even encouraged her friend to give that creep a chance!

Ikkaku shook her head insistently. “Nami, I specifically told you to go to the bathroom because I had the feeling something was up, and I wanted you safely out of the way in case things turned violent. Which they did, and you ended up coming out and saving my ass anyway, so no harm, no foul.”

“What’s ‘foul’ is the fact that that bastard had enough uranos to spike the drinks of an entire bar,” Penguin snapped. Despite the girls being safe and sound, his scowl hadn’t eased up, and his posture still implied that he’d like to go out and kill something. But even though anger radiated off of him, he stayed put, not moving so much as an inch from his place by Ikkaku’s bed.

Gloved hand rubbing his goatee, Law nodded in agreement. “Uranos is extracted from a berry that only grows on a single island in the South Blue—Jinzo must have sunk a fortune into getting enough juice to dose a whole bar full of women. Just 15ml costs at least 50,000 belli.”

“If he got the shipment in recently, plus factoring in buying property, remodeling, paying his guards, and all his other expenses, no wonder he didn’t have the money to pay you and Drake,” Nami said, tallying up the rough costs of everything Jinzo had likely been spending in the past month.

Frown deepening, the surgeon looked at her in consideration. “He and Kimo-ya had always done well in the black market trade, but I guess with so many upstart pirates moving on to the New World to take advantage of the chaos, he wanted a fallback in case his normal clientele dried up. It’s not a bad plan, but he should never have tried to muscle in on Haiko-ya’s territory; she may be married to his partner, but she’s basically the unofficial ruler of Grimm’s nightlife.”

“Haiko’s that powerful?”

“She’s established quite the foothold over the past two years. Hiroshi once told me that, before she married Kimo-ya, Grimm was even worse; the dead bodies of whores were regularly found on street corners, drug lords ran rampant, you never knew if you were drinking alcohol or formaldehyde, and the slave trade was out of control. When Haiko-ya arrived, she used her influence to start cleaning things up. The first thing she did was reform the brothels; because of her, they’re now run like legitimate businesses with willing employees that are treated well.”

“Yeah? Jinzo seemed to have had other ideas,” Nami said softly. “He had us all drugged so he could cut down labor costs. No need to pay whores if they’re mindless sex slaves.”

Law scoffed. “Idiot. Women who take uranos have a life expectancy of a month, tops, and that’s still longer than men. Aside from the organ damage the drug can cause, being in a constant state of arousal like that typically results in dehydration, puts a massive strain on the heart, and when you’re only focused on fulfilling your sexual desires, basic human needs like eating and sleeping fall by the wayside. Most wither away to nothing.”

Penguin took off his hat to rub his forehead, scowl deepening. “So, even if he’d succeeded, once those girls died, he’d have to pay out again for a new batch of brain-fucked prostitutes.”

Nami shuddered at the thought. That could have been them. She would have died a mindless sex slave. Despite her life of servitude and the dangers she’d faced as a woman on the Grand Line, such a fate had never even occurred to her. Even when Absalom had kidnapped her and tried to marry her, she’d never even considered it—mainly because she’d been unconscious, but also because she never doubted that Sanji or Luffy or Zoro would save her. Those three always seemed to show up when she was in trouble. But Law…

She had far more faith in the Surgeon of Death than she used to, but it wasn’t the same instinctive trust that she had with her nakama—if she hadn’t gone looking for him, would he have shown up in time to get her and Ikkaku out of there? Luffy would drop everything if he even thought one of his friends was in trouble. Zoro, for all his terrible direction sense, never failed to stumble across her in the nick of time. Sanji had a sixth sense for women in danger. Even Usopp and Chopper, her fellow scaredy-cats, could be relied on to overcome their own fears if she were in trouble.

But Law had been on his own mission. The man had his own goals and priorities that wouldn’t always line up with hers. She couldn’t always rely on him to save her. She shouldn’t always rely on others.

Ignorant to the navigator’s inner turmoil, Law shook his head. “You’re assuming Haiko-ya would let him live that long. She already knew he was opening a brothel, so the second she caught even a whiff of uranos being used on the girls, she’d burn the place to the ground.”

“Unless…” Bepo began before stopping himself. “Sorry.”

“Unless what, Bepo?” Ikkaku asked curiously.

“Speak,” Law ordered, eyes narrowed.

The bear looked nervous as he twiddled his claws. “Well, what if Jinzo planned on getting Miss Haiko out of the way? With Mr. Kimo out of commission, it would be a lot easier for him to take over and drive her out. Or kill her. Or,” he swallowed harshly, “maybe even drug her and add her to the brothel.”

It made a sick amount of sense, and Nami watched Law’s gold eyes burn with understanding. “Haiko-ya probably suspected Jinzo was looking to take her out before his new business opened. That’s why she asked me to go after him last night.” Glare deepening, Law stalked towards the door, motioning for Penguin to follow. The first mate reluctantly left his post, tossing a concerned glance at Ikkaku before leaving the infirmary.

The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence until Nami uttered, “Bepo?”

“Yes, Nami?”

“What happened to the other girls? The ones in the club that were also drugged?”

Her fellow navigator seemed reluctant to answer, glancing around as if hoping someone would pop out to answer the unpleasant question for him. “Well…Captain’s primary concern was you two, but he did order us to sedate and deliver them to Miss Haiko. Once he was sure you would be alright, he went to see what he could do for them, but given how far gone most of them looked…” He bowed his head sadly. “I’m sorry.”

Nami bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes as she stared down at the white tiled floor. Given all that she’d heard about the drug, she felt overwhelming pity for those girls. What would happen to them? What kind of lives could they expect? Did they have husbands or boyfriends or families? Would they ever know the girls’ fates? Were they better off not knowing?

“I’m so sorry, Nami,” Ikkaku murmured, catching her attention. The Heart Pirate looked utterly devastated, tears welling up in her dark eyes. “I was so, so stupid. I figured since Haiko’d been cleaning up the clubs and bars, it was safe to have a night out.”

“You couldn’t have known this would happen,” Nami replied weakly.

Bepo nodded emphatically as he pulled his crewmate into a tight hug. “Don’t blame yourself; even Law thought it was safe enough for you two to go out alone! New bars don’t open without Miss Haiko’s approval, after all. And with the way she’s been running things, it’s more dangerous to go out alone during the day than at night!”

“Really?” Nami asked, surprised.

“Oh yeah. Since Miss Haiko pretty much runs the island at night, she doesn’t get involved with things during the day. It’s the compromise she made with Mr. Kimo and Jinzo. So, slavers and stuff are still a problem while the sun’s up, but once things get dark, it’s a lot safer.”

“Kimo’s really ok with stuff like that?”

“Yeah,” Bepo said nervously, round ears drooping. “He may be more honorable than Jinzo, but he’s still pretty ruthless—wouldn’t be in the black market organ trade otherwise. Handing over control of the island at night to Miss Haiko was basically his wedding gift to her. Jinzo really hadn’t liked that—the red light district had been his domain.”

Frowning, Nami considered his words. Since arriving on Grimm, she’d assumed that Kimo was the lesser of the two evils between himself and Jinzo. But something wasn’t quite right; considering all the work that went into opening a new business, Jinzo must have been planning on starting the brothel for at least a month, if not two. Yet if Kimo had handed control of Grimm’s evening affairs over to Haiko, there was no way Jinzo would have dared disrespected his partner like that, right? And Kimo would have had to be completely stupid not to notice his partner muscling in on his wife’s territory.

Stupid, or in on it, Nami thought, eyes widening as she remembered her brief encounter with Haiko. The club owner had seemed pretty pissed about what had happened to her husband, but not nearly as distraught as one would expect from a woman whose beloved had been possibly assaulted by his long-time partner. And she’d been so quick to point the finger at Jinzo. More than eager to push a slighted Law in his direction. To step back and let someone else get their hands dirty.

It was all conjecture, and she had no proof, but Nami’s gut had told her when they first met that she was the kind of woman who could slit a man’s throat with a smile. And now her gut was saying Haiko was far more involved in this whole mess than she’d let on.

Lost in thought, Nami didn’t realize Law had returned until she heard a low, rapid thumping inches from her face. Looking up, she jumped back like a startled cat as she found herself staring at a beating heart in a translucent cube.

“What the hell is that?!” she screeched.

“I think that’s pretty obvious, Nami-ya; a heart. Specifically, Jinzo’s.”

“Why do you even have that?!”

Tossing the disembodied organ causally into the air and catching it with one hand, he replied, “Well, because I was a bit preoccupied with saving your life, I didn’t have the time to make that bastard suffer like I wanted to. So, I took his heart and handed the rest of him over to Drake-ya.” His grin was cruel and pleased, especially as the organ in his hand beat faster, clearly under some kind of distress. “When I explained the situation to him, he was more than happy to deliver justice in my stead. Especially since Haiko-ya agreed to pay him the money he’s owed, plus a bonus for taking care of this disgusting pest problem.”

“What’s Drake doing with him?” Ikkaku asked, glaring at the heart with cold determination.

“Torture. He promised to use every trick the Marines and his father ever taught him. Broken bones, waterboarding, hot pokers, acid in open wounds, bamboo shards under his nails—but he’s not allowed to kill him.” Gold eyes landed on Nami. “That’ll be my pleasure. Unless you’d like that honor for yourself?” he asked, offering the organ to the navigator like a macabre Valentine.

She gasped in horror. “I’m not killing anyone!”

“You sure? After what he did to you? Think about what would have happened, Nami-ya; he tried to make you a sex slave. He would have profited off your body and laughed as you served every sick scumbag willing to pay. You’d be used, abused, and at the mercy of men who’d only see you as a notch on their belts and a warm hole to fuck,” he sneered, grip on the fragile organ tightening unconsciously.

She shuddered. The picture Law painted wasn’t pretty. Just the thought of what she would have been reduced to made her want to vomit. She and Ikkaku and all those other girls…

Swallowing hard, Nami nervously met his cold eyes. “Law, did you manage to cure the other girls?” Bepo had been doubtful, but a small part of her prayed for a miracle from the doctor.

Law ran a hand through his dark hair. “Haiko-ya’s familiar with uranos—she had some anaphrodisiac on hand to hold back the effects, but not enough for everyone. Some I was able to fully cure. Others will likely be nymphomaniacs for the rest of their lives, but at least still have their higher reasoning intact. Several unfortunately succumbed to the permanent effect before I even got to them. And a few had been taking other drugs that didn’t play well with the addition of uranos and alcohol—needless to say, they died.”

Her throat tightened like a fist had wrapped around it. “Oh my god.”

Holding the rapidly-beating heart out towards her like a rose or box of chocolates, he asked coaxingly, “So, considering the number of lives Jinzo ruined tonight, are you sure you don’t want to give it a little squeeze?”

Fingers twitching, Nami was tempted to take him up on his offer. To grab that fragile organ and crush it between her fingers. To make Jinzo suffer in a way he never could have prepared for in the name of the women he’d been willing to use for his own ends.

But her conscience won out. She wasn’t a murderer. Maybe if it had been Arlong’s heart, she would have done it. This Fishman had spent nearly a decade pushing her to the breaking point. Hell, she’d tried to kill him at least a dozen different ways before resigning herself to the fragile glimmer of hope that he’d honor their deal and free her village.

She had no doubt that Jinzo was just as bad as Arlong, and he’d certainly wronged her and her friend, but as far as personal stakes went, Jinzo paled in comparison. So, even though he deserved it, she couldn’t bring herself to kill him in such a callous, ignoble way. Luffy would never approve. None of her nakama would. She didn’t give a damn about honor or fair fights, but killing him like this, when the man had no chance to fight back, was a slippery slope she didn’t want to go down.

Gingerly, Nami pushed Law’s hand away. “I’m sure. It just…I could never…”

The Surgeon of Death seemed disgruntled that she refused his macabre gift, but he got over it quickly. “Suit yourself. Ikkaku?”

The engineer seemed to consider it, but one look at Nami’s ashen face changed her mind. “Better take that somewhere else, Boss—I don’t give a shit what you do to that bastard, but Nami doesn’t need to see it.”

Law glanced at the woman in question before shrugging and tossing the heart onto an empty bed. Casually, he checked Ikkaku’s IV and stitches along her side as he said, “Fine. I should call Drake-ya first and see if he’s gotten bored of ripping chunks of flesh off of the bastard, anyway. Hate to interfere with his fun. Penguin’s getting your breakfast—eat up, then get dressed. The log pose has reset and we’re leaving Grimm no later than sunset. This visit has been an absolute shit show.” Satisfied with his engineer’s condition, Law retrieved Jinzo’s heart, tossing it up and down like a beanbag as he ordered, “If you have anything you wanted to pick up before we head off, this is your last chance—though you’re both wearing the uniforms. No arguments.”

“Fine by me,” Nami murmured, refusing to look at the vulnerable red organ.

Her chin was lifted gently, and she was forced to meet Law’s tired eyes. “Nami-ya, I promise the next island we land on will be much more relaxing. No black markets, drugs, or creepy psychopaths.”

“That…that sounds great, Law,” she replied uncomfortably.

“That’s it? No complaining? No demands for monetary compensation? No insults?” His frown deepened as he took a step back, taking care to keep Jinzo’s heart just out of her line of sight. “What’s on your mind, Nami-ya?

She worried her lip. Haiko was Law’s friend, or at least they were on good terms. Should she really risk inciting his anger by making accusations against her without proof?

Then again, Law was an intelligent man, and he knew the woman better than Nami did. If anyone could put her mind at ease and prove her theory right or wrong, it was him.

For better or worse, she’d trust his judgment.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Nami asked, “Did Haiko ever tell you what kind of accident her husband was in?”

A dark blue eyebrow raised in bemusement. “No. We were a bit preoccupied with brainstorming ways of making Jinzo pay for his transgressions. I assume it was something pretty serious, though.”

“But she knows how good a doctor you are. You completely repaired Hiroshi’s hands. You can pull drugs and poison out of people and find out exactly what’s wrong with someone with your powers. Why wouldn’t she ask you to look Kimo over and see if you could help him?”

“Because—” Law paused, quickly realizing he had no answer. “That’s a very good question, Nami-ya.” Brow furrowing, he stood before her in deep thought for a few minutes, idly running his thumb over the heart in his hand. It continued to beat at a dizzying speed—Jinzo was terrified, in agony, or both.

Finally, with a dark glint in his golden eyes, the Dark Doctor stated, “I’ll look into it. As for you two; rest, eat, and be ready to set sail by tonight.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Ikkaku replied while Nami nodded mutely.

Without another word, Law stalked out of the infirmary, leaving the two women and the Mink alone.

Determined not to endure any more awkward silences, Bepo walked over to Nami, lifted her up like she weighed nothing, and carried her over to Ikkaku’s cot. The bear sat down and pulled both women onto his lap, hugging them close like they were a pair of dolls.

“You had us all worried,” he whimpered, rubbing his muzzle against Ikkaku’s tangled hair. After six hours and all the craziness that had ensued during that time, the dark strands were regaining their natural curl. “I thought we were going to lose you.”

Despite the stress and trauma she’d endured over the past few days, Nami couldn’t help but feel the need to reassure the sweet bear. “We’re ok, Bepo. You guys got to us just in time,” she promised, patting his soft fur comfortingly.

“We knew you’d never let us down,” Ikkaku agreed, smiling softly at the way the Mink nuzzled her.

“But what if we hadn’t—”

“If you’re worried, next time you’re coming with us on Ladies’ Night,” she offered.

“Yeah,” Nami chimed in. “No one would dare mess with us if we had our fierce Mink bodyguard with us!”

“I don’t think you’re getting a choice on the whole ‘bodyguard’ thing,” Bepo admitted. “Law was a wreck. Pretty sure he’s not going to let either of you off the ship for a while without either him or a whole entourage for protection. Sorry.”

As much as Nami wanted to be annoyed at this, she couldn’t blame the dark captain for such a precaution. Grimm had taught her that, if she wanted to get through the rest of the year in one piece, she was going to have to adapt to her situation better. Life with the Straw Hats had made her forget just how much danger a woman faced.

Ikkaku had said she was lucky to have kept her virginity for so long—that she had the chance to choose who to give her first time to—but she hadn’t fully realized just how lucky. Absalom, Jinzo, Harpin—she could have been raped by any one of them. And though she was fortunate enough to have powerful people looking after her, she needed to be better prepared to defend herself in the future. As it was, she was a liability, and she couldn’t always count on others to rescue her.

Resting her head against Bepo’s furry neck, she made a decision. “Hey, Ikkaku?”

“Yeah?”

“Think you could take a look at my Clima-Tact later? Maybe see if there’s a way to bulk up its attacks, or give me some tips on how to utilize it better? I…I don’t want you to feel like I’d be in the way of a fight again.” Usopp would probably freak that she’d let someone other than him mess around with his invention, but Nami was sure he’d understand that it was for the sake of survival.

“I didn’t exactly think you’d be in the way,” Ikkaku replied, though there was a hint of hesitation in her tone. “I just didn’t want you getting hurt. I mean, if it turned out Mandōreku had a gun, I couldn’t risk him shooting you.”

“I get it, but if I’m going to stand a chance in the New World, I need to up my game. I’m never going to be a great fighter like Luffy or Sanji-kun, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try to get stronger.”

The engineer smiled sympathetically. “Then sure, I’ll look at it. Honestly, I’ve been dying to study that thing for a while but didn’t want to overstep.”

“I appreciate it,” Nami said. She meant it, too; Ikkaku might have been blunt and a bit pushy at times, but it was good to hear that she really did respect Nami’s boundaries.

“If you want some combat training, I can teach you a few of my moves,” Bepo offered, turning to rub his fuzzy cheek against her forehead affectionately.

“That’d probably be a good idea. Law said it was time to start some combat training, but I’ve been avoiding it. Guess it’s time to bite the bullet.”

“You want to learn to catch a bullet with your teeth?!” the Mink asked, shocked. “Not even Law can do that!”

Neither Ikkaku nor Nami bothered to correct him. Not that they could have; both women were laughing too hard.

XXX

Several hours later, Nami, Law, Jean Bart, Shachi, Ikkaku, and Penguin were loading the last of the supplies onto the submarine. The two women weren’t really in any condition to do any heavy lifting, but Nami was determined to spend as much time outside as she could before they submerged, as she had no idea when she’d get the chance to enjoy fresh air again. Ikkaku had decided to keep her company while the men did most of the work, and Law had agreed to let them lounge on the docks as it allowed him to supervise the men and watch over the women at the same time.

Normally, Nami would be on edge from his scrutiny, but she barely noticed as she was more interested in the amount of attention Penguin was giving them. Or rather, Ikkaku. The first mate had come up with practically every excuse under the sun to come over to check on them, mostly under the guise of ensuring his crewmate didn’t do anything to pull her stiches.

“I swear, he thinks I’m an invalid,” Ikkaku scoffed as Penguin scuttled off to help Shachi load up the supplies for the greenhouse Clione had ordered. “I’m not going to tear my stiches getting a drink.”

“Give the guy a break—he was freaking out when he realized you were in danger last night,” Nami replied, sipping her tea as she reclined in her deck chair. Penguin had insisted on fetching them some from the galley to ward off the gloomy island’s chill. It was definitely appreciated; a thick fog had settled over the Fall island since mid-morning and, combined with the chilly ocean spray, even the normally warm navigator was getting goosebumps.

“I guess. He’s a good guy like that,” she acquiesced with a small, affectionate smile. “He’s always looking after the crew. Speaking of, how’re you holding up in the uniform? You’re not getting overheated again, are you?”

The navigator gave the beige jumpsuit she’d once again been saddled with a brief scowl. “I’m fine—just trying to think of ways to make this damn thing palatable without Law freaking out.”

“Maybe we could modify it or something—make you a custom version. So long as it’s got the Heart Pirate emblem on it, I’m sure Law wouldn’t mind if we made it a bit sexier,” she said with a suggestive wink. “Especially if he gets to parade you about like his very own mikan arm-candy.”

Before Nami could tell her off for such an absurd suggestion, the man in question approached as if sensing the girls were talking about him. “And how are the two princesses doing?” he asked, tone teasing as he leaned Kikoku against his shoulder. “Has Penguin started feeding you grapes and offering foot massages?”

“Sadly, not yet,” Ikkaku snickered. “Need something, Boss?”

“I’m going to go run an errand. I won’t be gone long, but until I get back, stay close to the ship.”

The two women shrugged. Law had been popping out to run various errands all day; at this point, none of the Heart Pirates gave it much thought anymore.

“Don’t worry,” Nami replied, waving away his concern as she sipped her tea. “If I never set foot on Grimm’s shores again, I’ll be a happy woman. The docks are as far as I plan to go.”

“Good to hear it. Anything you two want me to pick up while I’m out?”

“Being awful magnanimous there, Boss,” Ikkaku drawled, an eyebrow raising suspiciously. “You trying to butter us up? Bribe us?”

He gave an insincere, too-wide smile. “Maybe I just feel like spoiling my two most beautiful subordinates.”

“And now I know you’re up to something. Well, if you insist on buying our silence, you can get me a huge box of gourmet chocolates or something,” she quipped, smirking up at her captain challengingly.

“Make that two boxes,” Nami giggled. “One for each of us. And a case of the most expensive sake the island sells.”

Law rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Greedy wench. Should have known you wouldn’t settle for a coffee or something.”

“If you don’t like it, I take cash, too.”

“Speaking of, you still owe me—”

“Nope!” she cut him off. “You said I could pay you back in cash, or with a kiss. And guess what, oh Surgeon of Death? I distinctly recall kissing you last night.”

“Under the influence of a sex drug.”

“You never specified the circumstances of the kiss. As far as I’m concerned, we’re even.”

Law let out an annoyed tch, and it took Nami a ridiculous amount of willpower to keep from commenting on the fact that the infamous Supernova was basically pouting. “Fine. I should be back in a half-hour. If I’m not, avenge my death.”

“Will do, Boss,” Ikkaku replied as she reclined in her seat, unbothered by the concept of her captain’s grisly demise. Not that she had reason to be—word had quickly spread about what had happened to Jinzo, so even if any of his former subordinates wanted revenge, only the truly stupid would risk their boss’ fate.

A blue bubble encased him and Law vanished before their eyes. Not wasting any time, the engineer turned to her companion. “So, you kissed him, huh?”

Nami scowled half-heartedly at her. “Because of the uranos.”

“Sure, sure,” Ikkaku chuckled but didn’t press the topic any further. It was good that she was feeling comfortable enough to make the occasional joke about last night’s debacle, but Nami could tell she didn’t wish to dwell on it longer than needed. There was a moment of comfortable silence between them before Ikkaku sighed. “Damn, now that he’s mentioned it, I kinda do want that foot massage. I’m getting a little cold, too; I’m gonna see if I can talk Penguin into giving one inside. You in?”

“Nah, I’m good. I think I’ll stay here and enjoy the fresh air a little longer. Go treat yourself!” she laughed, shooing the engineer away.

Normally, Nami rarely said no to a free foot massage, but she had the sneaking suspicion that Penguin wouldn’t mind doting on just Ikkaku for a while. With all his hovering, concern, and fury towards her attacker, Nami was beginning to theorize that the first mate might just have a burgeoning crush on the beautiful engineer. And even if she was completely off-base, Ikkaku deserved a little extra pampering after the night she’d had.

As Ikkaku meandered back into the sub, Nami wandered over to the edge of the pier, giving Jean Bart and Shachi a reassuring wave when they made to get up from where they were resting atop a stack of crates. Making sure to stay in their line of sight and within shouting distance, she stood there for several peaceful moments and relished the feel of the ocean spray on her face. She hoped the journey to the next island wasn’t too long—Grimm was damp and chilly and grey and an overall miserable experience, but she certainly hadn’t been bored.

“You seem to be doing well.”

Nami whirled around to find herself face-to-chest with Drake. Instinctively, her hand went to her Clima-Tact—Law had practically strapped it to her leg himself, though she doubted she’d risk leaving the submarine without it again.

Drake looked down at her critically, blue eyes lingering briefly upon the Heart Pirate insignia on her breast pocket before snapping back up to her face, a faint blush rising to his cheeks as he realized exactly where he’d been staring. He coughed into his fist awkwardly, waiting a moment for his composure to return. “I heard you ran amuck of some uranos. I suppose it’s a good thing you had Trafalgar for a temporary captain. I loathe the man, but his medical skills are beyond compare,” he spat as if giving Law even the slightest bit of praise filled his mouth with a foul taste.

“Y-yeah, he really came through for me,” Nami said nervously, fingers twitching above her batons.

Drake noticed her disquiet and took a half-step back, putting a respectable amount of distance between them. “I’m not here to kidnap you, Miss Nami—especially not with your companions ready to attack if I so much as blink at you wrong.”

Her anxiety eased up at the reminder. Glancing at her shipmates over her shoulder, she noticed Shachi glaring daggers at the rival captain through his sunglasses as he polished his rifle. Next to him, Jean Bart cracked his knuckles meaningfully. Confidence returning with the knowledge that she had good people watching her back, she returned her attention to Drake, hand retreating from her weapon to rest elegantly on her hip. “Smart man, though if abduction’s not on the agenda, why are you here?”

“Partially to check up on you. I was concerned Trafalgar would want to take advantage of you in your drug-addled state.”

“Law would never!” she snapped, instantly offended on the Dark Doctor’s behalf. The man may have been a sadistic, flirty bastard, but she instinctively knew he had never considered using her like Jinzo had intended. After all, she’d basically offered herself up on a silver platter, and when he’d kissed her back, it had been for the sake of distracting her. Law was a lot of terrible things, but “rapist” was not among them.

Holding up his hands in surrender, Drake raised an eyebrow at her outburst. “You’ve certainly changed your tune. Just two days ago you told me you didn’t even like him and literally begged me to help you strip off his uniform. I’d hoped you’d be smart enough not to fall for his seduction techniques so easily.”

“I haven’t fallen for anything—I’ve just realized that, even if he is a creepy asshole, he’s at least got enough honor to keep me safe from other scumbags. He’s the lesser of the evils out there.” Biting her lip, she reluctantly brought up, “By the way, I heard that you’re the one who…took care of Jinzo.”

With a nonchalant shrug he replied, “Normally, doing anything that benefits Trafalgar turns my stomach, but I was willing to make an exception in this case. The lesser of the evils and whatnot. That, and Haiko offered me a rather impressive sum of belli in exchange. I certainly wasn’t going to turn down that kind of deal—especially when I found out what Jinzo had done.”

“You…said he owed you a lot of money for something. What was it?” she asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

Piercing blue eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms. “You’re not accusing me of selling him uranos, are you?”

“Jinzo did sink a small fortune into getting his hands on enough to drug a whole bar. Maybe it wasn’t the only thing you sold him, but you did say he owed you 600 million belli,” she countered, though her heart wasn’t in it. Drake may have been a dangerous Supernova and attempted kidnapper but considering how he’d seemed rather shy around unclothed women, she highly doubted that he’d supply a drug that would turn girls into sex-slaves. Still, it didn’t hurt to check.

His answering glower put doubt into that thought, though. “Miss Nami, I understand you’ve been through a traumatic ordeal, and thus I’ll humor your idiotic accusation—no,” he stated, voice barely more than a deep, threatening growl. “What he and Kimo owed me money for was a job they requested assistance on, plus I had raided a merchant ship full of uncut diamonds, platinum, and silk. And considering how you relieved Jinzo of his cash, even if I did bring in the uranos, do you really think I’d hand it over without getting paid?”

Ice water ran though her veins at his tone. Drake was deeply offended at her allegation. She couldn’t blame him—despite the near-abduction, he’d been remarkably courteous to her since they’d first met. Besides that, even if he wasn’t a Marine anymore, it was clear he was far more honorable than most pirates. But every man had his limits, and if she didn’t lighten the mood fast, she might end up sharing Jinzo’s fate. Backing up a half-step and holding out her hands as if to calm down an angry beast, Nami simpered, “Hey, I’m sorry! You’re right—it was stupid of me to think you had anything to do with this. I-I’ve been through a lot over the past couple days and wasn’t thinking straight!”

Drake took a deep breath, and the tension eased from his shoulders as his hands fell to his sides. Behind her, Nami could hear the safety of a gun clicking, and she suspected her bodyguards had something to do with his new calm. “I may be a pirate, Miss Nami, but I don’t care for my honor being questioned.”

“I’ll remember that.”

His stern expression softened at her obvious fear. A large hand rubbed the back of his neck with a hint of embarrassment. “I confess, though, I do now feel a bit guilty for even considering selling you to that madman. Uranos is nasty business—rumor has it that the Navy briefly considered using it as a form of torture for female pirates in Impel Down, but Sengoku shot it down.”

Bile burned the back of her throat at the mere thought. “Dare I ask who proposed that option?”

“I believe you robbed his mansion last month.”

A disgusted shudder wracked her body. Of course that perverted psychopath would suggest such a thing. Considering Harpin’s low view of women and shady dealings, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he suggested it so he could get his hands on some for his own depraved use.

“God, the Navy employs the sickest people,” she groused. “How can they even look at themselves in the mirror?”

“People will go to quite the extremes in the name of Justice,” Drake answered, tilting his head down so his face was cast in shadow. “You can’t always stop evil by playing by the rules.”

Nami bit her lip. She probably shouldn’t be discussing such things with a former Rear-Admiral. Even if he had no love for his former leaders, she doubted such a conversation would go anywhere pleasant. She was trying to keep the mood light, after all. “Right. So, where are you heading next? Off to the New World?”

“No, not yet. It’s still too chaotic on the other side. Perhaps in a few months, when the waves of idiots looking to make a name for themselves have all killed each other. If I hope to stand out, I can’t just be another voice screaming for attention.”

“Not the worst plan in the world, I guess.” In fact, it was pretty similar to Law’s. Perhaps all North Blue pirates were this pragmatic—it seemed they were the only ones willing to wait for the best moment to strike instead of recklessly rushing into certain death.

“So glad you approve,” he replied sarcastically, though there was an amused tilt to his lips. “I may also be staying on this side for the sake of enjoying Paradise while it’s unusually peaceful—it’s almost like a vacation.”

Just like that, the rest of the tension between them dissolved like sugar in hot tea, and Nami found herself able to relax. Drake was an intimidating man, especially when he was angry, but like Law, he didn’t seem the type to cause trouble unless he could gain from it. Especially not with the Heart Pirates so close by.

That in mind, Nami gave him a small smile, intent of staying in his good graces. “By the way, thank you for…what you did to Jinzo. I’m sure getting payback on my behalf wasn’t a factor in your decision, but it’s good to have the peace of mind knowing he won’t be coming after me again.” Death and torture were never things she’d be able to condone, but it seemed smarter to praise Drake rather than condemn him.

Broad shoulders lifted in a mild shrug, but the large captain seemed pleased enough at her gratitude. “Honestly, while it wasn’t at the top of my list of reasons, when I was informed that he’d drugged you, it did help sway my decision. I thought perhaps my act of chivalry might help you see sense and convince you to join me instead of Trafalgar.”

A wry smile curled her lips and she jutted out her hip as she replied sassily, “Torturing a guy isn’t a great way to earn a lady’s affections, though points for creativity.”

Drake blushed slightly at the mild teasing in her tone, pulling the brim of his hat a bit further down to hide it the damning tinge of pink. “Perhaps not my preferred way to win you over, but I work with what I have.”

Intent on keeping the mood light, she teased, “Well, Captain Drake, how would you prefer to ‘win me over’, as you put it? A shopping trip? Candlelit dinner? A long stroll on the beach under the stars?”

“I’d rather appeal to your sense of reason—you’re an intelligent woman from what I’ve seen, and surely by this point Trafalgar would have shown you his true colors. While he might not be the absolute worst piece of scum sailing the ocean, you’re better off without him. That insane bastard will bring you nothing but trouble.”

Part of her appreciated the fact that Drake seemed even the slightest bit concerned for her safety—it was always good to have allies, after all. “Law’s a little unhinged, I’ll admit, but still far from the worst captain I’ve ever served under. He’s loyal and protective of his crew, and I guess that includes me now. That, and I have this sneaking suspicion that you only want me because I’m his.” She blinked before smacking her forehead with her palm, cheeks burning bright red. “That didn’t come out right.”

Drake let out a faint chuckle as he closed the distance between them with a few casual steps. “Whether or not you meant it that way, you’re not wrong. Considering all the times he’s gone out of his way just to screw me over, I wouldn’t mind the chance for some payback.” He leaned in, his voice a seductive growl in her ear as he continued, “And what better way to do it than to steal away the woman he clearly plans to fuck?”

“Wha—”

“Back it up there, Drake,” Shachi snapped as he audibly clicked the safety of his gun off again, raising the rifle meaningfully. “We cut you some slack when you badmouthed the boss, but trying to seduce our Cat Thief is a big no-no.”

Nami shivered as a puff of Drake’s hot breath danced against her neck when he scoffed. “Oh? Don’t you have faith in her loyalty to your captain? Or do you think she’d be so easily seduced?”

“Like you said, Miss Nami’s a smart woman,” Jean Bart replied, once more cracking his knuckles, ready to fight. “Smart enough not to fall for such an obvious ploy from a guy who tried to kidnap her just two days ago.”

“Then you boys have no reason to worry.” His attention returned to the woman in question when he felt her small hand lightly press against his torso. “So, what will it be, Miss Nami? Surely such a gorgeous, intelligent woman knows she deserves a better captain than an unhinged scoundrel like Trafalgar. Someone like me. Perhaps I could convince you over a bottle of wine in my cabin.”

Memories of the fantasy she’d shared with Ikkaku about how she’d seduce Drake popped into her head. She certainly hadn’t imagined he’d try to beat her to the punch like this. But while his attempt was admirable, the execution was unrefined. He had the proximity and the low, coaxing tone down, but he wasn’t even trying to touch her. He was smart to compliment her looks and intelligence, but he wasn’t quite making her feel wanted. Or maybe she’d just gotten used to Law’s much more patient, methodical approach. In fact, she couldn’t help but wonder if Drake was trying to imitate him but wasn’t quite comfortable enough to commit.

And too bad for him, when a Cat Thief like her sensed weakness, she took advantage.

“Hmm, I admit it’s a tempting offer,” Nami cooed, playfully running her fingers along the fur trim of his bolero. Large brown eyes gazed up at him through long lashes as she continued, “Having the famous X Drake so interested in little old me is certainly doing wonders for my ego. And what woman wouldn’t want to serve under such a big, strong, handsome captain?” For extra measure, she blew a light stream of air against the bare skin of his sternum as she drew a little heart on his prominent abdominal muscles.

Drake’s face turned the same shade as his hair, prompting Nami to laugh and drop the act, stepping away from him. “Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure that if I ran off with one of his rivals, Law wouldn’t take too kindly to it. But I’ll keep it in mind.”

Growling faintly in annoyance at how easily she’d gotten under his skin, Drake sought to compose himself by dusting off imaginary dirt from his sleeves. “Hmph. Well, in case you do come to your senses, just know the offer expires when I leave for the New World.”

“Fair. Now, unless you were looking to say goodbye to Law…” she trailed off, suggestively wagging her eyebrows.

Any composure Drake might have regained fell away instantly. “It was bad enough dealing with that smarmy bastard over the phone,” he snapped, ears burning brightly. Given what she knew of their interactions, Nami could guess that call had been utterly dripping with Law’s smug, suggestive flirtations. No wonder Drake had waited until he was gone to approach her. “All I have to say to him is ‘burn in Hell’!”

“Well, unless you plan on telling him that yourself, you should get going—he’s due back any minute,” she warned with a teasing smile. She’d never admit it out loud, but Law had been right—the best way to deal with Drake was to lean into the sexual tension to knock him off balance.

“Fine,” he growled, shoving his hands into his pockets and marching away with his head held deceptively high. “One last bit of advice, Miss Nami—I know it’s inevitable, but at least make him work for it before you sleep with him.”

Her jaw dropped in shock and outrage. “You—I’m not going to sleep with that jerk!”

“That’s the spirit,” he replied dryly over his shoulder, his large silhouette fading into the fog.

Once the former Marine was out of sight, Shachi was at her side, leaning his elbow on her shoulder. “You ok, Nami?”

The red haired thief was grateful for the cool air, as it helped her blush fade more quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for having my back.”

“No problem. Glad we didn’t have to fight him, though. I hate to say it, but Drake’s got a higher bounty than Law for a good reason—guy turns into a total monster during a fight.”

“Literally or figuratively?”

“Yes.”

“Of course,” she sighed. Not that she was surprised—she’d seen his hand become a green scaled claw back in the alley, and she’d heard rumors that he could transform into carnivorous dinosaur of some kind. “How long until we plan on leaving?”

“Probably no more than an hour,” Jean Bart replied, hoisting up one of the larger supply crates. “Why? Need to get anything before we go?”

A cat-like smirk curled her lips as she fanned herself with a wad of cash. “Nah. I’d just rather we be on our way before Drake realizes he’s missing a few thousand belli.”

Shachi immediately doubled over laughing. “Holy fuck! When did you pull that off?!”

“When you two were distracting him with your chivalrous display,” she said evenly, tucking the money into her breast pocket. Even if Drake did realize his wallet was suddenly empty, there was no chance he’d dare let his hand go anywhere near her cleavage.

“Seems you three are having fun,” Law said, appearing like a specter from the thick fog, Room dissipating around him. “What did I miss?”

“Just Miss Nami picking Drake’s pocket,” Jean Bart said with a chuckle, picking up the crate of sake that had appeared with his captain and hauling it towards the submarine.

“Dumbass tried to seduce her and got robbed for his troubles,” Shachi explained gleefully, though it was replaced with a low grunt as two massive boxes of assorted gourmet chocolate were dropped into his arms. He let out another oof as Kikoku unceremoniously landed on top of them.

“Drake-ya tried to seduce you?” the captain asked Nami, lips curling into a smirk. “Without my permission? I’m not sure if I should be pissed at him or proud.”

“Does he need your permission to seduce me?” Nami scoffed lightly. “Maybe I should have gone with him; having an actual gentleman for a captain would make a nice change.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t try to appeal to your desire for a more flattering uniform.”

“Wait, they have better uniforms? Drake, come back!” she called mockingly, making a show of trying to run off in the older captain’s direction.

Chuckling, Law caught her arm and pulled her back against him. “Shachi, bring those boxes to the girls’ room and check the cargo hold to make sure we have all the provisions we need.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Shachi replied, already halfway to the sub. He knew Law was just giving him busywork to get some alone time with the beautiful thief, but he wasn’t going to argue—if Law wanted to, he could easily just Shambles him to the other side of the island to get rid of him.

The Dark Doctor didn’t get to enjoy that alone time for long, though, as his second mate was quickly replaced by a second redhead, though this one was far more beautiful and curvaceous.

“Hello Law,” Haiko purred, her ruby lips curled upwards in a satisfied smile. In stark contrast to the sexy silver dress she’d preformed in, today she wore a smart black blazer with a tight pencil skirt, though her generous cleavage was tactically on display. “Your work last night was exemplary. I’m going to have to think of new VIP perks to give you. Maybe have Hiroshi write another song.”

Nami tensed at the appearance of the seductive club owner. She still had no idea what was up with her—if Haiko could be fully trusted. Law had said he’d look into it, but had he? Or had he just said that to appease his suspicious shipmate?

“Thank you, Haiko-ya,” Law replied casually, though it didn’t escape Nami’s notice that he placed himself deliberately between the two women. “How are Jinzo’s victims?”

The assured smile fell slightly. “I sent the ones you cured home to their families. The dead will hopefully be identified and given proper burials.”

“And the nymphos?”

“A few are going to try and return to their normal lives. The others…I’ve offered them employment at one of my brothels—if they’re going to crave sex for the rest of their lives, they might as well get paid for it. And at least with me they’ll be safe.”

“Very generous of you.”

Though she waved off the comment, Nami could see the subtle stiffness in her posture—as if she were an actress not entirely comfortable with the character she had to portray. “It’s the least I can do. If I’d taken care of Jinzo earlier, none of this would have happened.”

“I can’t argue with that. Though he must have done a great job covering his tracks to keep both you and Kimo-ya from realizing he intended to muscle in on your territory. What will happen to the black market trade now?”

Her easy confidence returned—when it came to talking business, Haiko was clearly in her element. “Well, since I’ll have my hands full keeping that from imploding, I’m entrusting Oscar with running the red light district. Hiroshi can manage Ruby 8 until things settle down. I admit, since so many of your peers have run off to the New World, the black market’s taken a bit of a dip in profits.”

“And with fewer pirates around, the island’s entertainment and legitimate businesses must have been more accessible to citizens and other visitors.”

“All the more reason to clean this town up, I suppose.”

“Kimo-ya won’t be happy about that,” Law said casually, studying his nails.

She shrugged, though her red lips turned in a subtle frown. “My husband’s a crime lord—to him, rampant rape, drugs, and murder meant that his clientele were happy. But when such a thing is the norm, it’s only a matter of time before you fall victim to it yourself.”

“Of course. It’s easy to rule the underworld when everyone else is a good, law-abiding citizen.”

Seductive smirk returning to her face, Haiko playfully stroked Law’s goatee. “Oh, don’t worry, Dr. Heart Stealer; you’ll still have a place to sell of your ill-gotten goods, and after last night, you can expect VIP treatment at any of Grimm’s fine establishments.”

The Surgeon of Death flashed a devilish smirk. “Good to hear. And without the risk of drugging, rape, and kidnapping, maybe next time we visit, Nami-ya will be able to actually enjoy herself.”

Pulling her hand away from Law’s face, Haiko turned to Nami, green eyes apologetic. “Yes, I heard you were one of the girls Jinzo’s goons drugged. It’s good to see you’re doing well. No one hurt you, did they?”

“I’m fine,” Nami replied, shifting uncomfortably. Though her concern over the thief’s welfare felt sincere, she still wasn’t sure if the island’s new Queenpin had a hand in the island’s drastic power shift, or if she was just taking advantage of the opportunity she’d been presented with her husband and Jinzo’s removal. Her goals at least appeared admirable.

“If you’re ever back in Grimm, you’re welcome at Ruby 8 anytime. In fact, next visit your meals and drinks are on the house.”

Law stepped between them again, and for a brief moment, Nami felt him run a reassuring hand over her back. “Perhaps by that point, Kimo-ya will have recovered—we can make it a double date.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Haiko stated, a nearly imperceptible tightness in her jaw. “My medical staff says that with the damage he suffered, even if he does wake up, he’ll be confined to his bed for the rest of his life. He took a tremendous fall down the stairs and broke his neck, you see.”

“Was that before or after he was stabbed in the liver?”

Green eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

This time, Law blatantly pushed Nami behind him, looming dangerously over the older businesswoman as they stared each other down. “Well, since I seemed to be in the habit of doing you favors, I thought I’d add to my good karma and stop by your house to see if I could do anything to heal your beloved husband. He certainly has a broken neck, and the bruises and cracked skull line up with your story, but that stab wound sticks out like a sore thumb.”

Haiko’s stone-cold expression would put a professional poker player’s to shame. “Well, the fall did break a few steps—perhaps he landed on a sharp piece of wood.”

Law’s own face was just as unreadable. “No, the size and shape clearly indicate that it was a knife. A small one that a lady could easily hide under her dress. I also noticed that your home doesn’t have any stairs.”

Her expression hardened, a fierce green fire flickering in her eyes. “Are you accusing me of harming my husband, Captain Trafalgar?”

“Haiko-ya, you’re a woman I genuinely admire—you’re cunning and determined, yet you still have standards higher than most of the criminal underworld. You’ve come a long way from that underground gin joint you started in the North Blue. You’ve spent years cleaning up the brothels and bars on Grimm; I’d certainly be upset to find my husband was conspiring to undo all of my hard work simply because he couldn’t adapt to the changing times.”

Nami held her breath as she and Law awaited her answer. This was the moment of truth.

“That’s quite the theory you have,” Haiko replied coolly, crossing her arms and raising an auburn eyebrow. The anger in her gaze dimmed down into a tranquil simmer. “Do you have any proof?”

“Nothing physical, nor do I really care—if you stabbed Kimo, I have no doubt it was well-deserved. Perhaps it was even an accident, or in self-defense.”

“Or perhaps you’re just making baseless accusations.”

“Haiko-ya, it doesn’t matter to me what really happened. If anything, I imagine you’ll be a better business partner than either of them. I simply don’t appreciate being used and lied to.”

When she gave no reply, Law gave Nami a meaningful look, gold eyes flicking down to her Clima-Tact before holding her gaze intently. “Nami-ya, why don’t you disappear for a bit? I think this is a conversation Haiko-ya and I should have without an audience.”

Catching on, she nodded, ducking inside the Polar Tang just out of sight. While Law distracted the club owner by leading her towards the edge of the pier, Nami quickly cast her Mirage Tempo, rendering herself invisible so she could sneak back over, footsteps silent as a cat’s paws. For extra measure, she crouched behind a nearby crate, peaking her head over the top so she could watch the duo’s interactions.

Law casually slung his arm over Haiko’s narrow shoulders, dropping his voice so only Nami could eavesdrop. “Look, I know power struggles are common in the underworld, and innocents getting caught in the middle happens. However, this little spat hurt two of my subordinates. I’m sure you understand that, if something like this were to happen again, I’d take it upon myself to wipe out both sides of the conflict in revenge, correct?”

The redhead stiffened. “Of course, Law.”

“Good. Because I respect your reasons—Kimo and Jinzo betrayed you. Tried to undo all your hard work because their own profits were down. Potentially even planned to slip you a little uranos out of spite. But I won’t stand for someone else’s grudge putting my crew in danger. Nor do I tolerate being used—if you want me to kill someone for you in the future, I expect you to be straight with me instead of treating me like a pawn.”

For a moment, Haiko stood in silence, staring out at the churning waves as they slapped against the pier. Finally, she spoke, voice tight and minutely vulnerable. “A few nights ago…Kimo came to Ruby 8 with a few of his thugs after closing. We argued about him helping Jinzo open a brothel under my nose—he said if I didn’t give the red light district back, he’d burn my club to the ground and put me to work as one of the whores.”

“Is that when you stabbed him?” Law asked, tone even and calm.

“Of course. Oscar and the band overheard the commotion and took care of the thugs while I ran, but Kimo followed me to the top of the stairs…”

“Well, that lines up with what Hiroshi told me. I appreciate your honesty.”

“You questioned Hiroshi?” she asked, angered at the musician’s betrayal.

“You forget—he owes me. I guess he also figured I’d be more lenient with you if I knew how you’d been backed into a corner.” Law paused, letting the tension between them simmer before he admitted, “He was right. Kimo deserved what you gave him, and if I hear he’s tragically succumbed to his wounds, well, I won’t shed any tears.”

Haiko sighed, shoulders sagging in relief. “I wanted to trust you, but you had a profitable partnership with Kimo. I couldn’t be sure whose side you’d be on—I just knew it wouldn’t be Jinzo’s.”

“A common enemy is a good hook for an alliance—I just hope you plan to be more honest with me if you intend on maintaining our partnership.”

“Of course.”

A shadow fell across his eyes as he turned the woman so she fully faced him. “Did you know about the uranos shipment?”

“No. Nor was I aware that Venus would be used to distribute it,” Haiko explained, looking him straight in the eye. “The owner was new but on the level; he had my full permission to host a Ladies Night to attract customers. When I went to confront him this morning, I found his body—he’s been dead for at least a few days.”

Nodding at her answer, Law’s somber expression relaxed. “Good. Because not telling me about Kimo and Jinzo’s betrayal is forgivable. Not warning me about the uranos…”

“I am truly sorry your girlfriend and engineer were subjected to that.”

Nami had to physically slap a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming “I’m not his girlfriend!” She doubted Haiko would appreciate it if she found out she was being spied on, and Law would be pissed that she’d ruined his plan.

Perhaps he could feel her rage, because Nami caught Law’s amber eyes glance in her general direction before returning to Haiko. “Pretty words aren’t the kind of apology I’m interested in. I expect compensation.”

Haiko’s confident, naturally seductive grim returned as she leaned in, running a finger along the Heart Pirate insignia on his sweatshirt. “Oh? And what exactly did you have in mind?”

“I’m sure you’ve already thought of something—I doubt you would have come all this way just to say goodbye.”

“That I have; in fact, it’s exactly why I came down here. Two weeks ago, a man named Dira tried to sell Kimo and Jinzo some items. Most of it was junk, but there were a few things that stood out. One of them was a lovely white vase.”

“Are you seriously offering me a vase as reparations for Nami-ya and Ikkaku nearly becoming sex slaves?” he sneered, eyes narrowing in offense. Nami bristled in solidarity. She didn’t care how drop-dead gorgeous Haiko was; unless said vase was made of platinum and filled to the brim with belli and gems, she’d kick the older woman’s ass for being so cheap!

“Oh, no—the vase isn’t even here!” Haiko replied, smile never wavering despite the anger radiating from the Dark Doctor. “Once he realized what it was made from, Kimo turned it down and told the man to take his wares elsewhere.”

“And what, pray tell, was it made of?” Law asked sarcastically, patience wearing thin.

Her manicured hands reached up to smooth out the wrinkles in his sweatshirt. “At first, they thought it was marble or alabaster, but upon closer inspection, Jinzo realized that the white was just paint. It took a little arm-twisting, but Dira admitted that the vase originated from a certain tragic island in the North Blue.”

That immediately caught the surgeon’s attention, and the full focus of those golden eyes was fixated on the club owner. The hostility vanished, replaced by cool intent. “Where did he go?”

“Atifakuto. None of us wanted something coated in Amber Lead, of course, but I remembered you once mentioning that you had an interest in such items. In fact, I even have an eternal pose to the island—I took my last vacation there.” Reaching into her generous cleavage, she pulled out the hourglass-shaped device. As she handed it to the pirate captain, she fluttered her long lashes sweetly. “So, am I forgiven?”

“…for the most part. You’d better not be playing me, Haiko-ya,” Law replied, studying the magnetic compass intently, looking for anything that might give away whether or not it was fake.

“I think I’ve learned my lesson about leading on The Surgeon of Death. You did me a favor, so I’m returning in kind.” Standing up on her tip-toes, she brushed a kiss to his jaw. “I do hope you visit again soon. And treat that Cat Thief of yours right—maybe it’s the red hair, but she reminds me of myself at that age.”

“Unscrupulous and greedy?” he asked, taking her hand and pressing his own farewell kiss to her knuckles.

“And a magnet for dangerous men,” she purred as she flounced away. “Safe travels, Captain Trafalgar. Always a pleasure doing business with you.”

When the new Queenpin of Grimm was out of sight, Nami dropped her illusion, jogging over to Law. “Well, that was…quite the conversation.” Part of her was relieved—Haiko had done some shady things, but she couldn’t fault her reasons. Another part was flattered. She was a dangerous, stunning, formidable woman—someone Nami could certainly admire and wouldn’t mind becoming someday. Though, she hoped she’d manage to avoid marrying someone who’d betray her.

And one tiny, sneaky part of her burned with irrational jealousy over the fact that Haiko had kissed him. It shouldn’t matter—Law was obnoxious and arrogant and certainly not someone she had any intention of kissing when not under duress. But for some reason, she had been really tempted to use her Cyclone Tempo to knock her into the water.

“That it was. Seems a trip to Atifakuto is in order,” Law said lowly, the brim of his hat casting a shadow across his eyes as his tips twisted in a sullen frown.

Nami’s brow furrowed. She knew Law had some kind of interest in Amber Lead, but why would he want to hunt some down? “Is that our next destination?”

He rubbed his goatee in brooding thought as his eyes fixated on the delicate needle pointing towards the horizon. Nami could practically see the wheels in his head turning, an internal argument raging in his mind. His body was as stiff as a cadaver’s, the tendons in his neck straining as he held in whatever powerful emotions he was feeling.

Finally, he shoved the eternal pose into his pocket and answered, “Not yet. I promised you the next island we landed on would be far more relaxing, and I need time to plan, anyway. But don’t expect a long vacation; I can’t let the trail grow cold.”

She sighed in relief. After the horrors of Grimm, she was in desperate need of a breather. Especially if they ended up going after an artifact from Flevance; she’d only heard tragic stories about that place. How they’d once been prosperous and highly-renowned, until the whole country had come down with a horrible, incurable disease. A disease that, if Law was to be believed, hadn’t been as contagious as the World Government had claimed.

Before she could ask any questions, Law pressed his hand between her shoulders, gently but insistently leading her towards the Polar Tang. The darkness in his expression had faded significantly, and his sly smirk was back in place. It felt phony, though—like a mask. “By the way, I appreciate you staying close. Considering what she did to her husband, I half expected Haiko-ya to stab me and push me off the pier.”

“Yeah, I figured you only wanted me there so I could save your ass,” she snipped, though her heart wasn’t quite in it. Law had berated Haiko about being honest with him, yet it felt like he was putting up a front with her. Sure, it wasn’t quite the same—Haiko had been using him, while Law seemed to be just keeping his thoughts to himself—but the slight hypocrisy grated at her.

At the same time, she couldn’t entirely fault him for it. Their relationship and sense of trust in each other had certainly improved over the past twenty-four hours, but she couldn’t blame him for not enlightening her to his troubled thoughts. She only hoped he’d confide in Penguin or Bepo.

“The singular pitfall of wielding the awesome power of a Devil Fruit—water is your nemesis,” he replied sourly.

“Then why’d you lead her so close to the dock’s edge?”

“To make her feel less threatened. Her husband attacked in her own bar. Ruby 8 is as much home to her as the Tang is to us. People value that illusion of safety; when it’s compromised, especially by someone we should trust, it can turn someone into a skittish, feral animal.”

“Ah. Yeah, makes sense,” she replied as they stepped through the submarine door. He definitely had a point—if she’d been attacked on the Thousand Sunny, a place she’d always felt safe and secure in, she’d probably be on-edge for months. “It was still a risky move, though.”

“But a calculated one. Did you really think I’d accuse a woman as cunning and dangerous as her without a plan, or at least a basic understanding of how her mind works?” he asked, dark blue eyebrow raised in annoyance.

“No, but are you confident enough in that understanding to guarantee she’s not sending us to our deaths?”

“Another reason to take a slight detour and recover our strength before heading to Atifakuto,” he said nonchalantly, smirk becoming darker but more genuine. “I’m not particularly worried, though. Haiko and I think alike in many ways; she values long-term planning. She knows she only has one shot at killing me, so she wouldn’t risk it all on a scheme she threw together in a day. She’d wait until I least expected it, even if it took years, all the while carefully moving the pieces into place. And when she struck, she’d get the outcome she wanted no matter how the cards fell.”

“Do you…have someone you’re planning to kill?” Nami asked, a hint of nervousness bleeding into her voice. “Because you sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

“No one you’ve met, and no one you’d miss,” he said vaguely, his hand finally moving from her back so he could climb down the ladder to the next level. “You should worry more about getting stronger and preparing for the New World; Bepo tells me you’re finally ready to start combat training.”

“Let’s just say Grimm’s been a bit of an eye-opener,” she replied, carefully climbing down after him. Her heeled sandals made a reverberating clank as she stepped down onto the metal floor. “Luffy can’t risk me being a liability—if I can’t handle myself in Paradise, I’ll stand no chance on the other side of the Red Line.”

“Exactly why I’m willing to train you—I’d hate to have put in all that effort into saving Mugiwara just for his crew to bring him down.”

Nami glared at him, but he ignored her all the way to his quarters. Upon realizing she’d followed him, his eyebrow arched upwards again, though this time in amusement. “Were you looking for something, Nami-ya? A private tour of the captain’s bedroom, maybe?”

She blushed slightly at his suggestive tone but held her ground. “You gave me crap about keeping secrets from you, and yet you spew out the most irritating non-answers when I ask you a simple question. Your hypocrisy is infuriating.”

“I gave you crap about keeping secrets relevant to your well-being,” he countered easily, slipping inside his room. “Your tenure as a Heart Pirate will be long done by the time I enact my revenge, so it’s nothing you need to worry your pretty little head over, sweetheart.”

Before she could reply or even get a good look at the inside of his quarters, he shut the door in her face.

Staring at the steel barrier, Nami felt her stomach twist uncomfortably.

She trusted Law. She knew he was sincere in his desire to help her train for the New World. That he would protect her until she returned to Weatheria at the end of the year.

She also trusted her gut, and it was screaming that he had ulterior motives. That this generosity, along with his rescue of Luffy, had something to do with some long-term plan.

Trafalgar Law was the lesser evil now, but how long until that changed?

[marvel-lucy]

The Ultimate Weapon, chapter 11

Oh god, I tried to be fluffy...

Today was the day. I woke up early, my heart racing already. I hit the gym straight away, desperate to burn off some of the adrenaline that was flooding my system, to wear myself out. After two hours training, dawn was only just breaking, it was going to be a long day. After a shower, I stared at myself defiantly in the mirror. My hair was growing out and my teeth were fixed now. Some parts of my face looked normal, but my eyes were wide, showing my fear. I could do this, I could do this, I kept repeating to myself. This was the most terrifying challenge I had had in all the years. Let me fight an army of crazed aliens high on blood lust. Let me run through exploding buildings. Anything but this.

Today, I was going to spend a ‘nice day with the team’. I shuddered again at the sound of Steve saying those words, and begged for a swift death.

After Steve and Bruce had confronted me about becoming part of the team, they’d set about trying to help, but with little success. They asked me to eat in the communal areas with them, but sighed when I took my plate into one corner and ate alone while staring at Hydra data. They’d asked me to come and hang out but seeing me sitting bolt upright on a chair in the corner was apparently off-putting, so they’d decided to force me to engage. I was still unsure about the need for this – why couldn’t we just get on with the mission – but I didn’t understand then their ulterior motives, plus I was terrified of letting my guard down. What they didn’t realise was that during communal meals I sat staring at my screen unseeing, listening to their conversations and desperate to join in. When they hung out in the evenings, I sat gripping my chair trying not to run away when I found myself smiling at a joke, or worse, gazing at Bucky that little bit too long. I was still terrified that if I gave in to my humanity, I wouldn’t be able to survive the guilt and hurt.

So Steve had planned today – the first of many, he threatened. I had to give in to what they were doing, no matter what, and then actually talk about what I was feeling. I’d actually made a joke at that, saying this was worse than all Hydra’s worst tortures, which had made Tony chuckle, but then I felt a wave of guilt that I was making light of all the deaths I’d caused.

So I knew that at 7am, I was scheduled for a ‘team breakfast’ and that Steve was going to show me how to make pancakes for everyone. Oh god, why couldn’t Hydra attack now? Then at 8am, I was due for a counselling session – the first of many, again – with Sam. He wanted to talk to me about survivor’s guilt, and about hope. Was there time to break one of the windows and throw myself off Stark Tower? The rest of the day involved a proper haircut, more cooking, a film show, testing my agoraphobia with a walk in the roof garden (aha, definitely a chance to jump there?) and then a big team dinner, with everyone. Tony had even said that some of the lesser-seen Avengers and their friends were coming – Pepper, who I’d met once or twice, Clint, Thor. Oh god. Tony said he thought I should get incredibly drunk and do karaoke because ‘once you’ve sung to us, you can never feel shame again Moley’ (he still called me that, I was starting to get used to it. Something about Tony made you forgive him most things while also fantasising about strangling him slowly). Steve and Tony had then starting quarrelling about whether getting drunk was such a good idea, and when I heard Tony say ‘what, she and Buck can sing and make dreamy eyes at each other’, I turned and walked out very, very fast. I’d tried so hard to not look at Bucky these last few weeks, I’d gone out of my way to avoid him in fact, but it sounded as if I wasn’t doing well. I had no desire to make dreamy eyes at him, but I still felt drawn to him. He understood the turmoil I was feeling, and since the way he’d cared for me when my memories had returned, I’d had to resist the urge to be near him again. At the time I’d been so lost in my own pain that I had barely noticed him looking after me, but since then I’d started to remember the way he’d carefully lifted me out of the shower and the feeling of his skin against mine; the way he’d made me laugh. Damn it, I’d also started watching him when I thought no one could see, the easy friendship he had with Steve, the way he and Sam would bicker at each other until they both started laughing. His respect for Bruce and his eye rolling at Tony. He was part of the team, more than that, he was a friend to these people, despite what he’d been through and what he’d done. When I saw him once jump over the back of a sofa to wriggle between Steve and Nat to watch a film, putting his arm around both and giving them both sloppy kisses on their cheeks, earning a yell from Steve and a death threat from Nat, then settling down happily to watch the film with them, laughing and stealing popcorn, I had to leave the room hurriedly. They’d accepted him, and he’d accepted himself. Despite everything, he’d found a home and a family. I’d started to want that but I had no idea how I could get there. The voices in my head – the remains of all that Hydra ‘training’ - told me that I couldn’t get there, that Bucky was welcome because of his friendship with Steve, that nobody wanted me there and I believed them. I tried to focus more on the mission but the thought of going out and killing, destroying, that just made me feel even more separate from everyone else. They couldn’t want to know someone who was so intent on killing, so intent on doing everything Hydra had trained her to be.

So here we were though. It was nearly 7 now. I’d done two hours in the gym, showered, dressed. I steeled myself, took a deep breath, and went to make pancakes.

Turns out, I am not good at making pancakes. The team had stood around in the vast kitchen chatting while I focussed on the mission. Eggs, flour, milk, whisking, pan. I could do this. Tony snorted and said I looked deadly as I glowered at the mixture I was whisking, and Nat pointed out that in the right hands, anything was a weapon. I muttered ‘want me to show you what I can do with this whisk, Stark?’ and glared at him, earning a laugh from Steve as Tony backed out of the kitchen, hands up.

I followed Steve’s instructions to the letter, poured the mix into the pan, waited… then carefully slid the blackened lump straight into the bin. And the next one. After my third attempt, I carefully put the pan back down, picked up a fruit bowl nearby and set it on the dining table, then said ‘pancakes are off. Have fruit’, then sulkily flung myself down in a chair. The team burst out laughing and I felt my mouth quirk at the edges, then sighed, and smiled. Nat nudged me and said ‘told you anything could be a weapon – even your cooking’ and I slowly let my head fall so it was resting on the table and groaned. Steve made everyone pancakes after that, and I ate mine slowly, watching the easy way everyone chatted and laughed. I was included and it felt so good, but then I thought about what was coming next and my stomach clenched.

8am and I was pacing the corridor outside one of the Tower’s private offices. I’d braced myself to knock twice but couldn’t bring myself to do it, when Jarvis spoke: ‘Mr Wilson says you may just walk in, Miss Ruby’. Another deep breath and I opened the door.

We ended up talking for two hours. Sam in his role as counsellor was subtly different from Sam-As-Sam. Still kind, thoughtful, funny, but even more patient and gentler than normal. I’d sat in silence for a long time when I’d entered, then blurted out ‘I really don’t know what I’m doing here, there’s nothing I can say or you can say that can change the past’ and he’d nodded. ‘No, we can’t change the past. We might be able to find way to look at it differently so that you can find a future though’. I blinked heavily, I was the one with mind powers but maybe I’d been too obvious about how much I wanted a future, and how much I didn’t believe in one. ‘You’re weighed down by what’s happened, anyone would be, that’s OK. But you’re going to live a long time. Maybe we can find a way to see what’s happened in a different light, so that you can feel you have the right to be happy?’

He was good, I will say that. For two hours we talked, not in great depth as this was just the first session, but I think he found out a lot more about me than I realised I’d said. We talked about the loneliness of being without a family. Guilt about the loss of my family, guilt about what I’d done to other people. About the anger that drove me and the need to find a different motivation. We talked about my feelings of worthlessness, about feeling that nobody could accept a murderer, a torture victim. We touched on survivor’s guilt – how could I deserve to live? We mentioned the lost years, how I’d gone from a child to an adult without guidance or love. Inside I still felt like a 14-year-old and yet I was an adult, and one who’d been through so much. He mentioned PTSD and I said I’d look at it later. Then towards the end, he said ‘you know, we like you. You may not like yourself, and you may think we’re wrong, but we do. You’ve been through hell, no one’s denying it, but we want you here. You have as much right as anyone else in the world to be happy’. He looked at me as tears came rushing to my eyes and without speaking, I stood up and blundered out of the room. I’d need to apologise for that later, but right now I felt overwhelmed. I rushed to the elevator and asked for my floor, then ran for my room and flung myself into my safe corner where I just sat and cried, overcome with all the emotions that had been stirred up

Sam must have alerted Bucky because all of a sudden, I felt someone sit down beside me and wrap strong arms around me. I could no more have held back than I could have resisted Hydra’s torture all those years. I was just a kid, in some ways, and I needed help. I buried my head in Bucky’s chest and sobbed. He didn’t speak, just kept his arms around me, his cheek resting on my hair, until the tears dried up. I took a deep shaky breath and without moving my head said ‘I’m sorry Buck. That was pathetic, right?’ I was so afraid of being judged that it was easier to get in there first.

I felt him kiss the top of my head and squeeze me. ‘You’re a jerk, you know kid?’ he said. ‘You think you have to be stronger than anyone, that you can’t ever show how shit things are. You don’t realise that everyone in this damn Tower is desperate to help you, if you let them. I know, I know, you’re afraid to show weakness, I do understand. And let me guess, you’re afraid to care about people because you don’t want to end up hurting them? Oh and let’s not forget you think no one could ever like someone as terrible as you right?’ I looked up at him, he was giving me a half smile. ‘Nope, Wanda hasn’t taught me how to get in your mind. Just telling you how I’ve felt for years. Btu I had to start accepting that I was wrong. So do you. You don’t think I cried a lot when I got back? Jeez, Steve used to mop me up on a daily basis!’

He gave me another squeeze. ‘Kid, we will take down Hydra. We will. Maybe not as fast as you’d like, but we will. Then what? You’re only a kid and you’ve got a serum-enhanced life span. Once Hydra's gone, there’s got to be something more. So let’s work on that OK?’

I nodded and started to withdraw from him, embarrassed by how I’d clung on despite what he’d said, but he pulled me back in for a longer hug and we sat there until my breathing settled down. I could have fallen asleep I was so relaxed but I didn’t want to hold him up, although I didn’t want to let go either. Eventually he said ‘right, you need to wash your face and get ready for the next horror Steve has arranged for you’. He grinned and let me up. ‘What is it next?’

I thought for a second then my shoulder’s slumped in resignation. ‘A hair cut’ I sighed. ‘Well thank God, that do is an affront to the eyes kiddo’ he said as he stood up. ‘See you upstairs, I wouldn’t miss this for the world’ he said, kissing me on the forehead, and left.

I washed my face, knowing that I’d be unable to hide my red eyes, although there seemed to be nothing secret in this place, and then went back up to the living area. Sam’s words and Bucky’s words felt like little glimmers of hope, ones I didn’t dare look at too closely in case they faded away.

[righteoussoldier]

HURT

INFORMATION: Character: Alastor Moody Faceclaim: Joe Manganiello World: Harry Potter Verse: Marauders Era Trigger Warnings: Smut, Death, War Author’s Notes:  A song prompt/oneshot written for an old RP.

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I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel I focus on the pain, the only thing that’s real The needle tears a hole, the old familiar sting

Flashes of light rushed past Moody’s head as his agile body twisted to deflect the blast. The rush around him, the commotion of others entirely overwhelming. Throwing up defensive spells and flinging out counter curses were second nature to him now, and not just because of his work in the ministry. Ever since he and Albus had started the Order of the Pheonix, the world became a hell of a lot more gruesome.

Working the Order’s missions took him deeper into the rebellion than he’d ever thought he’d go. When the red tape is lifted and all bets were off, you saw the ugly side of evil front and center. Images of pain and turmoil, of injured women and children, of Death Eater’s wretched actions burned into your brain so profoundly and your own actions to protect the muggles and civilians so horrible, there was no way to ever cleanse your soul. No hope for retribution.  

When the firefight was done, the enemy having retreated from a lone Auror who dared face off against them- there was nothing left but the smoke and ashes. The landscape before him utterly barren, except for one shape. Laying haphazard across the ground, casting shadows against the light of the moon. With a rush, Alastor sunk to his knees beside the body, taking a moment to steel himself away before rolling it over….

Try to kill it all away, but I remember everything What have I become, my sweetest friend Everyone I know goes away, in the end

Lifeless eyes met his own, the white haze that arrived only when death had turned a body cold clouded what was once such a brilliant blue. A sob choked out of him, pain filling his chest and blinding him to his surroundings. To anything other than the young man who lay dead beside him. Moody had failed his mission, failed to protect the innocent muggle-born wizard who had been captured.

Blood streaked his pale face, the skin brutalized to a level that made him almost unrecognizable. He’d been tasked to find him, to save him….and instead, he’d failed. The Death Eater’s doing more to his body than what was required of standard Rebellion Questioning. More than spells had been used, his fingernails missing, cuts and bruises distorting his features, ugly words etched into him marring skin…The choking intensified until it became a scream, echoing through the night, deafening to his own ears.

Clinging the boy’s body to himself so tightly, Alastor could no longer feel a thing. So numb to his own pain, he didn’t hear the crack that rang out against the void around him. He didn’t see Kingsley take the boy from his arms and disappear, didn’t feel Minerva’s dainty figure as she wrapped him in a soft embrace. Not until the world shifted in a blur and his eyes opened to his safe house. The one separate from the Order’s Head Quarters, the one few knew about at all…

And you could have it all, my empire of dirt I will let you down, I will make you hurt I wear this crown of thorns upon my liar’s chair

When the fog thick in his mind lifted, and he realized who had brought him home, his heart threatened to break all over again. He couldn’t let her see him like this, he tried to walk away, to run and hide like the coward he had become. A man didn’t break in front of another, especially not in front of her. Pain tore through him, cut deep into his soul as he stumbled backward, only for Minerva to follow him, to hold him in place. Trapping him on the spot, stuck between how he felt and how he should act.

“There are no walls here, Alastor.” Her voice was grave, heavy with the weight of the war, of what they’d seen. Closing his eyes, he tried to will it all away, to change the course of events that brought them to this moment. “How did you find me?” He finally asked. His voice so unlike his own. Ruined, not broken. “I will always find you.” The words a promise, a vow…and he didn’t doubt them, but that scared him even more…

“I can’t do this anymore”

And by this, he meant so much more than the fight against the Dark Lord. He couldn’t do this, with her, he couldn’t love her. He could lose her. The way she looked at him, with warriors eyes along with the gravity of their situation weighing so hard on him, he feared he may fall and never get back up again. “I know” she replied, and the Auror knew that she understood all of it. Understood why he’d never committed himself to her in the way a couple should. Because Minerva felt the same, and that’s why they worked. “I will not love you either, Alastor.” Her reply to his unspoken thoughts solidified their link further…the truth was, they were both lying- it was too late.

Full of broken thoughts, I cannot repair Beneath the stains of time, the feelings disappear You are someone else, I am still right here

Without another word, like she knew what he needed like she always did, her hands tugged his face down to her level. Soft lips pressed against him in a hard surge, as if she was giving him permission to let go, to release the pain and take it out of her willing body. Alastor wasted no time, he clicked his fingers and her robes had vanished, leaving behind the supply body of his greatest love. His own, too… and suddenly, primal need took over. His primary instinct was to bury himself in what she was offering him…and god help him, he would.

When their bodies met once more, it was with intense force. His large hands slid down her sides and locked on her thighs, picking her up and cradling that petite form against his chest. Minerva’s legs wrapped around his torso, heels digging into his lower back as he surged forward, not stopping until her back hit the wall and hard. His cock was already hard, immediately awoken by her courage and it was the work of a moment for him to find home; deep inside her.

Her screams replaced the sound that still rang in his ears, a different kind of white noise as his hips thrust against her own. Fucking her with a kind of raw desire that no woman had ever been able to elicit from him before. Fingers locked tight in his hair as she begged him to move harder, faster, deeper…and he so willingly obliged. Her sex tight around him as he moved.

If I could start again, a million miles away I would keep myself, I would find a way

When they orgasmed, it was together. The kind that rocked the ship, that made them blind to the world afterward. Their skin slick from the exertion, breathing ragged as he gazed at her, still deep inside. The connection was what he needed the most, she was what grounded him to this earth, what kept him alive on the harshest of nights. He needed her in the way fire needed oxygen to stabilize and gain ground.

“Stay…” she whispered, almost pleading as she bit her lower lip. Her hair was a mess, cheeks flushed pink from their efforts and in that moment, he loved her even more. He was still hard inside her and with legs still wrapped around him, Alastor moved from the wall leaving behind a crack on its surface…not stopping until legs hit the bed and he collapsed on top of it, on top of her, before he began to move once more. Hips rocking between her own, taking the wild beauty with long and slow strokes. A deeper desire to pour his h e a r t into her, rather than the pain of his mind.

And as she moaned, the sound breathed life into his chest. Nails raking down his back, leaving deep red marks that bled into his soul. The stain of who they were something he hoped would never be removed. Lips locked onto her own, and his thick arms moved either side of her head, caging her against him, closing her off to the world, to anything other than the way their bodies moved as one…

If only he could say it, just once. If only he could tell her what she meant to him, how she made him feel…if only he could find a way.