#the fact that they won two events is impressive in its own right

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter LXXXI: Human After All

My week was spent with Tigershark after she came home Sunday night. I wanted to say that nothing went wrong during that week, other than the difficulties that came with communicating with 10 and 11-year-old children. As in, what I was supposed to be counted as.

Gardening with grandpa helped teach me about the importance of maintaining a healthy environment for flora. Watering, fertilizer, where seeds should be planted. Cooking with grandma helped teach me the importance of planning ahead, following recipes, and what ingredients go well with what.

I’d like to say I knew a little more about gardening than Tigershark, but she probably still had me beat on cooking.

“Boof!” Fetch liked to make those noises sometimes. They were different than a ‘woof’ or a ‘whoo’ or a ‘arf’ sound. Fetch didn’t make ‘arf’ sounds, as ‘arf’ sounds were reserved for smaller dogs, unless those smaller dogs had laryngitis or even bronchitis (I knew about those things, generally speaking).

As for Tigershark, we...or, I, felt the distance setting in. We didn’t walk as close. We didn’t hang out as much during lunch or recess. I had Celeste, and made friends with another, Ronnie. Tigershark had Hammond, and recently met a girl named Rhubarb. We had our groups, and that was fine. At least we still spent plenty of time together at home.

Really, as much as the distance might have pained me (had I felt pain for anything), it felt rather normal. That’s what life was starting to feel like in general: nothing magical, just school, home, school, home, ad nauseam.

That was the most painful of all: how ordinary it all had become. I had not long ago worried that I had run out of anything interesting to discover. That ambiguity has run its course and I was stuck having to face absolutes.

No, that wasn’t fair; there were always many ways things could have gone.

That things had gone more or less in my favor from the start wasn’t a coincidence, but there was still wiggle room where events could have gone any number of ways. That was the problem, wasn’t it? My favor was also working against me. It always has, as I knew the universe was just as tricky as I, and just as well, didn’t take kindly to being tricked.

I understand now that’s what brought the distance between Tigershark and I.

We could see into each other’s heads, as we were connected, but I was still able to keep secrets of my own. And she knew it, too. Even if she didn’t know the cause, she no doubt felt my constant feeling of dread. That I would have to go soon.

Did I want to leave? No. But it was necessary in order to even things out with the universe. That’s what it all came down to, right?

Still, nothing like that happened.

The week passed as normal.

The dread didn’t end, but neither did the sense of normalcy. Both feelings battled for dominance over the other, and so far, neither had won out.

So Friday night, after playing some video games, Tigershark climbed up to the top bunk of the bunk bed. I put my Nintendo Switch away under my pillow.

“Goodnight, Tigershark,” I said into the ether.

“Goodnight Astraea,” she said back. She sounded exhausted. Maybe it was just being sleepy, but it could have just as likely have been from the wrestling club she recently joined (Hammond and Rhubarb were in that club as well, and in fact, that’s where Tigershark met Rhubarb).

I closed my eyes. I knew I wouldn’t sleep, as I never did, but I still wanted to try getting into the act. If I could one day understand the process, maybe I could have willed my way to sleep. Alas.

Instead, I thought about the week. How I could have made more precious memories. Left a stronger impression. Over the course of a week, or at least five or six days, it was possible to make many precious memories. Or at least one or two.

When I opened my eyes, I was met with total darkness. I tried standing up, but hit my head against a wall. As it turns out, I must have been inside some kind of box. Metallic, perhaps?

I felt around the walls in front of me.

Sturdy, cold. Definitely metallic.

I tried banging my fists against it. Whatever this place was, I just got the feeling that I was never meant to be there. I pounded away, but it didn’t seem to make so much of a dent.

My small, human fists with their small, human fingers throbbed and its flesh felt tender. If I could see, maybe I would have found them bruised. That wasn’t right, was it? That I was able to feel such pain.

But I already knew what that meant. I was beaten up already. I couldn’t find an explanation for the pain, but I figured, this must be how the universe does me in.

“Please. Please,” I bit my lip and begged. The pain on my fists was sharp and it burned. As if the very notion of having them attached to me was painful.

“This isn’t right. This isn’t how I should go. I should at least say goodbye, I –”

A latch clicked and I fell onto a bright, golden floor as the wall opened. I looked back: indeed, it had been a box. More like a large, leathery suitcase, but a box nonetheless.

“On the contrary. This is exactly how you should go,” crooned a slick voice. Though I had never heard him speak before, I met him several times. I knew him even before I was born. I looked up, past the box I had been stuffed in and saw him clad in a purple, three-piece suit: Aion Eterna.

He stood with a slanted, cold smile. After getting a good look at him, he walked back up the stairs of the stage and sat atop its edge, his legs folded. Behind him was a thick, red curtain.

I looked around and saw the bronze, marble pillars along the sides of the hall which stretched out to whatt I thought was an impossible distance. Behind the pillars were the back walls with their yellow bricks. That next led me to stare down at the floor, and that was when I noticed that the floor was not gold at all, but contained the same yellow bricks.

“How am I here?” I asked.

“Luck, mainly,” he rested his arm on his knee and spread out his palm. “You wouldn’t believe how easily this could have gone wrong. First, I traveled to the town your friend’s grandparents live with my own plane that I got stashed away. Just a small, private helicopter. Nothing fancy. I pretty much had five days to twiddle my thumbs. But I didn’t do that, did I?”

“Of course not. It’s not like you,” I felt a little more ease, but that was in spite of his presence, not because of it. “So go on.”

“As you wish. Next, I scoped out where you were staying at. It didn’t take me long to find it, and I passed by the window to your bedroom a few nights just to be sure. Do you know how uncomfortable that made me? Do you know the optics of an old man like me creeping in on a child’s room?”

“Have you ever felt discomfort?” I sure was uncomfortable, but that was a different matter.

“I wonder. So, Friday night, I had to pick through the lock on the window. I was lucky once again that the child in the room didn’t stir awake. You were, of course, awake, but your eyes were closed, and were they to have opened, I’m sure you wouldn’t have come willingly.”

“No. Even if I knew it was going to happen sooner or later.”

“You did? Of course you did. Really, I don’t know if that makes this easier or harder for me.”

“So what comes next? You stole me away in the middle of the night? But how could you have done that without me noticing?”

“Sedative. I injected one into your neck. It knocked you right out. The next day, you were deep in sleep. That child tried to wake you to tell you that she was going back up to see Ray, but you didn’t stir awake. So she wrote you a letter, because she still wanted to say goodbye, but she didn’t want to wake you. After she left, I had a short period where her grandparents wouldn’t check in on you. I crept back in, stole you away, and placed you in the box as I flew back here.”

“That shouldn’t be possible. I would have felt that. Not to mention, it shouldn’t have affected me. I can’t go numb and I can’t fall asleep.”

He drew a labored breath. As if he was the one who should have been exhausted.

“What ever gave you that idea?” He shook his head. “You were asleep before you even came to life.”

Those words didn’t sit well with me, but I couldn’t figure out why. It made sense, but at the same time, it left me with questions, how could I be asleep before being alive?

Ignoring the potential questions I had on that subject, I asked a separate one:

“Why did you bring me here?”

His mouth opened, almost to release a gasp, but he closed it again before he said:

“You already know the answer to that. I brought you here because you brought me here. I had my suspicion already, but meeting Cronus and traveling to the Hall of Memories confirmed it.”

My eyes widened with worry.

It really had worked in my favor. Both Rhea and Remora were alive. Nemesis lived, too. But I…

“I changed my mind,” I told him, “You can find another scheme to pull, but I’m done.”

He shook his head with his head down and a heavy frown placed upon him. He looked mournful, and maybe it was the first genuine emotion I ever felt from him.

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“I want to go home! I want to see grandma and grandpa again!”

“What home? The home you had no longer exists.”

“What do you mean? Did you do something to grandma and grandpa?”

“Not at all,” he closed his eyes. He still didn’t show any smile, “that was never your home. That was the child’s. Your home was in a secret base of operations, out in the stars. That base no longer exists. I’m sure you know why.”

Remora.

I didn’t have strong feelings about her, but I knew others cared about her. She should have thrived. For all the destruction she may have caused, she still deserved a life.

“I wouldn’t want to go back there, anyway! That place had nothing for me! I want to stay on Earth! I want to have friends and go to school! Life here is interesting!”

“Like it or not, you served a purpose there. Here, you are only a hindrance. I’m sure you’re aware of that, otherwise you wouldn’t have brought me here.

“Well…” I stuck out my tongue. “I don’t want you anymore! I never liked you, anyway! I’m leaving!”

He pressed his palm into his face.

“You’re welcome to try,” he mumbled.

“You’re not going to attack me?”

“Not yet.”

I eyed him, but he didn’t move. If push came to shove, I could always warp out of there. Going between past and present was as simple as walking forward or backward.

So I turned from him and walked forward. I managed to walk past the first set of pillars, but as I tried walking further, I hit a wall and fell back.

“Oww...my nose,” I rubbed it.

I looked ahead of me and still saw the rows of pillars and the hallway which should have led outside, but as I stood up and felt around, I found myself unable to walk any further.

“I have a bounded field set up,” he said from afar, “others may enter, but you’re stuck in here with me. Only I could bring it down.”

I stomped back toward him.

“So do it!”

He said nothing. Didn’t even shake his head.

“I can still warp out of here! You can’t stop me!” I yelled into his face.

But as I tried to close my eyes and focus, I found I couldn’t move. It was like my mind was blocked from thinking of any other place to go.

“It’s not like you’re powerless, but the barrier I erected has weakened you some,” he explained.

No. Maybe I wasn’t powerless. But I couldn’t imagine what power would help. I knew it would happen, I just never knew how, and I had been anticipating it for a while. I even wished for it.

“So why haven’t you killed me already?” I sat down next to the box I was smuggled in, “That is why you’re here, isn’t it? So go ahead and do it.”

He looked to his right, away from me, and bore an absentminded expression.

“I think I’m just hesitating. You have no idea how hard this is on me. I don’t enjoy killing, you know. I always have someone else do it for me. Even if it’s an easy task for me, it doesn’t bring me the same thrill that it does for others. It just feels wasteful. People are more useful alive than dead, and although you aren’t what I would consider a person, the act itself is the same.”

“If you’re this broken up about it, then why go through with it?” I scowled at him.

“Because unlike you, I don’t back out of a deal. I see it through to the end and just hope that there’s a silver lining. Usually, I come out on top, but I’m used to failure, as well. In big ways, too. But even then, I’ve had to accept the consequences and cut my losses.”

I pursed my lip.

So this is regret, I thought.

There was much more to regret, and would probably come to regret if I lived long enough to do so.

“Do you know what will happen when I do this? Ray and his friends will come to hate me. If I was never brought here to do this, I could have kept my mouth shut about my past affiliations. Maybe I could have made friends with some of them, but that time has long passed. I’ve made sure to act out the part of a villain so that it will at least soften the blow, but it doesn’t make this any easier; do you know how much I hate being in the spotlight?”

“I don’t care. You are a villain. That’s why I brought you here.”

He raised his head and his brows raised along with it.

“Do you really see me as a villain?” He asked.

“Yes. You’re my villain.”

“I read about the conversation you had with Marco. Still, I can’t help but be hurt. It may be true that I have no conscience, and no doubt, I’ve committed many heartless acts for my own gain, but why would you, who up until recently, had no concept of morality, see me as a villain?”

“You already know why.”

He nodded slowly.

“I suppose I do. I treated you like cattle and harvested you. Prevented you from having a life.”

He nodded again, this time faster, as if to the tune of a jazz song.

“I won’t apologize for that,” he shrugged his shoulders. “That was your purpose. That’s how you should have stayed.”

I don’t know what I expected. That he would be sorry? No. I knew better than that. Still, it ate at me.

We may have both been in this predicament, but he was going to ensure it was seen through and afterward, he would see it as another simple, heartless act. Meanwhile, I betrayed everyone who ever knew me. After all, it was my plan, not his. He just worked out the details.

Aion and I were connected in ways I could have never been connected to with Tigershark. In a Frankenstein sense, he and I were like father and daughter. Even if I came from the stars, that connection wouldn’t be severed. I knew I shouldn’t fear the end of Astraea; when it was time, I would return to the stars where I belonged.

Fear wasn’t in my nature. It wasn’t the emotion I was born as. If I was ever born at all.

“What emotion am I?” I asked. It occurred to me that I never did have a name for it. Only analogies, which didn’t do me any good in my predicament.

“I don’t know. Maybe that’s the point.”

He smiled now, and fished into the pocket of his suit until he pulled out a cigarette and lighter.

“Do you smoke?” He offered.

“I’m a kid.”

He scoffed.

“Suit yourself. But for the record, that form you’re wearing is just a matter of convenience for you. You’re much older than that, maybe almost as Ananke and I.”

“Shouldn’t I be older?”

“Aha, there you go.”

He flicked his lighter and held the cigarette between his teeth. They were awfully white, but also looked rotten in a way I would call a house void of bacteria. As he lit the cigarette, he kept his head turned away from me and blew out a cloud of smoke.

“Ah. You know, whenever I smoke, it’s like I’m putting a gun to my mouth. When I light it up, it’s like I’m pulling the trigger. But when I take a puff, I find that I’ve been shooting blanks this whole time. Do you know what I mean?”

“No.”

“These chemicals don’t seem to have an effect on me. The nicotine doesn’t have a hold over me, nor do any of the other substances they load into these things. It’s like the tar that should have covered my lungs fades away into dust every time. There’s no stimulating effect, either; I feel neither low nor high.”

“Don’t you only do things that are useful for you?”

“That’s a misconception: I’d rather do whatever I can make use of, but I don’t find killing you to be much use for me. As I said, I see deals through to the end. Some may see me as a handsome devil, but I really am Dr. Faust. Learn to accept the cards that have been dealt.”

“So why do you smoke, then?”

“Call it an oral fixation.”

“I don’t understand.”

He took another puff. I expected him to say more. To fill the silence. It fit his image, somehow, to keep talking just to hear himself talk. But he didn’t do any of those things. He just continued to take puff after puff, blowing smoke along the way.

Maybe it’s me that wants the silence to be filled, I thought.

My thoughts were answered with the voice of another. But it didn’t come from Aion.

ASTRAEA! It was a high-pitched call. I knew that call anywhere: Tigershark. Astraea, where did you go? Grandma and Grandpa said you weren’t at home, and they don’t know where you went! I’m back at the diner, so I can’t come back home, but please tell me you’re there!

I tried to block out any thoughts of my own. Whatever answer I gave would have brought harm to her.

Please answer! If you can hear this, please...just a hint. Anything. Where are you?

I couldn’t see her, but the voice that echoed in my head sounded close to tears. Even still, I knew better than to answer.

...It’s a golden? Yellow? Place. There’s pillars. I don’t know where at, exactly, I heard myself reply to her, as if against all warnings, my mind wouldn’t allow me to go without answering her.

Do I even have a mind? I wondered.

Of course you do! Um...golden place...I don’t know, but I’ll tell Ray what you said! Came Tigershark’s answer.

I was ready to curse myself out. I didn’t mean to ask her whether or not I had a mind.

Aion stood up and held the drained cigarette butt between his fingers. He walked over to the far wall of the stage, near the curtains, and walked behind them. It only took a few seconds before he emerged. He walked out with his cane.

“There’s an ashtray in the back. It’s bad manners to litter, you know,” he pointed his thumb behind him.

I nodded.

I needed no explanation, but there was a sort of mystery about what could have resided behind that curtain. Saying that could have been his way of humoring me.

More time passed. Whether a few minutes or an hour, it wasn’t clear. Only that there was silence between us in that time.

At last, his face contorted into a resolute expression. He unsheathed the blade that resided under his cane, and tossed the sheath aside.

“I’ve stalled long enough,” he stated with a flat tone. No sense of humor to him, nor a grave seriousness. It reminded me a little more of Rhea’s voice than Ray’s. How I wish he was either of them rather than who he was.

He leaped down from the stage and closed the distance between us. I backed away. I should have stayed still and accepted it, but my legs betrayed me, as if they still hoped there was some way of backing out.

Still, I was no fool: it would have only taken one swift strike for it all to end.

Before he could strike, I felt a sharp, black line, fly past me and in his direction. He held one hand over his face, caught the object between his index and middle finger, and I saw blood trickle down his hand from the space that held the object in place. His blood was red, but darkened, slick, and murky, to the point that it reminded me more of motor oil.

Between his fingers was a small, thin throwing knife.

Aion spread his lips into a toothy grin.

“Looks like I stalled too long,” he muttered, before looking past me and flicking the knife onto the floor.

“ASTRAEA!”

I turned my head and saw Tigershark running from afar, as well as Demetria, Remora, Ray, and Nemesis.

What are you all doing here? I wanted to shout, but I already knew the answer.

“So, Demetria, I presume?” He called out. “I heard about your exploits. You’ve pulled some amazing feats. However, seeing you now, I’m a little disappointed.”

“Ugh! I wish I paid better attention! I should have known you were trouble!” Demetria snarled, and her face was red and twisted in rage. She looked angrier than Nemesis who wasn’t far behind her.

“Yes, well, hindsight and all that,” he dismissed.

Ray tossed a rifle over to Remora. I knew it wasn’t her old, signature rifle. All the same, she readied it in Aion’s direction.

“You may have lived a long life, but you can still bleed,” Remora said, almost as if a warning.

“My poor, pitiful janitor,” his eyes fluttered as his lips lowered to a face of displeasure.

“Let her go and I’ll spare you.”

“Yeah! Let my friend go!” Tigershark shouted.

He chuckled.

“You are all so ridiculous, it hurts. Do you really think you can bargain with me? Be honest,” he began walking toward me once again, his cane-blade readied in one hand.

Remora took the shot.

It was over in an instant: one little swing of his cane-blade and the bullet landed on the floor.

“What? How can that be so?” Remora’s eyes darted between him and the floor.

“It’s not that I was fast. I just got lucky,” he explained. Before I could get any brief relief, his focus shifted back to me. A remote of sorts fell out from his left sleeve and I noticed many yellow buttons set against the dull gray that made up the remote.

Despite looking down, I could tell what he was about to say wasn’t meant for me:

“You know what they say about third time being the charm?”

He pressed one of the buttons.

“That’s why you’re not getting a third chance.”

Tigershark was the first to bump into the invisible wall. She fell over, and Nemesis helped her back up.

“What did you do?” I asked.

“Set up another bounded field, of course. This time in their direction. Now no one can come between us.”

“Why are you doing this?!” Tigershark cried.

“I think I stand for everyone when I say that we’d all like to know,” Ray joined in. “She’s a child. Powerless. Explain yourself. You owe us that much.”

Aion stopped. I continued to back away, and although I still wasn’t close to the others, I wasn’t far from being close, either.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Ray: this thing is not a child. Nor are they powerless. They are infinitely older and more powerful than anyone here,” Aion said.

“That’s my friend you’re talking about!” Tigershark shouted.

His gaze shifted toward her.

“That is not something you can be friends with. They are not human. Never were.”

“Yes she is!”

“No. Some have called the kind of creature this is a cosmic entity, while others have referred to them as angels. I find both to be too broad of statements. But what’s a better term? ‘Emotives’? No, that still doesn’t work.”

“I already know all that! She’s still my friend!” She began banging her hammer, the same one I once made for her, against the invisible wall. I knew it wouldn’t shatter. That was the worst part of all.

“Fine. It’s useless as it is to argue with a child, but let me try: you can consider yourself friends with this thing if you’d like, but you can’t befriend them the way a person can befriend a person. This thing is infinitely larger than you. If anything, if they see you as a friend at all, it’s in the same way that an owner would see their pet as a friend. You two were incompatible from the start.”

“That’s not true! It’s never been true!”

Aion raised an eyebrow.

“You were the one who tried to argue that angels weren’t evil. I can reason with that, actually: they have no concept of good or evil. They simply are. But there’s no doubt how dangerous they are. Their very existence is akin to a natural disaster. Tell me something: if you had a chance to stop a hurricane from happening, wouldn’t you take that chance?”

“I...I don’t know.”

“It’s true that natural disasters are dangerous, but they still play a vital role in our ecosystem. They’re as important to the world as anything else,” Ray cut in.

“Goddamn it, Ray. Can’t you wait your turn like a good boy?” He growled. Rather than return his attention to Tigershark, he changed over to Demetria. “And you, didn’t you say that if this creature hurt Tigershark, you would do anything in your power to kill them?”

Demetria clenched her fists.

“That...that may be so, but Tigershark is happy with her. Astraea hasn’t hurt her, or anyone. There’s no reason to go after something that means us no harm,” Demetria argued. “The only one who means harm here is you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Again. This being has brought harm to all of you this whole time. They’ve just been using surrogates. Cronus? That was all them. They brought Nemesis here, with the sole purpose of bringing harm to your precious Remora. They even brought me here for the purpose of bringing about more conflict. Don’t tell me those actions were harmless.”

“What?” Nemesis gasped. Demetria went silent.

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone! I never wanted Cronus to exist!” I cried.

“But if it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t have been a threat.”

“She didn’t know any better!” Tigershark shouted while continuing to pound her hammer against the wall.

“Irrelevant. Ideas of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ may not exist for ‘her’, but creating conflict is still in ‘her’ nature. Even if it worked out in the end, it’s not going to stop. It’s only going to grow bigger until this planet is no more. Do you really think ‘she’ can resist ‘her’ nature?”

“Yes! And I will help her!”

“Grow up,” he scoffed. “Learn to help yourself first.”

“So you fully intend to kill this angel?” Remora asked.

“Of course. I’ll do what you or Demetria couldn’t. Because I don’t have such sentimentality. Have you heard about one of the tests they did at witch trials? They would tie the witch to a log and throw her into the river. If she lived, she was a witch, and there may be no helping the townsfolk then. But if she died, she wasn’t a witch, and was instead human. Maybe an innocent life was taken and the ones who tied her up were now the evil ones, but at least the town was safe. It’s not a method I agree with, especially one which is contingent on witches not being real. Because if they existed, well...there would be no saving those townsfolk.”

“So you intend to do something similar?”

He gave a solemn nod.

“Do you know the true purpose of the janitors?”

“We were tasked with defending from or eliminating any potential threat to humanity.”

“Broad strokes. Over time, the original meaning and intention became blurred, but never truly erased. There was an external threat, discovered long ago: these celestial beings. That was the true threat to humanity.”

“I get that. Our weapons were created to harm byproducts of them or people who were infected, even possessed by them. Most of us never encountered one, but we all heard about them. But we all knew that we couldn’t harm the actual thing.”

“Those weapons were merely experiments as it was. It was theorized once that an angel could be harmed by using one of their parts against them. As it turns out, the weapons made from their parts could harm their creations, but it still couldn’t harm the main body.”

“So what makes you think your effort will be any different?”

“Because my weapon is like the opposite: I can kill an angel at their source, but I cannot kill their byproducts. I tested it out once before, as the angel of anger is no more, yet I couldn’t keep the damn thing from procreating. Anger still lives on through its offspring. I just have to accept that the universe is a safer place, even if its influence is still vast.”

“What if you’re wrong, then? What if Astraea isn’t the main body, but another byproduct? Then all this scheming, all this effort –”

“All these questions. Does nobody ever trust the method? This is the main body. It’s only condensed down and contorted until it took the shape of a little girl. But within that imitation human lies an endless web. Some would call it the cosmos itself.”

Something welled up in me.

It was a feeling of how wrong everything was.

Not just everything, but everyone, and that included myself. I should have agreed with him, that I had this vast power. That I was dangerous. That I deserved to be taken out. But I also wanted to be friends with Tigershark. I still wanted to experience the life of a human, no matter how mundane or ordinary. Taking that away…

It didn’t matter. Because I already knew what I was.

“SOMEONE! HELP ME!” Tigershark yelled and the others joined in banging at the wall. Demetria used her scythe, Remora used her pole, Nemesis had her curved sword. They were all trying to save this thing that should have disgusted them.

I turned, looked Tigershark in the eye.

“I’m sorry. For everything,” I said to her. My voice was choked up. My mouth was dry. All of it was wrong because I shouldn’t have known what it meant to be choked up, nor should my mouth had dried.

“Don’t say that! We’ll get you out of here!” Tigershark pleaded. Tears began to take form around the lids of her eyes.

“Do you have any last words?” Aion asked, his blade pointed in my direction.

“Yes,” I nodded. This time with a smile on my face. I should have had enough power. I didn’t know why any of them were panicking. I could form a barrier of my own. I could still block his attack.

I held my hands out in front of me.

“I’m not what you think I am. I’m not an angel after all,” I recited.

“Oh really? And what are you?” He readied his blade and ran toward me. If I had any power left in me, I could do this, it would…

...pass right through my hands and into my chest.

I felt the poke before it went in. Sharp, heavy.

I didn’t scream, I only gasped as the air escaped me.

Looking down, I noticed the blood drip onto my white dress, staining it. Worse, it seeped onto his blade and slid from there as well. My vision began to blur, and my eyes were having trouble staying open. Everything felt slow, fast, heavy, weightless. Numb. Feeling only pain.

“NO!” Tigershark screamed.

A streak of tears ran down my face, and I uttered what would be my last words:

“I’m human.”

Amen.

[thetoxicgamer]

Why G2 Are the Favorite to Win IEM Katowice 2023

Over the past few weeks, the European superteam has been playing practically flawless CS:GO while exhibiting great individual mechanics, confidence, and strategy. These elements work together to make it difficult for G2's adversaries to win a map against them, let alone a series. Once you dive into G2’s record, you’ll quickly realize some impressive feats. Rasmus “HooXi” Nielsen and his men are currently on a 17-map win streak. They’ve also won 10 series in a row, with their latest loss being against FaZe Clan on Dec. 14 during the BLAST Premier World Final 2022, an event which they won. Since that loss, G2 have not only gotten revenge against FaZe twice but also defeated some other significant teams in CS:GO. They overcame Vitality, Liquid, BIG (twice), and Natus Vincere (three times), and have only lost a single map against the former. The European squad secured a place directly in the IEM Katowice 2023 semifinals and it’s tough to predict anyone beating them in the race for the trophy. Here are a few reasons why. G2 players are stepping up Photo by Jak Howard via BLAST Premier With a lineup of G2’s caliber, it should always be expected to see the individuals perform at a high level under immense pressure. In the last two months, though, they’ve done more than that. The star names of Ilya “m0NESY” Osipov and Nikola “NiKo” Kovač have been bringing their A-game lately. The latter was the best player of BLAST Premier Spring Groups 2023 with a 1.48 rating, with the young AWPer following in ninth place with a 1.16 rating, according to HLTV. And Nemanja “huNter-” Kovač has been producing solid numbers as well, having a 1.13 rating in the IEM Katowice 2023 group stage. Moreover, two other G2 players have also leveled up their play, even though their roles don’t demand admirable numbers. Still, as of now, support player Justin “jks” Savage is the third-best player of the IEM Katowice 2023 group stage with a 1.30 rating. And even their IGL HooXi has a decent rating with a 0.99 score at the event, similar to star players like Emil “Magisk” Reif (0.97) and Lotan “Spinx” Giladi (1.01). G2 players have been solid across multiple competitions as of late, and that’s a fact, not an opinion. With such a great form, only they can be their own greatest enemies if they get overconfident. They have their head in the right place But it doesn’t look like G2 are getting overconfident since the players have been constantly underlining that they take things step by step and keep it cool. “We have experienced players in the team who went through a lot of things, and we know what we should do to not get overconfident,” huNter- said in a post-game interview after G2’s latest win over NAVI. “We are aware of it, that can be dangerous. … Step by step, game by game, and yeah, we are only thinking about the next opponent.” At the same time, huNter- pointed out that G2 are aware of being the strongest team in the world right now and that every other squad will be aiming to bring them down. And when it comes to staying at the top and securing trophies, having that self-awareness and being cautious when approaching their next opponents are key to staying in that place. Don’t make wrong assumptions, though: G2 are still playing confidently. In round 20 against NAVI during IEM Katowice 2023, they boldly took control of the lobby on Nuke’s CT side just 10 seconds into the round, despite having a comfortable 12-7 lead. Aggressive plays like these are typically a sign of desperation from teams. But in this case, it was a pure example of G2’s confidence in their individual form and the strategies they had prepared. That round, like the remaining three, were won by G2. G2’s stars outperform other iconic players Some of the greatest stories in CS:GO are written by exceptional individual performances. You can have a team that performs well across the board and has its head in the right place and still lose due to a single enemy’s brilliance. Well, that doesn’t look like the case here since G2’s superstars are also blowing out the competition. Their AWPer m0NESY has already made some unbelievable plays in Katowice. During Inferno against NAVI, he secured a one-vs-two clutch on B site defense, which sealed the map for G2. More importantly, m0NESY won all 13 duels in that series against the G.O.A.T. of CS:GO, s1mple, according to HLTV. When you come at the king, you better not miss, and m0NESY is hitting all his shots so far. In the 10-year history of IEM Katowice, no team has won the tournament without losing a single map. With their performances so far in Poland, though, G2 could very well write history as the first roster to do so. If that were to happen, jks would also become the first player to win the event back-to-back on two different lineups since he triumphed with FaZe Clan last year. Any of the other five teams who will play in the Spodek Arena have the capabilities to take down G2, with the toughest opponent being Heroic, at least on paper. Moreover, Heroic are the only one of the five teams left who haven’t lost to G2 since the latter’s loss to FaZe in December. So if there’s a final nemesis on G2’s way to IEM Katowice 2023’s trophy, it’s them. If they meet in the final, it will certainly be a series for the history books. IEM Katowice 2023 returns this Friday, Feb. 10 with the quarterfinals. G2 will face the winner of the Liquid vs. Vitality matchup on Saturday, Feb. 11. Read the full article

[wackology]

Bruh so i just realized how underpowered the really rottens are compared to the other 2 teams. Like the scooby doobies have two superheros, a robot dog, a fucking genie, a sentient car, a dog who know martial arts and ultrainstinct shaggy. The yogi yahooeys have a FUCKING KAIJU. The most physically powerful rotten was dinky who is nothing compared to great ape or captain caveman. And dont even get me started on their equipment bruh. You know that millionaire art collector Blue Falcon was funding the scooby doobies hence why they always had the best equipment, the yogi team had their acting jigs that let the dough flow, the really rottens equiptment is most likely made by them using pieces of scrap or old and patched up and about to fall apart. There's something admirable about these slimeballs scrappiness, despite being poorly funded and lacking any special abilities the other teams have, they still put up a good fight and find ways to win even if the methods arent the most honest and if they get themselves disqualified all the time. Its literally a girl and her pet pig from bumfuck nowhere USA, a birthday magician, an ex detective dog, a man with a fucking broom hat, a family and their 8 year old and their pet octopus, and some fatass cowboys against a group of furries and their kaiju best friend and a group of superheros, crimefighters,mystery solvers, a cyborg, an AI car and a fucking genie.

[kseniyagreen]

The drama Beyond Evil as a philosophical parable about human relationships.

The drama begins in the spirit of the classic detective story. A young policeman, Han Joo Won, arrives in the small provincial town of Manyang, the place where a murder took place 20 years ago and remains unsolved. Han Joo Won is talented, educated and has connections at the very top - his father is deputy chief commissioner of police. Han Joo Won is also full of enthusiasm, bordering on obsession, to solve a case that his father never solved. According to the laws of the genre, we have a limited number of suspects connected by a long history of relationships, keeping their own and other people's secrets. And the biggest secret seems to be Han Joo Won's partner, police officer Lee Dong Sik. Twenty years ago, he was arrested on suspicion of the murder of his sister, but released for lack of evidence.

The plot of Beyond Evil is well twisted, and a new intrigue is revealed behind each denouement. But at the same time, already in the first episodes, I felt that Beyond Evil could be more than just a good detective. And I was not wrong.

From the very first episodes, we plunge into the drama, like into a fabulous whirlpool. We get to know the life of a provincial town. We watch Lee Dong Sik intently, trying to figure out what is behind his extravagant behavior.  Shin Ha Kyun in this role masterfully  balances on the border of light and shadow, sober calculation and madness. In the meantime, we are wondering who he is - a "fallen angel" or a bright angel who fell from a height and broke his wings. We look into the faces of all the heroes, trying to determine which of them is the monster. And gradually we are imbued with the mesmerizing  beauty of this world and its inhabitants. 

At first, Han Joo Won was perceived as an outsider. "Young master" in an expensive suit, completely alien among the ordinary people of Manyang. And it's not just about social status. Han Joo Won chose this role for himself - an independent observer who looks from above at the ugliness of this world and does not touch the dirt. However, the further he progresses in his research, the more personal it becomes, and the mask of equanimity slips from his face. This is how a classic detective story turns into a psychological journey - to feelings and memories walled up in the basements of the soul, into a journey to someone else and to oneself. Because these two processes always go together - to find yourself, you need to see the other and be seen. Find your own reflection in the other person's eyes. 

The drama Beyond Evil is a real maze of reflections. Each significant event, the history of each hero has its own reflection. Some of them are false, some of them are true, but all these fragments, put together, allow you to see the truth. There is such a method of image restoration - from several dull and even distorted reflections, you can recreate a real image.  We recognize heroes by the way they are reflected in each other. And each new meeting, each new dialogue is another step towards finding a real face. This approach makes the image of each character multidimensional and deep.

The drama really captures all aspects of the relationship. Family relationships – healthy or toxic. Relations with oneself, relationships with the world, social relationships - the law and its implementation. Morality as the ability to contact. Breaking up relationships like disappearing. The attitude towards the deceased loved ones and the ways of dealing with loss, with death. Relationships are alive, supportive and healing. Relationships are codependent, burdensome and suffocating. Personality always lives in a relationship. Fencing off from the world, a person cuts off a part of himself and, ultimately, can completely die as a person. This is how a person turns into a monster.

“Everyone in the city is like one family,” says Han Joo Won of the residents of Manyang. And he is absolutely right. All heroes are connected to each other by a whole network of threads. But somewhere these are the supporting threads of life, and somewhere they are suffocating fetters. The family image is central to the drama. Everything begins with it - everything ends with it. For each of the heroes, this word means something different - a project, a burden, a duty, a dream of absolute happiness. But for everyone, it carries a lot of weight. Thus, a small town turns out to be a global metaphor for a community, a social family, in which our humanity is born, but sometimes dies. The density of connections and meanings in the drama is so great that not only each character, but the whole world of the drama is felt as something living, animated. The city of Manyang is not just a place of action, but an independent character. The whole city, as an integral living system, exists according to its own laws. The Beyond Evil story is the story of Manyang's illness and healing.

What's also great about the Beyond Evil is that there is no moralizing in it. Despite the great semantic load, the author does not reduce everything to one idea, does not teach, but shows reality in its complexity, even paradoxicality. Each character is a part of a big picture, an element of the inner life of an integral system. But also everyone is a separate unique person, with their own choice and responsibility for this choice. The story of the Beyond Evil is the story of Manyang, but it’s just as much the story of two people meeting. It is no coincidence that all the main scenes are "doubled". If you look at the titles of the episodes, you can see that the pairing is "sewn" into the very structure of the script. As if the whole story is a long dialogue between two, a series of questions and answers. Each character in the drama is interesting. Each has its own story, its own drama, its own unique personality. But the main axis of the whole story is the meeting and dialogue of the two main characters.

Lee Dong Sik and Han Joo Won, so different, but equally extraordinary, strong in spirit, but practically buried under the rubble of their own psychological trauma. Throughout the drama, they continually drift apart and collide, let go and catch each other, meeting again each time on a deeper level. They go a long way from mutual irritation, exploitation, projecting their fears and expectations onto each other, to true mutual understanding. Throughout the entire drama, the characters stare at each other - with suspicion, with rage, with interest, admiration, tenderness. But invariably - with intense attention, as if looking for something very important in each other's eyes. And in the end they find and return to each other the opportunity to be themselves - whole, feeling, alive. In my opinion, Beyond Evil, like no other drama, showed us an example of perfect human contact. At that difficultly attainable level, when you see and accept another as he is, in his true essence. The bromance of the main characters of the Beyond Evil is so beautiful that it overshadowed all the drama love lines for me. In fact, this is a "love story" - like the love of one soul for another soul. Someone sees them as a mentor and student. Someone sees them as father and son or even as a couple in love. In my opinion, we were specially shown these relations at such a level of generalization that each viewer is free to interpret them in his own way. For me, they are the embodiment of the idea of an existential meeting, beyond any categories.

The Beyond Evil is a theatrical chamber drama. But this simplicity of the means has a deep meaning. The real challenge for an artist is to show everyday reality as something magical, wonderful, and sometimes monstrous. And the Beyond Evil succeeded to create a heroic epic in the scenery of a small provincial town, where a butcher's shop, the basement of an old house or a reed field feel like a mystical place. Where dramatic battles and wonderful metamorphoses take place in the dialogues between the characters. Magic is created in the Beyond Evil, not taking away from reality, but immersing it in it. This is the fantasy world that really exists - in the space of the human psyche, in relationships between people.

This is a huge burden on the actors. They don't just need to play their characters, the actors pretty much create the world and atmosphere of the drama. And they also need to show the development and even the rebirth of their characters. Many characters in the drama wear masks. But in the end all the masks will be removed, ripped off or washed away by the rain. And under someone's mask we will find a monstrous grin, and under someone's - a beautiful face. Shin Ha Kyun and Yeo Jin Goo play characters whose faces change throughout the drama. In each new episode, they experience new trials, different emotions, but their eyes express not only situational emotions, but also profound personality changes. In some scenes, they need to act so subtly that it is like walking on a tightrope. A slightly different expression - and the impression would be wrong. But the actors are perfect in every shot.

The talent of all the participants has created an amazing artistic world. It's like the famous Doctor Who machine - more inside than outside. And you can dive into this depth over and over again, finding new nuances and meanings.

[ohnococo]

A Mess | Zeke x F!Reader x Reiner

Summary: You and Zeke sleep together from time to time, even though he knows Reiner has a thing for you. Eventually he decides to do something about it. (MODERN AU)

Warnings: Sleazy Zeke, Sex, Cumshots, Threesome, FWB

MINORS DNI/18+ ONLY UNDER THE CUT

Zeke had this innate ability to just make things messy in a way that favored him perfectly. He’d done it with you - starting out as friends with benefits and progressing that into something a little more shameless that had your whole friend group seeming a little tense about you two potentially dating, knowing none of Zeke’s trysts lasted long. He was doing it again now, albeit this one had been a much slower build up. He’d been stoking this fire from before the two of you had even begun fucking, in fact.

He saw the way Reiner always looked at you, the schoolboy crush he’d harbored from way back when he was, well, an actual schoolboy. Except now he was very much a grown man and was very much still squandering every opportunity he’d had to get with you.

Zeke knew what Reiner was like, what reservations and morals the younger man had that he certainly did not share. When Zeke had finally made the move to kiss you in front of your friends - or rather next to them while you were all on the couch during a movie - Reiner hadn’t been pushed into action. No pulling you aside for a sudden confession of love, or plea to give him a chance. Instead, Reiner seemed to decide that instead of it being now, it was going to be never. The idea of two long-time friends of a close knit group dating was already a bit awkward for everyone, you all were never the type for love triangles and unnecessary drama, there was no way Reiner would add an attempt to date you to that awkwardness. A girl dating one of her old guy friends is one thing, romantic even if it all works out, but a girl dating two - meaning most - of her guy friends leaves a bad impression. That’s what Zeke figured Reiner had reasoned, at least.

Messy bitch that he is though, Zeke decided to test Reiner’s resolve at being the noble martyr, tortured by his unrequited love that was all his own doing. Maybe he would lighten up a bit more too. So Zeke did small things to set the wheels in motion, making plans with the two of you to play a board game or watch a show then finding some excuse to leave suddenly half way through. Pretending to be much more drunk than he is while setting you on Reiner’s lap at a party, exaggeratedly slurring out, “Keep an eye on her while I go piss. She’s a wily one.”

Through it all Reiner was respectful as ever: hands to himself except for sliding you off his lap to take his seat while he stood and waited for Zeke to return, never even entertaining making a move on you. It drove Zeke up a fucking wall, especially when Reiner would end the nights he’d been stranded at your house (while Zeke feigned some sudden need to pick up Eren and drop him off at his dorm) with a text to Zeke at a nauseatingly sensible 9:30.

Reiner: Hey just got home. hope Eren’s didn’t puke in your car again lol

Reiner was big, Reiner was beefy, and Reiner was a fucking coward. Zeke didn’t know why he cared so much. Maybe because he was always trying to show his friends he was better than them in some way or another and Reiner had just taken it on the chin. Maybe it was because he felt a little bad for fucking around with someone who had been a dear friend, he didn’t intend for this to go anywhere after all, and Reiner did really like you. Zeke would never admit it if it was indeed the second one, though, so he just decided to get messier.

It was easy enough with the three of you being the only ones in the group to have the shared interest of board games. So he invited you both over to his place to try out a new game he’d gotten. You and Reiner chalked up Zeke’s smug demeanor to him showing off another overly-complicated board game he’d surely win despite playing it for the first time. Really, it was the undeniable feeling that tonight would be fun keeping Zeke in such high spirits.

One game in - that Zeke won of course - and he’d already managed to coax Reiner into drinking. Just a beer to start the game, then one more to keep it going. He wasn’t getting wasted by any means, not a man his size, but Zeke knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t have a third beer and drive. So while Reiner set the board up to start again, Zeke gave him another beer, clearing the table of old drinks and setting the new one down casually enough that his friend wasn’t even thinking about how he’d get home after finishing off the new drink.

The game went by, Reiner went through another bottle, and as Zeke was satisfied with winning again he decided to bring this part of the evening to a close.

“I’ve had enough of winning for tonight. The two of you will have to have a 1v1 on your own sometime to catch up with me.” Zeke teased, packing away the little pieces.

Reiner is quick to respond, “Pretty cocky for a guy who still can’t win at Sorry.”

Zeke takes the bait, only because he wants Reiner feeling confident for later. “Only because that game is pure luck.”

“Sure it is.” Reiner stands and stretches, grabbing his bottle to put with Zeke’s recycling. “Anyway, I should head out now, it’s getting late.”

“Not after four beers you shouldn’t.” You warn, Zeke can’t hide the way the corners of his mouth turn up, you did always pay awfully close attention to Reiner, didn’t you?

“Shit, you’re right - mind if I stay in your guest bedroom?”

Zeke shrugs, no stranger to having one of his friends crashing at his house, “Go right ahead.”

“Thanks.”

-

Zeke is quick to get you alone, and you only half push him away as he begins kissing at the spot on your neck that has heat building in your stomach as soon as you’re both in his bedroom. He’d made sure to leave his door cracked, and made sure to pick you up and lie you down on the bed before you noticed. As you sigh at his touch he decides he’s waited long enough for the main event, pulling your pants and underwear off in one rough motion and burying his face between your legs.

“Zeke, stop it.” He knows your protests are hollow, your hands coming down to tangle in his hair rather than push him away. His tongue works its way gently but purposefully through your folds, just barely brushing over your clit before working his way back to tease at your entrance. Your moan is only half out before you’re clasping your hands over your mouth, looking down at him and laughing. “At least wait until Reiner’s asleep.”

He smirks up at you and makes a deal, knowing you don’t understand the full extent of it and know he won’t be losing anyway. “If he’s not asleep in ten minutes, that’s his problem.”

You think for a moment, biting your lip, but as he locks his lips around your clit you’re not really in a position to protest as you rock your hips up against his face.

Zeke goes easy on you, sort of, he refrains from sliding his fingers in your tight little hole while he laps at your swollen clit - and he at least listens when you ask him to slow down for a second, giving you the chance to catch your breath and keep yourself from getting to the point where you can’t control the noises you make, but you were still getting steadily louder. The ten minutes go by slowly for the both of you, as Zeke teases at your most sensitive spots, until you’re glistening beneath him. His wait is over as he kisses his way up your body, pulling your shirt up and off as he goes until his lips meet yours.

“It’s time.”

You’re too far gone to pick up that hint of something else in Zeke’s voice as he flips you over so you’re on your stomach facing the door and he’s quickly in place behind you, pulling you onto all fours. You’re too ready for his cock to pay attention to how loud his soft slap on your ass is before he pulls off his pants and rifles through his bedside drawer for a condom. You turn your head to watch him as he slides it on, arching your back so he can get an eyeful of your awaiting pussy. He’s not feeling gentle or merciful tonight, and that doesn’t seem to be what you want anyway as you groan at the feel of his cock stretching you wide as he enters and bottoms out inside of you in one smooth motion.

Zeke knows you’re holding back though, doing your very best to stifle the noises he’s forcing from you as his cock slides against your walls just right, and that’s not what he wants. He slaps your ass again, hard, and you keen before getting a hold of yourself to send him a look of warning over your shoulder.

“You think Reiner’s still awake to listen to how good you sound when I fuck you?” You tighten around him, pussy fluttering at the thought, and that gives Zeke the final push to do just what he’d intended. “Do you want to find out?”

There’s no time to think about the implications of his question, as Zeke wraps his arm around your waist, hoisting you up so your back is pressed to his chest as he sets a brutal pace.

“Reiner!” Zeke’s voice booms, and this time when you’re pussy clenches around him he knows it’s not just due to the pleasure coursing through you. “Reiner, come here!”

“Zeke-”

“Shh…” He brings the hand that was previously gripping your hip tightly up to cup your face, rubbing his thumb over your lips, “He knows what we’re doing. If he doesn’t want to see it he’ll stay in bed.”

You’re blushing, equal measures embarrassed and aroused, and the wait only makes your heart beat faster. A few moments of what was no doubt tortuous conflict passes and you hear the door to the room next to Zeke’s open slowly, followed by another long moment before Zeke’s door is pushed open fully.

“See, I knew you weren’t that much of a coward, Reiner.” Zeke’s voice is straining from how hard he’s fucking you, and how excited he is to have his plan come perfectly together as Reiner locks eyes with you.

He looks you over slowly as none of you speak, watching your tits bounce as you take Zeke, swallowing hard at the sight of your slick dripping down your thighs, ears ringing at the sound of skin on sin. He’s already hard and tenting his boxer briefs, hair already disheveled from tossing and turning in bed as he listened to you try and fail to stay silent. Zeke is happy to let him watch, but he decides he wants him to do something more than just stand there like a lost dog.

“Well?” Reiner is snapped from his daze and looks at Zeke as if he’d only thought about him being there. “Are you going to do something about it?”

Reiner looks at you, and your soft cry of his name thrusts him into motion as he comes to join the two of you on the bed. He cups your face in his hands, kissing you and drinking in your moans as your pussy flutters around Zeke’s cock. Reiner is soft, so soft compared to how hard you’re being fucked, but intense as he groans into your mouth and bites at your bottom lip. He pulls away to breathe, but only for a moment before he’s working his way to your neck to leave all the marks he’d dreamt of gifting you with for years. His hands are quick to find your clit, rubbing soft circles as Zeke continues to work at you from inside, and your hands quickly reach for his cock in turn.

“So big…” you sigh, savoring the feeling of running your hands over his thick cock through his underwear, before pushing them down as far as you can reach with Zeke pulling you into his thrusts. Thankfully, it’s far enough to free Reiner’s cock and you shiver in Zeke’s grasp as it rubs against your stomach while Reiner presses his body to yours. You barely have your fingers wrapped around him before he’s thrusting up into your hand, already groaning, already close - you wonder for a moment if he’d already been touching himself to the sounds of you.

Zeke would guess yes, and can’t help getting his sly little digs in even as the two of you do exactly as he’d intended, “Close already? Good thing I’m here to satisfy her.”

Reiner doesn’t take that easily, working your clit faster and the way your pussy grips Zeke has him hurling closer to the edge right along with you both. Reiner breathes his words into your skin, sending shivers through you again and again, “Cum for me… cum with me…”

You do, and both of your work against each other stutters as you cum together, Reiner painting your stomach as your pussy threatens to undo Zeke right along with you. He holds on, however, fucking you through your orgasm as Reiner thrusts into your hand until the last of his cum is covering your soft skin and the fluttering of your pussy slows.

Zeke pulls out and releases you, sending you forward and into Reiner’s waiting arms as he pulls off his condom and finishes himself off on your ass, adding his mess to the mix as well. Reiner keeps kissing you, rubbing your back, smiling at the way you shiver when Zeke begins rubbing his cum into your skin.

“That was…” Reiner starts, then stops, looking into your eyes and trying to parse what just happened.

Zeke doesn’t want to give him too much time to think, knowing that just leads to more annoyance with Reiner, so instead he lies down, pulling you with him. “The bed’s big enough for three.”

Reiner pauses, still thinking instead of doing, until you’re patting the space on the bed next to you. “C’mon, Reiner, lets get some rest.”

For you, he’ll listen to anything, something Zeke huffs at as you rest your head on his shoulder, and your hand on Reiner’s chest. You’re first to fall asleep, and Reiner lies there staring at you dreamily, finally basking in the moment for once. Then, it’s Zeke’s turn to think, and think too much as he considers just what he might have started. He wasn’t sure what he felt, not quite jealousy… but not victory either. He felt smug, but also like he’d gotten himself in over his head. Maybe he wanted Reiner here for different reasons than he’d originally thought. Maybe he wanted you for different reasons than he’d originally thought too. Zeke closes his eyes and decides everyone’s had enough thinking for the day, deciding to sleep before he dwelled too long on the mess he’d made.

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

[ckneal]

There’s a midam AU idea that’s been living in the back of my mind for months now, but it’s been slow going. Mainly because I suspect that doing the idea justice is going to mean doing more research than I’m used to, and maybe even rewatching the series proper to help me fill in some of the weak spots, and I have so many other story ideas that are frankly just easier to work on, two of which are already slated to be multi-chapter works. . . But I’m in the mood to type up something longwinded, so here we go. Keep reading if you’d like to see a rough outline of the first few chapters of this story I really hope to write out properly sometime.

(Warning, this is a long one.)

So, this story is loosely based on the Hundred Years War that took place between England and France from 1337-1453. But it’s only very loosely inspired. Very, very loosely. As in, I was reading a book, I read about one thing that happened, it germinated in my head, and then suddenly I had a plot developing that featured my current favorite ship. Additional sources of inspiration include one of my favorite fantasy series, and a personally beloved trashy romance novel. Because it’s fanfiction, folks. There are no rules here.

Of course, in this AU, the entire world is going to be made up, with neither side of the war distinctly being assigned the role of England or France—or Flanders or Burgundy, for that matter. I barrowed an inciting incident, and few smaller details from history to help things along here and there, but with no regard for keeping all the French things assigned to one group and the English ones to another.

That said, the inciting incident took its inspiration from the Battle of Poiters, a conflict during which England not only won against the French, but also took their king hostage. King Jean II was later ransomed back to his people, but at a sum that was so high, France could not afford to pay it all at once. England still returned France’s king, but new hostages were provided to serve as collateral during the interim, including the King’s son.

So. . .crown Prince Michael Shurley completely decimates King John Winchester on the battlefield, and sends his demands to John’s queen, Mary Winchester. The two kingdoms have been locked in a territory dispute for several decades, and this is one of the more humiliating events to befall the smaller kingdom yet, especially since they are unable to meet all of Michael’s demands. When the Winchesters begrudgingly admit this to the Shurley representatives, they’re caught off guard when they’re offered a trade: John Winchester will be returned, so long Dean Winchester takes his place as collateral.

Things are less than stable in the Winchester kingdom however, with more than a few factions quietly scheming for power. John and Mary were an arranged marriage that was originally held up like a fairytale when the two seemingly fell madly in love during their mandated courtship, but the years afterward had changed them. Civil unrest sparked by the war had brought out a lot of disagreements between the Winchesters and the Campbells and their approaches to governing.

John’s supporters are the ones to step forward with a plan, and convince Mary that it’s vitally important the people are not alarmed by their king’s capture. Mary initially finds it distasteful, but it’s talked around and adjusted and reframed, as John’s people ferret out more and more information about the vital party involved, until she finally agrees.

Because John Winchester just happened to have a bastard son. The resemblance to Dean might not be particularly remarkable, but no one at the Shurley court has ever seen the Winchester heir before. Plus, Adam Milligan has spent the entirety of his teen years studying to become a physician, of all things. He’s perfect for their purposes. 

Ten years prior, the Shurley court had had to deal with its own bout of civil unrest, when King Chuck Shurley’s second eldest son had attempted to overthrow him with the support of several nobles from one the kingdom’s richest providences. Lucifer had allegedly been driven into exile following his defeat, and Chuck had been said to have contracted some sort of mysterious illness. According to rumors, the king had shut himself up in his private chambers and refused to admit anyone apart from his remaining children. Even servants were barred from tending him directly.

They snatch Adam away from his studies and force him into compliance by dusting off an archaic law left over from before the start of the war, when the kingdom relied on a conscription military force rather than a standing army full of career military professionals—this law empowering the crown to call on any of its citizens for a minimum forty days of military service per year. They tell Adam that his mission seems more dangerous than it is—really, all he has to do is pretend to be Dean, and use his medical knowledge to figure out exactly what mysterious illness has bedridden the enemy monarch.

Sam and Dean—the proverbial heir and spare of the kingdom—are not at court to meet their younger brother, when he’s hastily fitted for a royal wardrobe and put through a crash course on court etiquette. Sam is very publicly put on display at a holiday festival in another part of the kingdom, while Dean is sent orders to quietly stay behind at a country estate while his valet, Kevin Tran, is sent on to court. Neither of the princes is told about the plan until after Adam has already been shipped out, with Kevin in toe to help Adam along with the impersonation.

No one involved is in anyway comfortable with the mission. But it was only supposed to be for forty days. Adam was assured that the necessary funds to pay off the ransom would either be raised by the end of the minimum mandated service, or they would make contact to extract him. The Campbells and the Winchesters both allegedly had spies in the Shurley court, and they would make themselves known when the time was right.

Adam is given the impression that the latter had been told to him with the intention of making him feel safer. It did not work.

He’s terrified when he arrives—almost would have preferred being promptly thrown into a dungeon upon arrival, instead of a room full of foreign nobility who one and all give off the impression that if cut they’d bleed straight silver, and look at “Dean,” the hostage prince and purported military genius from the tiny, vicious country across the channel, as a curiosity to be studied. He’s assigned two guards (who I decided will be Anael and Samandriel, based entirely on the tags I threw together at then end of this post, during which I decided that I love these three together), who follow him around relentlessly, but beyond that, he’s. . .pretty much treated like a guest. If a stiflingly monitored one. There are limitations on where he can go and what he can do, but for the most part he’s just sort of. . .there.

Most unnerving of all, however, is the small package that Adam finds in his room when he first settles in. Kevin swears he has no idea who left it. It has the Campbell’s insignia clearly worked into the pattern of the paper it’s wrapped in, and inside he finds a knife small enough to conceal on his person, and a number of different herbs and powders that he recognizes from his studies—though of course, he’s more familiar with remedies to counteract their effects.

In other words, he finds an assassin’s-first-kill-job kit, and instructions on how and when to use it, if opportunity arises. This had not been part of the deal when Adam reluctantly signed on.

Unbeknownst to Adam however—though suspected by some parties in the Winchester court—Adam cannot assassinate Chuck Shurley, because Chuck is not there. Shortly after Lucifer’s insurrection, Chuck had quietly disappeared. Michael had only been a teenager at the time. He invented the story about Chuck being ill on impulse, certain that Chuck would be back sooner than later, and Raphael had gone along with it because, being twelve years old, Raphael was not yet old enough to question Michael’s judgement. It is now an awkward point between them.

Adam soon becomes another.

Michael regularly checks in to see how Adam’s getting on, in a way that Kevin assures Adam is entirely appropriate, since Michael is under the impression that Adam is going to be a fellow monarch someday, and is likely trying to be courteous. Adam inherently feels somewhat flustered around Michael though, which is not helped by the fact that Michael is somehow always present whenever Adam puts his foot in his mouth socially. On more than one occasion, he’s thankful that almost no one has actually been to his homeland, allowing Adam to blame an astonishing number of fuck ups on cultural differences.

Michael and Adam’s early one on one interaction are intensely awkward. Adam will forget to wear gloves, and then Michael will comment that Adam’s hands are oddly devoid of callouses for someone who’d practically been raised with a sword in his hand, leaving Adam to scramble for some flimsy excuse about hand cream. Adam will inquisitively ask questions about what sort of illness would be severe enough to leave someone bedridden for a decade but not kill them in that time (Kevin frantically motioning over Michael’s shoulder to convey that that is NOT the right way to fish for details on such a sensitive subject), and Michael will struggle to find an excuse around the quietly bubbling panic, because he hasn’t had to try to explain anything about his father since that first year, and he is not a particularly gifted liar.  

And then there’s Raphael.

Unlike Michael, Raphael is suspicious of “Dean” right from the start, pulling Michael aside to point out things that don’t seem quite right according to what their informants have told them about Dean Winchester.

“Doesn’t he look a bit young?”

“Some people look younger than they are, Raphael.”

“I was told Dean Winchester had dark hair.”

“Dark blond is dark.”

“Aren’t his eyes supposed to be green?”

“They’re obviously blue.”

“That’s exactly my point.”

The forty days come and go with Adam and Kevin nervously waiting for some sort of sign from home. Roughly two weeks later, a messenger arrives with unexpected news for Michael’s court: the Campbells have officially broken ties with the Winchesters in a violent bid for power that has left the kingdom at war with itself.

According to Kevin, the civil war has probably slowed things down a bit, if it’s as bad as the rumors say. . .

Adam and Kevin are stranded.

“Don’t worry though—I know Dean, and he knows our necks are on the line. He’ll keep out of sight until they manage to get us out of here.”

Adam finds it difficult to put faith in the virtues of a brother he’s never met, but doesn’t have it in him to question Kevin’s faith. He worries about his mother, who might have been safe in the countryside, but also might have made the trek to the capitol when it came out that Adam had been abducted for the sake of persevering the royal family's throne. He can’t be sure.

And to top it off, Michael takes to stopping by Adam’s room every couple of days to privately talk about the movements of the various factions—who has been sighted where and in what condition, where they’re rumored to be headed. Adam interprets it as an attempt to shake out inside information. One day, Adam finally tries to set him straight by saying it doesn’t matter how many ugly details Michael throws at him, Adam can’t help him because he doesn’t know anything—and is promptly put to shame when Michael looks at him in surprise and says, “You misunderstand. I assumed that you would want to know these things, because they are your family.”

Michael leaves, and Adam’s guards exchange a look. When asked, Samandriel awkwardly tells Adam that the royal family used to have a fourth child. Gabriel. He was lost during Lucifer’s insurrection. Pirates overtook his ship. They’d never received a ransom. Michael had purportedly offered a standing reward for any news of Gabriel, and put an unwise amount of resources into searching for him until it threatened the war effort.

Adam and Michael start talking more frequently from there, starting with an apology on Adam’s part. It’s tricky at first, because Michael starts out asking questions about Dean Winchester's military exploits—it is the most likely common ground between them, after all—and Adam has to hastily change the subject every time. By the two month mark, they’re talking affably, and rumors start to circulate through the courts as Michael's routine check ins on Adam start getting less formal and more frequent.

On the four month mark, rumors get even worse. Raphael finally sits Michael down and really gets into all of the things about “Dean” that don’t add up, item by item. If he’s trying to pretend he doesn’t know anything about his country’s military exploits, he’s far too convincing given his reported record, and Raphael has it on good authority that more than half of those “cultural differences” in etiquette that keep cropping up are completely unfounded—and look here, three different informants have sent lists of Dean Winchester’s physical characteristics, and the foreign prince DOES NOT MATCH.

“Michael, something is not right here.”

“Fine, I’ll talk to him about it now.”

And Michael storms off to address “Dean,” while Raphael calls after him that he should wait until morning. Because it is the middle of the night.

Adam just happens to be up reading. Michael’s familiar with the book. Michael gets distracted, and they talk all night. The sun’s coming up when Michael finally leaves, and a servant happens to see him slipping out of Adam’s room. Suggestive conjectures promptly follow, and Raphael exasperatedly admits they only have themself to blame.

And this only gets worse, because now Adam and Michael have transitioned into being friends. No more guarded conversations where one is convinced the other is about to catch them in some sort of lie. When Raphael mentions that some of the lesser nobles are starting to think Michael and Adam are courting, Michael’s fidgeting is not at all lost on them, as Michael assures them that of course that isn't the case. He and Dean are merely establishing friendly relations that will serve them well down the road politically—

“After the war is over?”

“Of course, after the war is over.”

Adam’s been stranded in the Shurley court for almost a year by the time that he finally slips into his room and sees a sealed message set out on his bed. Adam doesn’t recognize the insignia as belonging to either the Winchesters or the Campbells, but it’s signed with the initials “SW” at the bottom. It mostly contains a lot of vague phrases that make Adam wonder if he was supposed to be versed in some sort of code. As far as he’s concerned, the only important information comes at the end: Kate Milligan has been safely relocated for the duration of the civil war.

Relieved, Adam goes down to dinner, where some sort of seasonal holiday is being celebrated, and has a bit more wine than he normally would. The Shurley court is one of those stuffy courts where seating is stiffly dictated by tradition. As a foreign prince, Adam’s assigned seat is at the same table as Michael, although, according to Kevin, his placement's much further down due to his being a hostage. After a few drinks, and after most of the nobles have cleared off from the table to talk and celebrate elsewhere in the hall, Adam sees no reason not to get up and relocate down the line of chairs to sit closer to Michael. It was against the rules, but Adam was aware enough not to sit in Raphael’s empty seat, and he’d been seen with Michael so often that Anael and Samandriel barely even blinked, because Adam obviously wasn’t about to attack their prince or anything.

However, it is worth noting that while talking to Adam, Michael consumes a decent amount more wine than he would normally have as well.

Later that night, Michael’s walking Adam back to his room, and he starts to comment that Adam seems happier than usual. But even when sober, Michael would struggle to say something like that—if he’d even attempt it while sober—and Adam winds up biting his lip as he watches Michael’s mounting embarrassment, as a simple compliment inexplicably morphs—words seemingly forcing their way out as Michael tries and utterly fails to stop them—into a compliment about how Adam is beautiful—that is, he’s always beautiful—that is, Michael can’t help noticing Adam most days—that is. . .

. . .Michael is adorable. And in a moment of pure, thoughtless impulse, Adam leans in and kisses Michael right there in the corridor.

Michael is profoundly shocked, and his reaction delayed. Adam had only gone in intending to briefly press his lips against Michael’s, but as he’s pulling away Michael abruptly leans in and reseals the kiss, and Adam in turn takes that as an invitation to pull Michael closer. And a few minutes later, Raphael happens to walk down the hallway and find the two of them enthusiastically kissing against the wall.

And Raphael promptly turns around and goes back the way they came, only stopping at one point to flag down a servant and order them not to let anyone else walk down that particular corridor for at least an hour, hoping that Michael and Adam’s “friendly relations” wouldn’t result in anything too inappropriate.

As it happens, nothing particularly inappropriate happens. Nonetheless, Michael still wakes up the next morning, fully clothed in his own bed, in panic because the first thought to distinctly make its way through the ungodly pain in his head is that he’d taken liberties with a guest the night before. The heir to a foreign power at that, a peer, a hostage! Michael never thought he was capable of something so dishonorable--he’d had Dean pressed up against the wall as if they were a couple of ill-bred urchins, and how does one even go about apologizing for something like that?

(Of course, if Michael were thinking clearly, he might have remembered that Adam had actually been the one to back himself up against the wall, with Michael obligingly following along, quite malleable to whatever positioning Adam wanted so long as Adam kept kissing him.)

Michael’s behavior was beyond unacceptable. If his father hadn’t already abandoned them, he’d likely disown Michael out of pure shame. There was no telling what kind of damage he’d done to the relationship between their kingdoms. At best, Michael’s uncouth actions would be a dirty secret between them in the years to come, after Dean married, and Michael was left barely able to look Dean’s spouse in the eye. If Michael were a lesser noble, his parents might demand he married Dean outright.

And suddenly Michael sat up in bed, realizing he could marry Dean. His mind begins racing, because of course he could marry Dean! It made perfect sense. They enjoyed each other’s company, and with both of them being heir to their respective kingdoms, their union would effectively end the war. It might be complicated—especially given some of the odd customs Dean had introduced to Michael’s court—but marriages had been used to cemented alliances often enough, and the thought of marrying Dean elicited a curiously hot feeling in Michael’s stomach, remembering the way Adam had pulled him close the night before.

(Fun fact, England and France actually did try to do this with the Treaty of Troyes in 1420; it did not go as planned.)

Michael goes through the rest of his day in an uncharacteristically upbeat mindset, because now it all seems to just be a matter of organizing things, and he is good at organizing. He would have to write to either John or Mary Winchester as soon as the situation in their kingdom settled, and formally ask for Dean’s hand, and he and Dean should have a chaperone present at all times moving forward to avoid scandal--though there would be no way to sidestep scandal altogether, of course. Adam was still technically Michael’s prisoner. 

More than likely, the Winchesters or Campbells would demand Michael relinquish his claim to at least half of the territories that they’d spent the last few decades fighting over, but that would be fine. It’s traditional in Michael’s country to give gifts to one’s in-laws, and Dean is a future monarch. Anything too little would be insulting, and all would be consolidated eventually when Dean and Michael assumed their respective thrones. . .

Michael is still walking around delightfully living in his own head when Raphael pulls him into an empty room to discuss what they witnessed the night before. While not the most shocking scenario they could have imagined, they were not expecting to hear their brother announce that he and Dean Winchester would be getting married.

“And how are we to explain away our father’s absence during the proceedings, Michael?”

Michael’s good mood promptly withers. Because of course Chuck would be expected to play some part in arranging his son’s wedding. Ill or not, at the very least, he would be expected to make an appearance at the wedding. To have no part in it at all would be suspicious, not to mention rude.

While Raphael intended to snap Michael back to his senses, they had not meant to shake Michael into an immediate depression. They try for a gentler tone.

“You know, Michael. Our father has been gone for over a decade. He left no formal plans, he's sent no word. By any standard, he's abdicated. Perhaps this isn’t the right time to introduce a political marriage. Perhaps we should consider your assuming the kingship, and then come back around to formalizing your relationship with Dean—”

Michael, of course, is against this. Because their father is alive, and he will come back, and it will not be to find that another one of his sons had greedily tried to usurp the throne.

Seeing Michael about to fall back onto a familiar tangent, Raphael chooses the lesser of two evils and takes the conversation back to “Dean.” They ask which out of the two of them proposed to the other.

Michael abruptly realizes that he's forgotten something.

Meanwhile, Adam starts his morning on a much happier note. His headache is less punishing than Michael’s, and while feeling the normal amount of embarrassment that comes with drinking a little too much, the feeling does not extend to kissing Michael. His mother’s safe, he’s nailing his Dean impression, and Michael apparently likes him. Things could not be better. Until Adam remembers how the latter two items on that list are linked.

Michael is not like a classmate back home, who he could chat up, get a drink with, and maybe start seeing regularly if all things went well. Michael is, in fact, the acting ruler of one of the most powerful countries in the world, which just so happens to be at war with Adam’s, and under the explicit impression that Adam is similarly situated in the world.

Adam promptly begins freaking out.

And then Michael finds him.

Adam’s in the library at the time. Michael walks in and quietly dismisses Adam’s guards, and Kevin, leaving the two of them completely alone. Adam doesn’t realize what Michael’s doing right away, though he’s spent enough time with Michael to recognize how nervous he is as he starts talking about a proposal to end the war—selling the idea, as if Michael wouldn’t be enough on his own—and then sheepishly tapering into the idea that both he and Adam seem to have feelings for one another. And if Adam were able to go back in time and strangle his tipsy past self, he would, because then he wouldn’t have to see the look on Michael’s face when he says no.

And no, Michael does not understand.

Adam can hear years of living in the public eye at work in Michael voice, as he just manages to keep his voice level in asking, “Even if it would mean peace?”

"I'm sorry, I just—I can't."

". . .I see."

Michael excuses himself, and Adam collapses onto a couch, assuring himself that no was the only right answer, and he shouldn’t feel terrible—which, of course, since Adam’s spent the last couple of months flirting with Michael while posing as someone else, is not an easy idea to buy into.

Michael and Adam avoid eye contact at dinner, even as Raphael—who has zero doubts as to who initiated what the night before—practically burns holes into Adam’s skin with the looks they shoot down the table.

And then a messenger comes in. One of the wealthiest duchies in the kingdom (the same one that had once supported Lucifer, and of course would be populated with demon characters in the narrative) has declared its independence, having formed an alliance with the Campbells, and has launched an attack not far from the castle. Several villages have already been attacked along the way. Michael accompanies the armed forces he sends out to quash the uprising.

Raphael is left behind to fortify the castle and take in the refugees, who the messenger assured them are not far behind. Unlike Michael, Raphael rarely saw combat. Officially, it was because Raphael had adamantly insisted on training as a healer rather than a warrior, which was true enough. Unofficially though, Michael and Raphael are both fully aware that if anything happened to Michael, Raphael is the only one left to inherent the crown.

Samandirel and Anael escort Adam back to his room. Samandriel assures Adam that no one thinks he had anything to do with the duchy double crossing them, but it would probably just be safer for Adam to stay out of sight until things calm down. Anael is more closed-lipped about the situation.

From his window, Adam watches the first of the villagers come trickling in, and even from his vantage point he can make out burn wounds, makeshift bandages and hastily thrown together tourniquets, and he’s in hell, because it seems the only two options in front of him are to worry about Michael, or feel absolutely sick with guilt because he’s a trained physician and he should be down there helping.

Finally he pokes his head out into the corridor and asks if someone can find Kevin for him. Anael raises an eyebrow that “Dean,” who’s usually inordinately self-suffice for a prince, is suddenly insisting that he needs to see his manservant, but Samandriel is already helpfully heading down the hall. A few minutes later, Kevin is in Adam’s room, confused, as Adam asks him to take off his clothes.

“You can have mine, just switch with me, okay?”

“Uuh. . . Don’t you think mine will be a little tight on you—”

“Less talk! Strip!”

Michael had probably errored in assigning the same two guards to watch over Adam. After a year, the three of them had gotten to be on fairly familiar terms. Adam waited until Samandriel started to get chatty, and slipped quietly out of his room when Anael was distracted—neither of them having had any reason to think Adam would try to escape, because he had been nothing but compliant since the day he arrived.

From there, he goes straight to the infirmary.

Raphael had set up tents in the courtyard to accommodate the high number of people in need of care. Adam was a year out of practice, but the atmosphere was still familiar to him, and he slipped into the chaos unnoticed. Raphael doesn’t notice him until they are well into the thick of things, and Adam’s as covered in grime and gore as anyone else present. Adam had just gone for more bandages and the two of them nearly ran into each other, and for a split second Adam thinks Raphael just might not recognize him until hand closes around his arm like a vice.

“What exactly are YOU doing here?”

Then Raphael notices the stitches Adam had just finished putting in for his latest patient—and Adam’s stitchwork is immaculate, not the clumsy, half-hazard work of a solider who picked up the mechanics of it over the course of their career.

"YOU did that?"

Adam starts to fumble out an answer, but they are interrupted because then Michael is being brought in. The fighting is over. Raphael and Adam promptly drop everything.

Michael has a concussion. He’s also been lightly stabbed. You know, just lightly. Needs stitches though. Raphael is adamant that Adam leave immediately, but Michael, who is delirious, sees Adam and absolutely refuses to let Raphael send him away. Raphael winds up patching Michael together while Adam—annoyingly, to Raphael—is sat next to him, holding Michael’s hand. Adam winds up sitting next to Michael all night, because it’s the only way to keep Michael from getting up and tearing his stitches like a feverish moron.

Initially, Raphael refuses to leave too, not trusting their brother’s suspiciously competent love interest, whose family was purportedly allied with the traitors who’d just attacked their people. There are still more wounded to tend to, however, and Raphael begrudgingly has to step away—making sure to leave orders that a guard be present in the room the entire time that Raphael is gone.

Little does Raphael know, Adam would have lowkey given a limb to have Raphael stay. Michael’s demeanor is a lot less closed off when he’s feverish and concussed. Shortly after Raphael leaves, Michael starts apologizing for proposing earlier, and Adam feels like he’s been stabbed in the gut. And as he’s lying there, looking at Adam’s hand in his, Michael starts saying things he would not normally blurt out—like that ending the war was not the main reason he wanted to marry Adam, because the last year has been the best he can remember, and it is entirely due to spending time with Adam—even if Adam was only there by obligation—and he would do anything to make Adam happy, even if they weren’t together—and Adam is just stuck there, highkey dying on the inside.

Then Michael sees his face.

"I apologize, you’ve already said you do not want to marry me, I should not have brought this up—”

Michael starts to get out of bed completely unconcerned about his stab wounds, and as Adam’s pushing him back down, the words “That’s not true!” just sort of. . .fly out.

Then Michael’s suddenly looking at Adam, and his face is suddenly very sober, and Adam can feel his own face turning red.

"That is, I. . ." Adam realizes, suddenly, that he’s fucked. Telling Michael the truth is somehow both the right and wrong thing to do at the same time, and Michael is definitely in no condition to hear it either way. “How about, if you still want to marry me when all this is over, then I’ll say yes?”

The next morning is a string of stressful events for Adam. Raphael shooed him out of Michael room at dawn, and Adam went straight back to his own. Kevin, Samandriel, and Anael had all been reprimanded for Adam’s escape, with the latter two being replaced as Adam’s guard under Raphael’s orders. His first interaction with Ishim and Maribel does not bode well for them becoming friends.

When Adam tells Kevin that he’s thinking about coming clean to Michael, Kevin panics. News from the Winchesters had dried up weeks ago, even for Michael and Raphael’s sources. Kevin argues that they’d be better off attempting to escape on their own if the charade was getting to be too much for Adam, especially after last night—but even then, they should wait awhile longer. Why take any chances right now? And Adam doesn’t know how to go about explaining the why. . .

And it gets taken out of his hands anyway, when they step out of the room and find that it’s somehow leaked that Adam and Michael—who had completely misunderstood what Adam meant by “when all this is over”—are engaged.

Kevin doesn’t get another moment alone with Adam to discuss how stupidly dangerous this whole situation is, and Adam, no matter how hard he tries—can’t seem to get a moment alone with his fiancé to try to explain that the situation is not what he thinks it is. Everyone had vastly underestimated how far the rumors about Michael and Adam secretly courting had gone, and Adam can barely take three steps without a noble or courtier or someone pulling him aside to offer their congratulations, and as Adam gets closer to Michael’s chambers, there’s Raphael, circling like a shark and Adam does not want to make his confession to Raphael before he sees Michael.

Come dinner time, Adam finds that his seat had been reassigned. He now sits directly to Michael’s left. He keeps trying to convince Michael to step out into the hall with him for a second, while Raphael, seated in their normal place to Michael’s right, continuously circumvents him, firmly believing that Adam has done more than enough in private.

Then there’s a scream. A servant comes running out into the dining hall, carrying a bloody knife. They run up to Michael—up until the guards step forward to stop her, but she’s not attacking. Instead she hands over the knife and says that she found in the corridor outside the king’s chambers. She had been worried, so she broke protocol and went in. The king’s bed was drenched in blood.

Adam looks over and feels a chill when he recognizes the same knife that had been included in the murder kit he found in his room on day one.

If Raphael had looked up, Adam had no doubt that Raphael would have read something in his face, but they didn’t get the chance to. Michael and Raphael are busy staring at each, the only ones in the room who know beyond any doubt that the implication could not be true, because there had not been anyone in that bed to assassinate in over ten years. Neither of them is given the chance to try to spin the knife’s implications in any direction, however. While the court is still reeling in shocked silence, a guard walks in—completely oblivious—and announces that a messenger has arrived with urgent news.

Adam looks up, and finds he has room to panic more, when he sees Anna Milton walk in, a serving maid in the Winchester court, and as she drops a curtsey to Michael, she identifies herself as one of Raphael’s spies. She had held her place in the Winchester court for as long as she could, but when her real identity had been uncovered she’d had no choice but to flee, and she’s come with monumental news. The civil war across the channel has ended, the Campbells having been forced to seek asylum with their allies outside the kingdom, John Winchester deposed, and Dean Winchester installed on the throne in his place. She had witnessed his coronation herself the very day they identified her.

And Adam feels very cold, as if his blood had actually managed to turn into ice, which would have explained why he couldn’t seem to move, as every eye in the room immediately turns to him.

 And that would be the end of part one.

[harfanfare]

Heart Competition 💕

It is the fifth pint of beer, and there is no sign that it is the last one.

Kaeya stares at the beer, its golden surface waves slightly. His hand is trembling as if the weight of the drink was too much for him. In the reflection of the glass vessel, he sees his face;  eyebrows furrowed by grief or anger – he hasn't figured it out yet – and corners of his mouth twitching, once up, to keep an impression of happy guest, once down, when his muscles refused to obey him.

Being out of control of his own body made him also incapable of flirting, the art he practised years in the bar, that some could assume that Kaeya did it mostly to get on Diluc's nerves.

Oh, right. Diluc Ragnvindr, the star of today's event.

Through a glass pint, half-filled with alcohol, Kaeya sees the distorted silhouettes of the bride and groom, in honor of which this whole party was held.

Loud, quite unexpectedly large for the groom's tastes, the event was a mixture of attempts to make the lady in the veil the happiest woman in the world, but with some balance. This party was also a sign that Diluc won't even consider future marriage offers, having such a sweet wife on his side.

[Name].

[Name] Ragnvindr, from today.

A girl who came to Mondstadt a few years ago and stole the attention of a Cavalry Captain at the first meeting.

At first, it was just another entertainment; he flirted with you, being so natural in this as if it was his personal dialect he used everyday. Well, it wasn't far from wrong. After few minutes the blush couldn't leave your cheeks, leaving your face painted with a rich strawberry scent. He teased you even more until you realised you are too engaged in conversation and cocked your head at the side, trying to hide a blush behind your hair.

And then something went wrong.

You've spent too much time together, and each moment made Kaeya fall in love with you. He didn't know, he doesn't know yet, but his heart started to be blind and slowly started heading towards you every time you smiled at him.

One day he noticed that his heart no longer belonged to him.

If he could turn back time, he would surely try not to fall in love with you. Or he would do everything not to let you meet his not-really-encouraging-to-spend-time-with-and-vice-versa sworn brother.

Really, he could give up taking you to the tavern when he knew that his red-haired relative was right there. At that point, he just felt the need to show you to everyone and wordlessly inform them "she is precious to me, and I will defend her with all my might."

Apparently, Diluc didn't notice the aura of his intentions because he was genuinely interested in a person who would stand up with his brother's quirks („These are secrets," Kaeya corrects every time someone points it out) and without a shadow of a doubt could talk about his disadvantages as advantages.

"You have quite an interesting way of looking at the world," Diluc admitted at one of your random meetings. They happened often; you two even started suspecting each other of tracking each other, but then accepted the fact that whenever any of you will be in a flower shop or going to the library, you will meet the other one on your way there.

"Or I'm pushy because I'm looking for the other bottom in everything," you said, smiling. Diluc also almost smiled in response. "You too, are completely different from Kaeya's descriptions.”

"And... what did he say about me?"

"I'm sorry, but if I told you, you probably would never sell him any alcohol again."

"There, who are you talking about, you two?" Kaeya appeared behind you.

He approached, behaving rather carelessly, though he felt like some invisible force was tightening on his throat. You two looked so good together that with every memory of your view, the needle of jealousy and desperation was sewing through his heart.

And what bothered him the most was the fact that Diluc seemed to like you very much.

Of course, he wanted you two to have a good relationship, but the fact that you spent a lot of time together was very, very, very difficult for him.

Kaeya takes another sip of beer, which this time seems extremely bitter on his tongue. He winces slightly but takes another swallow.

He must have delayed his love confession too much.

A day, no, a few hours would be enough, and everything could've been different. If it weren't for that one evening, when Kaeya decided that he must tell you about his feelings, he would definitely be better without your announcement that you would like him to help you figure out how to confess your love to Diluc.

The heart you've taken from him was broken into pieces. It being overwhelmingly delicate in your hands, was most likely destroyed inadvertently.

...And so, he helped you with your love confession.

After all, he lived with this guy for several years and knew more or less his preferences. Probably, even without his help, Diluc would have accepted your feelings without batting an eye. Kaeya spent a lot of his time watching redhead, and he could tell that these frequent glances towards yourself weren't only a coincidence.

"Only you seem alone in such a grand crowd," says Venti, who sat next to him. Like many other guests, he wears an elegant white shirt with frilly sleeves and black trousers. There is some blush on his cheeks, but even after drinking since the start of the wedding reception, he still manages to look serious.

They haven't talked very often, but as many times they sat together in the tavern and found good drinking companions in each other, they weren't as much of strangers as many could suppose.

"I am being happy for the bride and the groom from a distance," Kaeya replies with harshness in his voice that makes it sound like a growl.

Such a quick excuse could not deceive a poet as skilled in heartbreaking stories as Venti. "I know how losing someone hurts."

Kaeya doesn't ask what he meant. In his head one moment was still playing on repeat; the one when he took you to the altar. He really didn't feel anything, when he was leading you to the groom, who wasn't paying attention to anything but you.

The moment you let go of Kaeya's hand and walked the next steps in that white snow and princess-like gown was the most striking one. With every tap of your heels against the floor, the distance between you two was growing wider.

Kaeya looks at Venti, who rises from his seat and pats him on the shoulder before walking away. He could swear he saw him mouthing “good luck” before disappearing between guests.

It didn't take a minute before you appeared next to Kaeya with a beaming smile on your face.

"Are you having fun?" You ask, and he forces himself to send you a smile, even though for a moment the corners of his mouth trembled uncontrollably.

"Of course," he replies with an eagerness that he tries to raise in himself.

He starts to look for a topic that isn't going to betray his cloudy head. At least not now, when everyone should rejoice for the sake of a new relationship.

His gaze falls on a glass of white wine, which you held in your hands.

"Ah, right," you pick up his gaze. "Diluc chose these wine because he said you somehow recommend that one. He also said they are good for toast."

"Oh? Why don't we raise a toast [Name]?" Kaeya replies, pouring the wine into his glass. He turns to you, now stiffly holding crystal vessel uncomfortably between his fingers.

"What will we raise it for?"

Kaeya cocks his head lightly as if he's trying to come up with a good reason. His gaze wanders to your face, and then he swiftly looks away.

Of course, he knew what he should say in this situation and accept that fact, he wanted to do away with.

"Toast for," He raises a glass, you echo him. A few other guests start to lift their glasses as well. "The bride and her life alongside the man who won the heart competition."

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Alabasta (Part Two)

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

crocodile is one of my favorite villains in one piece for a number of reasons, and one of them is because he’s such a threat, the first real one faced in the grand line and one of the toughest in all of paradise. the villains from the arcs before this, like wapol or the agents from little garden, could barely even land a hit on luffy in actual combat. so crocodile is introduced here as an absolute force of nature, a complete contrast to recent villains and a very tangible threat. 

it’s an impression he very much lives up to later in the arc by crushing luffy not once but twice, which only makes luffy’s ultimate hard-won triumph feel all the better. luffy closes a huge gap over the course of alabasta in order to be able to beat crocodile, and giving us a sense of just how strong he is from the very start gives luffy clawing his way up to that level a lot more weight. 

the successive reveals of luffy’s family never fail to absolutely delight me, because in any other series they would almost certainly feel contrived, but knowing luffy, it is absolutely unsurprising he just never happened to mention his relatives. nobody asked! luffy’s unique brand of honesty is one of my favorite character quirks, because he’s very straightforward and in fact can’t lie for shit, but his priorities are so completely off the wall that he winds up omitting highly relevant information completely by accident. 

ace’s scene in alabasta really does impress me. oda’s said in an sbs that he knew ace’s fate from his introduction, which i find absolutely unsurprising given the intricacy of his story planning. that means he needed ace’s introduction to make him both likable and memorable enough in the space of just a couple chapters that the audience would be engaged when he became the focus of the story a couple hundred chapters on despite barely appearing at all in the intervening time, and he really succeeded. 

kohza is one of my favorite minor characters in the whole series, and i think he’s a big part of why alabasta’s civil war plotline works so well and feels so real. nobody on either side of the war actually wants to fight, but everyone has been driven to such desperation that they feel they have no other choice in order to save their country; and kohza exemplifies that. he's a good person who loves his country a lot, and who genuinely likes and cares about the royal family and vivi especially, and the only option he can see to save alabasta is terrible, but there’s nothing else he can do. 

it’s just fun for me to think about the fact that if crocodile was literally anything other than a very skilled logia, vivi would have ended the whole entire arc right here. 

i really like civil war storylines when they’re well-done, and i think alabasta is one of the best ones i’ve seen in media. most of it is down to what i mentioned earlier, about how nobody on either side actually wants to fight but feels like they have no choice but to. nobody here is actually in the wrong except for crocodile, and so until crocodile is defeated, nothing can be fixed- which is what luffy, of all people, is the one to realize. 

sanji’s mr. prince gambit is probably my single favorite part of alabasta, and i think one of the reasons i like it so much is because he basically beats crocodile at his own game. crocodile is terrifying in battle, but before anything else he’s a manipulator. he’s always working from the shadows, always deceiving people doing what he wants, and sanji manages to turn the tables on him and do the exact same back to him, twice. 

also sanji looks great in glasses

smoker and tashigi both get kind of unfortunately sidelined after this saga, but they’re both really great characters in alabasta. (tashigi especially; i’ll get to her later.) much like the rebel army, they’re good people trying to do the right thing in the tangled mess of tension and politics and resentment that is alabasta- and when that means working with pirates, they’ll buckle down and do it, despite how much it might contradict their worldviews. 

i love when events align in one piece so that people who don’t particularly like the strawhats wind up working with them for some common goal (as seen most prominently in impel down), and smoker and tashigi in alabasta are the first and still one of the best examples of that. 

the entirety of luffy versus crocodile round one is so well done. we’re a hundred and fifty chapters in, and although luffy has struggled in fights before now and then, we get the sense he hasn’t ever really been pushed to the brink, and he’s certainly never lost.

and then he does, completely and absolutely, without ever even landing a hit on his opponent, and it hits like a punch. 

oda seems to be a fan of characters just barely missing each other- the similar panel of robin and olvia running past each other from robin’s flashback comes to mind.

i’ve always liked that of all the strawhats, it’s usopp who gets the first “luffy is going to be king of the pirates” moment. they’ve all said it by the current chapters in wano (with the sole exception of robin, i believe), but usopp said it first, and that feels significant to me. he’s always been the one who feels the least secure in his place on the crew, but even so, he has so much faith in luffy. 

nami’s fight with miss doublefinger is pretty silly in places and i think it gets frequently (understandably, it must be said) overshadowed by zoro’s fight with mr. 1 directly afterwards, but i really like it nonetheless. it’s nami’s first real solo fight in the whole series, and once she finds her feet she kicks ass, and i really like that. it feels like a very satisfying development for her, to stand up and risk her life in direct combat for vivi’s sake. 

we’re now almost a thousand chapters in and its my firm belief that zoro versus mr. 1 is still one of the best fights in the entire series. i definitely think it’s probably zoro’s best fight- only his match with kaku compares. the narrative build over the course of the fight, from zoro struggling just to match mr. 1 (and getting shredded to pieces in the process) to cutting him down in one final stroke, is incredibly cool and satisfying to watch. it feels like a very tangible step forward for zoro in terms of ability, like a massive obstacle has been surmounted and, as he himself says, he’s now stronger for it. 

its also very cool that this is, i believe, the first appearance of what is probably observation haki, though it isn’t named or recognized as such. i’m always endlessly impressed by all the little moments of internal consistency that oda manages to sprinkle into his story. 

there’s barely any dialogue on these entire two pages, from crocodile dropping vivi to luffy and pell swooping in- the story is briefly told entirely through visuals- and i love that. it gives the impression of a single tense, frozen moment as vivi falls, which is then broken in spectacular fashion when luffy catches her. 

i really, really like the progression that runs through all three of luffy’s fights with crocodile. the gap between them goes from being impossible, with luffy unable to even land a hit and crocodile basically toying with him; to surmountable but still huge, with luffy able to land some hits but still outclassed; to finally putting them on basically even ground. and every inch of that growth on luffy’s part is hard-fought and hard-won and well-deserved. 

crocodile’s confidence in his abilities isn’t misplaced- he genuinely is that powerful. but if there’s anything we know about luffy by now, it’s that he doesn’t ever give up. it’s very fun to watch crocodile’s dismissiveness turn into disbelief turn into rage and frustration when luffy just won’t die. 

luffy is, additionally, pretty clearly a better brawler than crocodile (which makes sense, crocodile is clearly used to devastating long-range attacks with his powers while luffy grew up fighting giant wildlife with his bare hands), which means that by the time of their last fight, where they’re just whaling on each other in the catacombs and crocodile is starting to get sloppy and desperate and lose control, if anything it’s luffy who has the upper hand. 

zoro and sanji’s dynamic is always a favorite of mine, and one of the things i like best about them is how perfectly in sync they always manage to be when it comes to things that actually matter, despite fighting like cats and dogs pretty much every other time. i’ll never understand people who think they genuinely aren’t friends. 

tashigi is really good in alabasta, okay. she essentially has her own entire character growth arc. she goes from her stance in loguetown, where she isn’t even tolerant of (fully legal!) bounty hunters, to here, where she’s forced to confront that the world isn’t nearly as black and white as she’s always believed it to be, that sometimes pirates are good and allies of the government are bad, and ultimately makes the right choice to help the strawhats even though it clearly pains and frustrates her that she can’t do anything more herself. 

i’ll be forever mad that her only really significant appearance after this in punk hazard didn’t really live up to what her character deserved. 

i really like how the countdown sequence is done. the tension is ratcheting up and up and up as the clock ticks down in the final seconds, panels cutting all over the city to show all the different characters, everyone who’s caught up in this conflict and everyone who’ll die if the cannon fires-

and then the clock hits zero, and we get this panel that’s just... quiet, after all the madness, as we see how vivi stopped the detonation. i think oda is very good at setting up his pages so they have a flow to them, so no matter how quickly you actually read sometimes things feel like they’re going very fast and all happening at once and then it slows down and gives the reader a chance to breathe, if only to speed up again later. i think oda is really good at pacing in general, really, both on a micro level like this and on a larger scale. 

luffy’s greatest strength isn’t really his strength. he’s strong, absolutely, but that’s not really why he wins the fights he shouldn’t win. he wins because he just doesn’t fucking stay down. his fight with katakuri is probably the best example of this, because katakuri has him beat in pretty much every category except sheer endurance, and there as here, it’s that endurance that winds up getting luffy the win in the end. 

i do love that it’s the rain that ends the war. not the explosion and pell’s sacrifice, not vivi’s pleading, not even luffy kicking crocodile into the stratosphere, but the rain, the thing alabasta’s been missing for too long, the thing crocodile stole, the only thing all these people are fighting over. 

it’s crocodile’s symbolic defeat- at the same moment his power is broken by luffy, the stranglehold of dehydration he’s been using to foment war and rebellion is all at once gone, and he’s left with nothing at all, and alabasta can finally find peace and start to heal again. 

i always love the little moments that show, usually without words, just how much the strawhats love each other, and all of them unanimously waiting until vivi is out of sight to collapse so that she won’t worry, won’t see how ragged they ran themselves for their sake, is definitely one of them. 

i adore vivi’s sendoff, because while its sad she has to go, the certainty that someday they’ll meet again and that even if not they’ll always be crew manages to make this scene endlessly hopeful instead (which, i think, is also a good summary of one piece’s tone as a whole, at least in its more serious moments). luffy never says goodbye, after all, and nobody ever really leaves the strawhat pirates. 

i’m really looking forward to vivi’s re-entry to the story. i really, really want to see her reunion with the strawhats. 

hey look, it’s the panel my profile picture is from! 

the mystery surrounding robin and her past is built up in little ways long before enies lobby, from her harsh reaction when confronted with by tashigi to her aversion to being called by her given name to this flashback, of her talking to cobra about her dream. of them, the latter is my favorite, because i think it’s probably the most sincere she is until enies lobby- which makes sense, given she thinks she’s about to die. 

like many things about robin in alabasta, this gets cast in a new light by her backstory. if she dies here, so too does the entire legacy of ohara- but she’s so beaten down and hopeless that she really doesn’t see any light ahead to strive for. there’s no hope left, for her, and the whole world against her. 

and then there’s luffy, who creates hope everywhere he goes, who makes her live anyways. 

this is a hell of a spread to hook us very effectively right into the sky island saga. it’s a perfect reminder of just how much we still don’t know about all the endless mysteries of the grand line, and just how many adventures are still yet to be had.

[13uswntimagines]

Under the Stars (Mal x Reader)

Request: Mal Pugh imagine where the reader is her childhood best friend but they've never admitted their feelings for each other but it comes out when one of the youngin's start to hit on her when Mal introduces her to the team?

Special Thanks to @literaryhedgehog​

You had known Mal for as long as you could remember, and for as long as Mal could remember you loved stars. You had been obsessed with them since you could walk, so it wasn’t a shock when you had decided to study astronomy. 

It wasn’t often that you and Mal could go stargazing together, with you working at the science center and her being a soccer star, so when she was in town, it had been a no brainer for her to take her friends to see you (Lindsey would argue that staring creepily at a random tour guide wasn’t “seeing” but the ticket lady said you had to finish your 3:00 before you could take them around. You were just too pretty to ignore anyway). 

Mal watched as Lindsey and Rose checked out the coin racing game at the entrance, waiting near the poster that said “tour starts here” for you to show up. She wiped her palms on her jeans, thinking about how long it had been. Was it really three years since you had actually seen her in person? And then she saw you. 

You were walking down the hall talking to your 3:00 tour group. You were walking backwards, of course, telling the group about the regularly scheduled events at the planetarium that they could sign up for. Mal remembered how last time you saw her, you had challenged her to a backwards race, “the first race I have ever won against Mal Pugh.” You were so excited, that Mal didn’t even mind being the designated driver that night (the loser’s prize for the competition), even though it was one of the few chances to go out with friends between seasons. 

“Did you already call dibs, or is she up for grabs?” Emily asked, nudging Mal out of her reverie. 

“First, gross. She’s a person not a seat in the car or the last Oreo. Second, She’s my childhood best friend,” Mal scoffed. Then she elbowed Emily sharply, noticing where her gaze had gone. You were still walking backward, and Emily had noticed. 

“So, single childhood best friend or…?” Emily asked distractedly. 

“You’re not asking her out,” Mal said again, as Lindsey and Rose returned from their game. She tried to say it like Carli said “do it again”, with a tone that allowed no argument. But it came out a bit more defensive. 

“Why? Sonny’s well within her rights. There’s not like a rule against it,” Lindsey bit her lip. Even in that terrible museum polo, you looked hot. 

“I’m with Linds on this on…” Rose shrugged with a smirk, more interested in annoying Mal than anything else. 

“I hate you all,” Mal hissed, turning and moving to stand in front of them, blocking their view of you. Lindsey and Emily each just smiled and took a step to the side, presumably so that their view was no longer blocked. Assholes. 

“Well, I certainly hope you don’t hate me!” Your voice came from directly behind her. 

“Y/N!” Mal cheered, whipping around and throwing her arms over you. You pulled her into an equally tight hug, throwing your arms over her shoulders and pressing your cheek to hers (completely missing the mischievous look the other three women shared). 

“Hey Mal, are you going to introduce us to your lovely friend?” Emily began, in a falsely sweet voice. 

“Or are you just going to keep using her as a teddy bear?” Lindsey finished, quirking her eyebrow up. Mal’s cheeks flamed red. If she didn’t think this tour was going to be interesting before, she knew now. 

****

Mal could already see the headlines now. 3 USWNT players murdered with a model rocket. Or Murder at the museum- the forward who snapped and bashed her teammates with the scale sun. She was going to kill someone if they made another pass at you. 

“So in this display here you can see what is left of a meteor that fell downtown. Now meteors are made of stone or iron, and they typically burn up in the atmosphere. This one must have been very large when it entered earth’s atmosphere because it was still two inches long when it landed on Elm street in 1976.” 

“Well, maybe you’re a meteor then because I’m burning up around you,” Lindsey smirked, bumping your side. You sent a glance Mal’s way, glad to see that she was interested in your many factoids. She seemed way more engaged in the tour than last time, and was listening to every word you exchanged with her friends with rapt attention. 

“No, it’s the earth’s atmosphere that causes the meteor’s to burn. You see the layer of molecules making up the Earth’s mesosphere rub against them, generating heat through the friction generated by the meteor’s speed. I suppose it is a little warm in here though, the next room should be better. It’s the largest model of a rocket west of the Mississippi,” Your hands waved wildly with your excitement. The rocket room was your second favorite in the entire museum. 

“Well I know a thing or two about friction, and I even brought my very large rocket with me. I could show it to you if you want,” Emily saddled up beside you, throwing an arm over your shoulder. You shrugged her off, beginning to walk backwards out of the room. 

“So as you can see, this room was designed to look like a miniature set up of the launch of the Friendship 7, the rocket launch that put John Glenn on the first man-piloted orbit around the Earth.”

“I would love if we could rocket past the friendship orbit” Rose said salaciously, blatantly ignoring the hole Male was staring into her head.

“Oh but it’s a really interesting piece of history, and was actually showcased in the recent film Hidden Figures. The Apollo 11 mission is more famous of course, but the Friendship 7 mission actually was a large part of the space race. The Friendship orbited the earth three times with an autopilot failure, so John Glen had to manually pilot the spacecraft-” you started.

“I could show you how I manually pilot my spacecraft,” Lindsey winked, her lips twitching before she could school her features. Mal glared at her. It wasn’t fair that they were using your obliviousness as entertainment. 

“You have a model too? And it flys?” You asked, mouth agape. Models like that were not cheap, even if you got them secondhand. “That’s not fair. Is it like a USWNT thing?”

“Oh yeah, we women’s soccer stars have some amazing remote control shuttles,”  Rose nodded, somehow able to keep a serious expression. 

 “Mal, why haven’t you ever shown me yours?” Emily suddenly had a ‘coughing fit’ and Rose patted her on the back as they both hid their laughter at your phrasing. You were too busy glaring at Mal to notice. “I thought you were my best friend.” 

“Trust us, she wishes she could, but she’s just too chicken to admit it,” Lindsey mumbled under her breath, but you heard it. Your head snapped in her direction. What was Mal too chicken to admit, that she liked rockets too? What was the worst thing that could happen? You would probably tease her just like she always teased you. 

“Ok, that’s enough,” Mal said, giving the finger to Lindsey out of your line of sight. 

“So I’m kinda confused,” you said, looking at Mal. Wait, was she blushing?

“They’ve been flirting with you to mess with me,” 

“Oh…” Mal cringed at your voice, the way you somehow clipped the word short, but also seemed to fill the silence following it. Your cheeks heated with embarrassment. 

You brought your hand up to rub the back of your neck, as you stared at the suddenly interesting ground. “So, you’ve been listening to me ramble just so you could tease me later about how oblivious I was?” you asked sadly. You had really wanted this to go well. To impress the girl you had been in love with for as long as you could remember, and your geeky interest in space had fucked that up. 

“No, they want to tease me about my massive crush on you,” Mal rolled her eyes, stepping a step towards you and cupping your still red cheeks. 

“How massive?” You asked like a two year old, licking your lips. 

 “Think Jupiter sized.” 

“That is pretty big,” You said, nodding your head thoughtfully, “More than three Earths could fit into its red spot alone.”

“Hmm,” Mal hummed, her lips mysteriously getting closer to yours, even though you hadn’t moved. 

“The gravity machine is in the next room if you three wanna go ahead,” You waved your hand in that direction, never taking your eyes off of Mal. 

You heard Emily whine out a “But this was just starting to get good,” and Lindsey’s responding “Shut up Disani and keep walking.,” 

“Now that they’re gone, I can do something I’ve been waiting to do since we were kids,” Mal’s breath fanned against your lips a second before her skin touched your own. It was slow and sweet and made even more perfect by the fact that you were where you had always loved being with her. Under the stars.

[valley-of-the-lost]

I don't know if you watched BPA, but.. I have a question, that I don't know if you can answer this, but it's been nagging at me (this is a multi-part ask, this will be a quick rundown): A blog that used to be interested in Barbie claimed that BPA has some racist undertones; this is because, as they claimed, due to the antagonist (who has, as they put it, brown skin) tries to take over the kingdom of a white princess/queen. 1/?- Barbie Multiverse Anon

Okay, so, a quick explanation. This ask has been sitting in my inbox for a few days, and I sincerely apologize to Multiverse Anon for making them wait this long for me to weigh in on this. When I received this ask I was neck-deep in part of an art challenge that wore me out and I had not watched BPA (which I assumed was Barbie Princess Adventure) at the time, and I felt that this was the type of ask that I needed to chew on for a couple days and talk to some people before I was certain of my thoughts on it.

Now, I have done some cursory research, watched Barbie Princess Adventure myself, and bounced it off some of my friends for their take as well. Thus I will attempt to answer this to the best of my ability.

I do agree with the unknown blogger in question that Prince Johan is a brown-skinned character, and that the plot has racist implications due to the combination of this, him being the antagonist, and the fact that his kingdom lost a war to Amelia's prior to the plot to drive his motivation hence why Amelia is taking over the rule of both her own and his kingdom. However, I disagree with them that this is an ongoing theme or that there's a pattern of racist undertones in previous Barbie movies. At least from my own knowledge. 

(under a read more because I don’t want to clog people’s dashes, this is not a simple topic to unpack + the movie did some weird things I wanted to explain too)

Before I really delve into the meat of why I take this stance, I want to quickly discuss why I had to even assert that I agreed that Johan is a brown-skinned character as its own point on the off-chance someone else encounters the same initial weird impression I did. You can skip this part if you want, I'll put a triple asterisk where this ends (***).

Prior to watching BPA myself, I did some cursory research on the Barbie Movies wiki, prompted by this ask. I put together that Johan was probably the antagonist that was being referred to, but when I was on his page, his wiki picture was just this.

This was all I had to go off of at this point, because he didn't have a screenshot gallery for me to cross-reference him throughout different points in the movie. So the conclusion I drew at the time was "he just looks like a tan white guy". This impression was reinforced by his light eyes and recycled Ken face model. I cross-referenced this with some friends, and we came to the conclusion that at best he looks racially ambiguous, with no reason to think he was a character of color unless there was other indication about his race in the movie itself.

And then I watched the movie. And changed my mind when I saw what he looked like in these scenes.

Johan looks noticeably darker than he did in his single wiki picture, especially when next to other more obviously white characters like Barbie and Amelia. His skin tone is closer to Alphonso whom I would call a brown character pretty confidently in the same movie (I wanted to minimize comparisons across movies to eliminate the possible different variables that would come with it).

While this might not be as noticeable to other people casually watching the movie, I found this a bit jarring myself because I was focusing on his skin tone in particular due to the subject of the ask and my initial impression from the wiki picture when he was arguably at his lightest in the whole movie, as well as when he was introduced he was at his darkest because it was set at night. Also the way the animation team decided to shade him to convey that its nighttime confused me because he looked a lot darker than I thought someone of what I assumed his skin tone would look. And then the next scene with him and Barbie further confused me, because he suddenly got this reddish undertone that really highlighted their difference in skin color.

(Barbie’s hands are on the left and Johan’s are on the right for sake of direct comparison)

Finally, in his last scenes in the movie, Johan's skin tone is most like that of his wiki picture's. Darker than Barbie's when they stand in the same shot but light enough that he could've passed as a tan white guy. What cemented my confusion is that he still looks like this in the throne room, where he was before when dancing with Barbie so it should reasonably have the same lighting and bring out that reddish undertone, but no he still looks like that. So my final conclusion on him was that since he looks like a brown-skinned character in around 2/3s of his scenes and there's a 2D painting of him in the bg when Barbie and Amelia are kidnapped, that he is indeed a brown-skinned character and the animation department probably fucked up their lighting which messed with how uniform his skin tone looked across scenes. ***

Now that I've explained my process of confusion and then final agreement that Johan is indeed brown-skinned, let's discuss how this compounds with other elements to create a rather unfortunate picture. I'm afraid its a bit worse than Anon described.

First off, the added context of the history between Amelia's kingdom of Floravia and his kingdom of Johanistan. Prior to the movie proper, these two countries fought in a war and Johanistan eventually surrendered to Floravia. The two countries signed a treaty that said that after her coronation, Amelia would rule both Floravia and Johanistan.

There is a severe lack of critical details about the war itself, such as what caused it in the first place, which really works to the film’s disadvantage, since the absence of clarity does little to clear up the questionable implications of what is known about the relationship between Floravia and Johanistan.

Amelia’s kingdom is the one that took over Johan’s initially, since they won the war and Johanistan would be ruled by Floravia’s queen, with the implication being that she’d depose Johan’s family, the original ruling family. While the lack of details makes it so it can’t quite be said that Floravia is colonizing Johanistan, it also means that it can’t be said that Floravia is not colonizing Johanistan. What is known about the war is very broadly reminiscent of tactics white people have used to colonize other countries, such as using a war to depose the original royal family for the colonizer’s own gain (the US colonizing Hawaii by staging a coup against their ruling family because the white plantation owners got mad) and putting the other country in a disadvantageous position with a treaty (Opium Wars). This would probably just be viewed as normal Kingdom vs. Kingdom politics if... well Johan wasn’t a character of color.

Combined with viewing this movie through the lens of real-life racial biases (which people are predisposed to do because we're inherently based in reality), the likely conclusion drawn is that this white ruler (Amelia) is effectively ousting a character of color (Johan) and his family out of power and force-assimilating his country, and there's simply not enough clarity about previous events before the movie takes place to dispel it sufficiently.

This also poisons the plot proper because Johan's motivation is to take advantage of the law that the rule of both kingdoms falls to him if Amelia doesn't show up to coronation and regain rule of his own kingdom and Floravia as a nice plus. The intention was probably to show him as greedy for wanting lone rule of Floravia and Johanistan, taken together, it honestly comes across as the movie villianizing a character of color because he wants to regain sovereignty of his own kingdom from a white ruler. Its completely understandable that Amelia wouldn't want to lose her own kingdom especially coming off of war, but also her kingdom is also the one ousting out the previous royal family of Johanistan without giving any good reason why they can't compromise.

The effect would be somewhat mitigated if another character of color had a similarly prominent role as Johan on the side of Barbie, but there's really not. The closest I'd argue would be Alphonso, but he doesn't have equal plot relevance. This does, in my opinion, make Barbie Princess Adventure's plot give off racist vibes like that unknown blogger said. But I do not agree with them that there's a "pattern" of racist undertones in other Barbie movies.

Due to the lack of details of what exactly they meant by a "pattern" of racist undertones, I am assuming they mean a consistent pattern of racism across the movies, for example the movies consistently dipping into anti-Asian sentiments with their villains, or their plots inherently having racist vibes woven into them like I just talked about in BPA.

Despite the Barbie movies occasionally dipping into offensive territory, in my personal experience I have not observed a pattern of racist undertones or consistent racism targeting a specific group. I acknowledge that I could fully be wrong and a lot of things could have slipped past my notice, especially since I have not seen all the movies, but from the ones I have seen I have not observed a pattern with regards to this. However, I will point out the offensive/iffy things in the movies that I know of, with varying degrees of detail depending on how much I can remember. This is by no means a full compendium of all the problematic stuff Barbie films have touched on but these are the ones I am aware of at present.

Barbie of Swan Lake - Antisemitism. There was a TikTok on this somewhere that discussed this more in detail that I can't find but will link if I do, but what I do remember was Rothbart was given an extremely large nose which is reminiscent of the "Jewish nose" ethnic stereotype. Also there was something about his name and Tchaikovsky himself being antisemitic and those views being reflected in his ballet. I don't remember all the details I'm sorry and google wasn't giving me much.

Barbie in the Princess and the Pauper - Antisemitism. Preminger hits a couple of antisemitic stereotypes in the movie, such as having a noticeably larger, hooked nose compared to the other male characters which is reminiscent of the ethnic stereotype of the "Jewish nose" and being greedy and corrupt (literally mining every singe piece of gold out of the mines) which is a stereotype of Jewish people. His name is also of Jewish origin which by itself wouldn’t be a necessarily suspicious thing but combined with those other tropes it does add up.

Barbie Diaries - Tia, a black woman and also the only one with curly hair in the cast, making an iffy comment about "getting the tangles out of her hair". POC with different hair textures have gotten a lot of racist shit for their hair so even though this is a small oneoff comment seeing Tia talk about her hair like this in a negative manner rubbed some of my friends with curly hair wrong.

Barbie in a Mermaid Tale 2 - Polynesian racism. Another friend of mine who is Hawaiian brought this up in Mermaid Tale 2, when Merliah and co decided to have a luau (which is a traditional Hawaiian party or feast usually accompanied by entertainment) in Australia. My friend found it a bit iffy they were doing this when most everyone is white, but what they found worse was when poi was being served in the luau. Poi is a traditional Polynesian dish, but in the movie they claimed it was an Australian and Hawaiian dish, which its not, there’s no Australia in its origin. And then there was a "gag" where the people eating the poi were gagging on it, so essentially this movie was making a joke out of another culture's aesthetics and food.

Barbie Princess Adventure - Reread the above text.

Maybe my sample size isn’t big enough but I’m not seeing a pattern or a trend here, which in my opinion would be a larger cause for concern because for these movies their issues are largely contained to their specific movie, and a pattern would be indication of a wider problem. Maybe you see a pattern I don’t, that would be completely valid.

Now, do I think this means you can’t enjoy Barbie Princess Adventure? No, I’d be a bit of a hypocrite if I said that because I still enjoy some of the Barbie movies I listed above that I just said also have problematic elements (Swan Lake and Princess and the Pauper specifically). But I do think it is good to at the very least be aware of it, hear it out, keep it in mind. At the same time I understand why people would be turned off by this topic because they’re here to have fun riding the serotonin of childhood nostalgia and not delve into discourse.

But I hope I answered your question to your satisfaction Multiverse Anon! I’m going to go take a nap now I’m tired 😭.

[geekgirles]

Your Heart

Chapter 3 -- Introductions

READ ON AO3

Word Count: 8831

Sleep. Ah, blissful sleep. The Holy Grail Danny had spent his entire high school life looking for, and that still eluded him from time to time. That wonderful feeling when he just collided on his bed after a long day of balancing his secret identity and his civilian one, of ruling over a race whose reputation had earned him the contempt of many, of fighting rebellious spirits...To just let the tiredness wash over and slumber take him was pure bliss. 

Could there be anything more amazing?

At this point Danny’s perfect day had evolved from the amazing activities normal people looked forward to ーgoing to the beach with friends, binge-watching an entire season-worth of episodes in a day, ice skating…ーto the simple joys in life, such as getting a full night’s sleep (maybe even sleeping in, if he was lucky), going to the Nasty Burger with Tucker, and just having a normal day. 

But, as an aggravating sound would remind him, those days were far and in between. 

Twisting around in bed, eyes tightly shut and his face forming a grimace in annoyance, the halfa did everything in his power to ignore that damned noise. Trying hard as he might, there was no turning off the volume of that obnoxious beeping. Giving up, he reached out a hand from under his covers to tap the snooze button.The fucking alarm clock; his worst enemy after Plasmius. And the second most annoyingーthat title belonged to the Box Ghost.

Stifling a yawn with his hand, he got out of bed. Half-heartedly rummaging through his closet, he picked the first thing he could find and went inside his bathroom, having no choice but to start a new day. Once inside, he locked the door and took one look at himself in the mirror, well, as good as a look through sleepy, half-lidded eyes could be. He was greeted by the sight of his ghost form’s nuclear white hair and glowing green eyes. Seeing his reflection, Danny jumped back in surprise, until he remembered the previous day’s events. 

After officially meeting the Witch Queen he decided to crash in his lair in the Ghost Zone, too exhausted to return home.

He attributed not realising it sooner to his chambers’ appearance. Soon after he became the Ghost King, he was instructed to create a lair of his own; to cement his current position as ruler among his subjects, and to have a place where they could go in case they needed his help that wasn’t Fenton Works. Clockwork helpfully pointed out that keeping his secret identity from his parents and the citizens of Amity Park would be considerably more difficult if the ghosts had to look for him around town whenever they needed him. 

It was also Clockwork who gave him the idea of designing his lair taking himself as inspiration. “Try creating something both familiar and completely foreign; such as your own condition.” the Ghost of Time advised wisely, “Combine things that remind you of your human halfーtry not to make it very obvious, while you’re at itー with the sort of elements typical of the Ghost Zone.” 

And hence, he created his lair. 

On the outside it looked like a house belonging to the neighbourhoods he and Tucker grew up in, but on the inside he drew inspiration from Pariah Dark’s castle. Only it wasn’t nearly as frightening, just lavish enough to give the impression that someone powerful resided there. But his favourite room was, without a doubt, his own. An almost exact replica of the one at FentonWorksーthe main difference being that this one had its own bathroom and a few large one-way windows he used to oversee his realmー Danny could feel at ease. And, again, it explained why he hadn’t noticed he wasn’t back on Earth. That, and the sleepiness, of course. 

Shrugging, he summoned the twin circles of light to surround his body, the familiar, chilly sensation running down his spine. Once he was Danny Fenton again, he stripped off the clothes he’d worn the previous day, got into the shower, and got the water running. 

As he showered, his mind raced back to the previous day. In particular, to his meeting with the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park. She was a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma. Even with his alter egos, both of his identities were fairly well-known in the public eye. Danny Fenton was the son of Amity Park’s most notorious ghosthunters, not necessarily for their skill or captured ghosts, but his parents had certainly always been very present around town. With their ghost conferences and pep talks, their field trips searching for ghosts around town, that one time they felt like dressing up like back in the 80’s and embarrassed him and Jazz in the middle of the Nasty Burger just because he’d forgotten his wallet… 

Between his parents, puberty, and his new-found ghost powers, his teenage years sure were a blast...

And speaking of ghost powers, there was Danny Phantom. The ghost boy that one day appeared out of the blue, first seen fighting a giant meat monster. The public menace who once attacked the mayor. The spectral intruder who trashed Axion Labs, got one of its employees fired, and was responsible for the rise of the Red Huntress...who also happened to be his sorta-kinda-maybe-it-was-complicated ex-girlfriend. The young hero who valiantly fought against the terrifying, tyrannical Ghost King and defeated him, saving both worlds in the process...only to be then crowned King of the Ghost Zone himself and ignite the ire and distrust of the town whose respect he had just won not even a week prior. 

The very same Ghost King who was still doing his best, day after day, to protect everyone from the most malicious ghosts who still challenged his rule. But did anyone care? Well, aside from a, thankfully, ever-growing fan club, if the burn he’d received the other day courtesy of none other than Valerie Gray was any indication...Nope. 

Summing up, Danny was fairly well-known. 

But the Witch Queen, on the other hand… The only reason he even knew of her existence or where to find her was because he’d found a few pages of Sojourn’s legendary journal flying around the Ghost Zone while he investigated the cause for the numerous portals opening. According to the wandering ghost’s notes, although there were several covens scattered throughout the globe, one in particular had settled in Amity Park after years of travelling around the colonies, fleeing from an event they called ‘The Great Burning’. Although Danny had no idea what that was, even if it did sound bad, what caught his attention was both their abilities, therefore his idea to ask them for help, and the last place Sojourn saw them before continuing on with his own search. He remembered his own eyes widening at the location. A location he knew from personal experience. 

The fact that his messenger actually delivered the letter was pure luck, though. For all the halfa knew, the witches could’ve left Amity Park in the centuries between Sojourn’s disappearance and his accident.

Reaching his hand to the faucet, he turned off the water. He grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it around his lower half while he used a smaller one to dry his hair off. Then he grabbed his clothes from the floor where he put them and got dressed. Combing his unruly hair with a hand, since he had long given up on doing anything with it, he stared at his, now, fully-dressed human reflection.

He looked the same as his fourteen-year-old self, except for the more defined physique that came with daily ghost fights. At least there were some perks to getting your ass handed to you on a regular basis. The only other thing that changed was his wardrobe. It was still casual, he wasn’t going to start wearing Giorgio Armani suits anytime soon (it’d make him look like Vlad), but more grown-up, too. In his sleep-induced blindness he managed to pick up some decent clothing: a baby blue shirt over a long-sleeved, white undershirt, dark blue jeans, and beat-up red sneakers. Not bad. 

He left the bathroom after brushing his teeth in the sink. Walking down the corridors on his way to the kitchen, his mind went back to his encounter with Lady Arcana. When he became king, Frostbite served as a tutor of sorts. The leader of the Far Frozen made sure he knew everything he would need about the Ghost Zone and its history to be an effective leader. It was because of his lessons that he even knew who Sojourn was! But, most importantly, it was thanks to them that he learned of the existence of witches. 

And what he’d learned about them and what they’d done...it was so horrifying he couldn’t blame the ghosts for having a grudge against them that kept them apart for centuries. Thanks to what he’d read and was told about them, Danny knew what to expect from the spellbinding group of women. 

Witches were scheming, often fooling people into making a deal with the devil (figuratively speaking, that is) in exchange for things their clients would never be able to afford. They were selfish: the Witch Queen herself only cared about what happened to her people, never mind two entire dimensions! Much like Vlad, they only showed interest in a confrontation or making a deal if they had the upper hand. 

Frostbite had every right to be wary of his decision to ask them for help. After all, not only were the witches malicious, they were dangerous. Even if they lacked the standard ghost abilities such as flight, invisibility, and intangibility; their knowledge of magic was enough to give any ghost a hard time. And it was said that the Queen was the most dangerous of them all…

Danny could definitely attest to that. Although he hadn't seen her in action per se, he could feel an inner strength radiating from her the moment they locked eyes. And the way she fiercely fought for her people's safety only proved that. Even if he really found it selfish that she only cared for her people’s sake, Danny had to admit, it made sense, it even made her a good ruler. The only reason he cared about both worlds was because he lived in both worlds. Had he been fully human or fully ghost, deep down he’d only have cared about whatever dimension he belonged to. 

Despite all the red flags and warning signs, there was this part of him who truly believed Lady Arcana (what an odd name) was his only hope. He just hoped that part of him had some kind of clairvoyance and wasn’t just indigestion or something.

“Your Majesty, you’re awake!” A high-pitched voice broke him out of his musings. Looking around, he realised he was in the kitchen and the voice belonged to Dora, his maid. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like to eat, so I made everything I could think of.”

When his eyes landed on the food served on the table, he almost had to do a double-take. She sure went all out… Before him lay a carton of milk, eggs cooked in all ways imaginable (fried, scrambled, boiled, Benedict eggs…), over a dozen toasts, a few jars of different jams, bacon, pancakes, around three boxes of cereal, and an arrangement of fruit and juice.

Mouth watering and eyes as big as the saucers set down on the table, he turned to the ghost maiden, “When did you have time to do all this? Did you even sleep?”

The green-skinned spirit raised a hand to politely cover her mouth, chuckling in amusement. “My Lord, you forget we ghosts don’t sleep. So of course I had time to do this.” She smiled at his flushing face, embarrassment for having forgotten about that apparent on his features. “But, please, don’t trouble yourself with such things, your Majesty. Just sit down and eat.”

He did as he was told before reaching out for a few toasts and strawberry jam. He actually hated toast, but then again, that was probably because the Fenton Toaster always made them way too dry. As Dora poured some coffee on his glass, he spoke up, ignoring he was speaking with his mouth full. “I thought I told you to just call me ‘Danny’”, he swallowed, “We’re friends, Dora, remember? You are under no obligation to treat me as anything but that.”

Princess Dorothea, or Dora, was a ghost he met back in freshman year of high school. The first time they met her magical amulet got him in trouble, since it transformed his former crush into a dragon whenever she got angry. The next time they met, though, was when her asshole of a brother was looking for a bride but, being too out of the loop to try online dating, he forced her to organise a beauty pageant with him as the judge. When he defeated Aragon and freed his kingdom, he also freed Dora, who swore to be his ally after that. And the moment he rose as king, she offered to be his maid. 

“I know, but what can I say? My brother kept our kingdom in the Dark Ages for 1600 years. Old habits die hard, I suppose.” She defended.

“But you have no trouble keeping up with the current time’s peech pattern.” He pointed out.

Dorothea just shrugged in response. 

They stayed in silence for a while after that. While Danny ate his breakfast, Dora cleaned the kitchen. It was usually like that when he stayed in the Ghost Zone long enough to need the kitchen running. Looking at his cellphone, Danny almost spat his food. In an instant, Dora was by his side, making sure he didn’t choke. “Shit! I’m gonna be late!”

With that, he quickly finished his plate with a quick “See ya!” thrown at Dora and transformed, flying around the Ghost Zone until he could make out the Fenton Ghost Portal in the distance. It was still a little early for his parents to be up and running around the lab, so he didn’t have to turn invisible once he reached the lab. Phasing through the ceiling, he was about to make it to the door when the sound of footsteps startled him. 

“Danny? Is that you?” came his mother’s voice. 

Panicking slightly, he dropped the transformation. By the time his parents came down the stairs, he was nervously waiting for them at the door, fully human. “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.” He waved at them with a nervous smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Son.” Jack patted his son, who almost reached his 6’1 height, being 5’9 now, on the back. “Did you sleep well?”

“Um, yeah. Fully rested. And you guys?”

“Oh, you bet, Danno!” the Fenton patriarch exclaimed as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “I dreamed I had that putrid, ectoplasmic apparition of a monarch right where I wanted him; with an ecto-blaster aimed right at his forehead!” Jack boasted, completely ignoring how his son suddenly lost some colour in his face. 

Sipping at her own mug of coffee, Maddie chimed in, “We didn’t hear you last night. Did you come too late from college, sweetie? Did you need anything?”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Although he’d got much better at lying to his parents over the years (a fact he hated), that didn’t mean he felt comfortable doing it. “Yeah, sorry. It was late when I was done studying at the university’s library, but before I could get into my dorm I realised I didn’t have the keys with me.” He explained, hating the way the lie naturally rolled off his tongue. “I came here thinking I must’ve forgotten them the last time I came to visit, but no such luck. Anyway, it was too late to return so I decided to crash. Hope that’s okay with you guys.”

His mother went over to place a kiss on his forehead, mug still in hand. “Don’t be silly, honey. This is your home! You’ll always be welcomed here.”

Jack came to stand beside his wife, a hand resting on her shoulder. “That’s right, Son. We were just a little confused. We didn't hear you coming in, that’s all.”

“Care for some toast?” Maddie offered. 

“No, thanks. I already ate, besides, I’m gonna be late for class.”

“Then don’t let us keep you! See you later, Danno!” Jack said with a wave of his hand at the same time as Maddie said, “Bye, sweetie! Come back soon!” After closing the door behind him, he swiftly hid behind a nearby car to transform before leaping into the air and speeding up towards APU (Amity Park University). He wasn’t lying when he said he was going to be late. 

Besides, he’d promised Tucker he would meet up with him and someone he was dying to introduce him to today. 

...............................

When her alarm clock blared, Sam lazily reached a hand out from her covers to hit the snooze bottom. As the weariness wore off, she arched her back in an attempt to stretch and barely managed to cover her mouth as a yawn came to her. Yanking her red comforter aside, she got up from bed and walked towards her vanity, getting ready to start a new day. 

Flopping down her chair, she hazardly opened her eyes to stare at her reflection. An over-sized Humpty Dumpty t-shirt she used to sleep hanging low from one of her shoulders; her disheveled black hair sticking out in disarray; a clammy, pale face contrasting greatly with the dark circles under her eyes… “Aren’t you a sex symbol, Sam.” She drawled sarcastically. 

Well, things could only get better from there. Walking over her closet, she picked out the clothes she’d be wearing for the day and then got into the shower. Once she was out and dry, she sat back down her vanity chair and picked up her brush. People always said handling straight hair was easier, but they were wrong. Oh, they were so wrong. Untangling her onix mane was a challenge fit of Hercules himself, with all the tugging it required; case on point, whenever Paulina or Star had to work on her hair, they always marveled she wasn’t already bald.

With her hair taken care of, Sam slipped on her favourite tank top, a black one with a purple circle in its centre. Then came her pants; a pair of black shorts that were ripped at the sides she complemented with a white belt sporting a skull-shaped belt buckle. After that she slipped on a pair of thigh-length purple socks and her favourite steel toe combat boots; black with a row of three buckles on each side. When it came to accessorizing, Sam opted for her trademark black choker and bracelets and a purple opera glove on her left arm; Star recommended it, saying, “there’s just something so fashionable about asymmetry.”

Last but not least would be her make-up. Sam went for her usual style; not too over-the-top, but not too bland either. And so, she carefully applied a heavy coat of eyeliner and mascara on her eyelids and lashes, respectively; and her trademark violet lipstick. Now, the only thing left to do was the spell. 

After listening intently and making sure no one was coming, Sam conjured in hushed tones, “Mutatio speciei.” With that, a swirly mist enveloped her head and, where once were her back-length inky locks framing her face, was now a different hairstyle. While the right side of her face remained the same, her left side was shaved with purple undertones, a tiny green ponytail in a purple scrunchie sticking out. Her lavender eyes had been replaced by a pair of hazel ones, and due to her hairdo, the two orbital piercings decorating her lower lobe were visible. 

Satisfied with her look, she stood up from her chair, closed the door behind her, and descended the stairs to her kitchen. Yes, her kitchen. Not the one at the clan’s manor. While the large mansion located at 917 Maple Street, which the citizens of Amity Park believed to be an abandoned townsend place that could be rented for Halloween (they had to get funds from somewhere), served as her coven’s headquarters, training grounds, and shelter, the relatively lavish home in the upper class part of town was when she was raised. 

In fact, every single witch had a house outside of the manor, for it was crucial to keep their identities hidden. Since having purple eyes and ebony hair was a huge giveaway of her real identity, Sam had to perform that one simple shapeshifting spell to make sure nobody ever recognised her. And now that Danny Phantom had seen her face, even if he didn’t know her real identity, all the more reason to be careful. 

After her talk with the king of the Ghost Zone, Sam was almost tempted to think he was someone she could trust. Almost. Even with the explanation of their worlds depending on each other to exist, the Witch Queen still didn’t cross out the possibility of having been lied to. Phantom was known for being capable of anything if it saved the day. And lying to the leader of a tribe of magic users was sure to be nothing for him. 

Even if he’d seen a lot less arrogant than he gave the impression of whenever he battled a rogue ghost, with all those puns and the constant taunting, he acted rather...humble towards her. He didn’t even show signs of animosity until she tested the waters and sneered at his kind. But that didn’t mean she was going to let her guard down around him anytime soon. If there was one thing dating that lying, good-for-nothing, Hungarian wannabe had taught her, it was that when something seemed too good to be true, it usually was. 

After setting a carton of soy milk, a bowl with cereal and an apple down on the kitchen table, she sat down on her chair. Her dad, Jeremy Manson, read the newspaper with a steaming mug of black coffee beside him. Registering movement from the corner of his eyes, he lowered the paper. “Good morning, Sammy. Did you sleep well?”

Sam sent her dad a small smile. “Yes, Dad. How ‘bout you?”

Jeremy lifted a shoulder up, a nonchalant expression on his face. “Oh, you know… Same all, same all. It’s a bit harder to sleep when your mother’s away, planning events. But that’s how it is, isn’t it? While I oversee the company, she takes care of the social gatherings. We’re a great team like that.” He stated proudly.

“Yeah. You sure are…” Sam commented despondently. She didn’t have the heart to see what being married to a witch meant for her dad. Even though Jeremy was a true Manson, being Ida’s only child, the fact that he was a man meant he had little to no affinity to magic, and therefore, he could never be a part of their clan. The closest he got was marrying Pamela, a witch from a lesser family he somehow fell in love with. Neither Sam nor her Grandma put it past her that she’d been purposely hunting him down, since not only was he the Queen’s son, but Ida’s own father had been a successful and wealthy inventor.

Her Grandma often told her the main reason she accepted her mother was because she, somehow, made her dad happy and she’d given her the most wonderful granddaughter anyone could ask for. 

Grandma Ida, on her part, always did her best to show her son how much she loved him, but their circumstances made it very difficult for them to spend time together; especially because Jeremy didn’t even know his mother was a witch. And neither did any other man involved with a woman from their clan, for that matter. 

Being part of a secret, women-only tradition made it very difficult for them to have normal lives. It was imperative that the coven never died, which meant they needed children. There were only two ways of doing so: either a witch went downtown in search of a one-night-stand during her fertile days, or she used her civilian identity to start a family. The latter alternative also meant she’d have to protect herself and her children from a possible betrayal, hence, there was a special spell designed to keep their husbands in the dark when it came to their wives and daughters’ activities. In the worst case scenario, that is to say, that they’d been caught doing something suspicious or even performing magic, their partner was bound to forget all about it. 

That was the reason why her dad thought Pamela was out planning social events for the sake of the company when, half of the time, she was actually in the manor. It was also the reason why he never commented on the way his daughter’s appearance would constantly change in ways it shouldn’t. 

“I like what you’ve done to your hair.” He suddenly said, before taking a gulp of his coffee. “Did you use that new eco-friendly shampoo you wanted to try?”

Sam couldn’t help but smile at the way his father, who was incapable of remembering or realising certain things due to a spell, never failed to realise others. Especially if it concerned her. “Yeah. It’s got passion fruit, blackberries, and I don’t know what else.”

“Well, I like it!”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Jeremy started, giving his daughter his full attention with a soft smile on his face, “since your mother said she’d be busy next Saturday, what do you say we go check out that new vegetarian restaurant you wanted to try out, um?”

Sam’s entire face lit up at that. “Are you serious?”

The blond man chuckled at his daughter’s child-like excitement; it’d been too long since the last time he saw it, “Yes, why not? I’m free that day and you’re always saying how much you want to go. So, what do you say? Do you have any extracurricular activities planned?”

‘Extracurricular activities.’ That was what she and her mother said whenever they talked about her role as the Witch Queen around the house. “I think I’m free, too. Sounds great, Dad.” The young woman smiled at her father warmly.

It was ironic, she couldn’t help but think. Due to all her responsibilities now and growing up, Sam never got to spend much time with her father; she was always near Pamela or her grandma. And yet, she was much closer to him, who actually made an effort to understand and encourage her interests ーespecially if Pamela wasn’t aroundー, than her mother. Then again, perhaps it was precisely because they weren’t together often that she was closer to him. Maybe she’d feel as suffocated around him otherwise. 

After all, wasn’t that what people always said? ‘Distance makes the heart grow fonder’?

“Got any plans for today, Sammy?”

“Oh, you know, same as always. Go to class, pay attention in class, go to the library, my...extracurricular activities,” she coughed nervously at that, “come back home, and repeat.” Taking a bite of her apple, her eyes suddenly widened as she remembered something important. “Shit, I almost forgot! Today I agreed to meet up with a friend and someone he wants to introduce me to!” 

Sam facepalmed herself. How could she have forgotten about that?!

“First of all, language.” Jeremy admonished her lightly. “And second, then I guess your day won’t be the ‘same as always’ after all.” 

The raven-haired girl snorted at her dad’s sense of humour. Dad jokes. They weren’t her cup of tea, preferring witty remarks and dark humour, but they did the trick. Sometimes. “I guess not, Dad.”

“And who’re you meeting up with, kiddo?”

“Oh, my friend Tucker. I don’t think you know him because we mostly hang out at campus. Last week he came to me to ask me for a favour.”

“What sort of favour?” The blond middle-aged man raised an eyebrow, suspicious. 

“He wants to introduce me to a friend of his. Apparently, he’s writing a paper on a subject I know quite a lot of.” She was just surprised there were classes teaching her subject of expertise that she wasn’t already a member of. 

“His friend’s writing a paper on environmental law? Then you probably know them already!” Jeremy stated, setting his newspaper down. 

“Dad, I’m in college, not high school, remember?” She sent him an amused look. “Even in  regular classes there’s tons of people I don’t even know the names of.” Sam was tempted to tell him Tucker’s friend was probably not writing about environmental law, either, but she held her tongue. Better play along. 

“Well, have a nice day anyway, honey.” He pointed at the clock hanging from the wall with a knowing smirk. “You should hurry up, too.”

Following the direction his thumb pointed at, Sam barely held herself back from cursing again. Eating the remaining food in a couple of large bites, she lunged herself out of the house the moment she grabbed her purple, spider-shaped backpack from a nearby chair. Once outside, she slid her arms through the straps before adjusting them. And with that, she ran to the nearest bus stop. 

She couldn’t be late. 

...................

“Did you have fun last night?”

The bespectacled young man watched as his best friend all but threw himself face-first at his bed on the other side of their room. A groan was all he received as a response. With a sigh, he set his tablet down on the table, directing his full attention to the exhausted half-ghost in front of him. “Could you please repeat that? My Groan-ish is a bit rusty.”

With great effort, Danny rose his head from his pillow, shooting a tired glare at Tucker. “Not in the mood, Tuck.”

“I’m gonna take that as a ‘no’”. He said before getting up from his chair to grab a mug and pour Danny some coffee. An intense espresso with no milk or sugar. Just like the dolt was addicted to.

Their room was an average one. Two beds, each on either side of the room; a kitchenette as you opened the door to step inside whose only appliances they used were the fridge and the microwave, both college students being way too dangerous to be trusted with their daily food. Each of them had a little, wooden desk on their respective side to work on projects and study, and in the middle of the room was a modest table where they ate. 

When they first stepped foot in, he and Danny knew the room would undergo some major changesーor as big as the campus’ rules would allow. As time went by, though, only Tucker’s side looked almost identical to his own room back home. But since Danny often ended up crashing in his lair in the Ghost Zone or back at Fenton Works, that was to be expected. Case on point, while Tucker’s side was filled to the brim with screens, computer parts, wires, and the occasional top secret ghost-hunting project; Danny’s only way of telling there’d been some kind of change since they first got the room were his clothes in his drawers, and the occasional space and rock band poster on the wall. Other than that, it couldn’t be any more impersonal.

When he offered the mug to him, Danny snatched it from his hands like a dehydrated man in the middle of the desert would snatch a water bottle. “Correction: I’m gonna take that as ‘rough night doesn’t even begin to cover it.’”

“You have no idea…” Danny said in between gulps of caffeinated goodness. “Remind me again why I thought organising a meeting with the Witch Queen on a Sunday, knowing full well I had several killer classes the next day, was a good idea?”

“Probably because the rest of your week was booked anyway.” Tucker replied offhandedly as he grabbed his chair and got it closer to Danny’s bed. Spinning it around so its back was facing his best friend, he flopped down, a smirk on his face. “Speaking of, how was it? Was the Witch Queen as much of an old troll as we suspected?”

Turning around on his back, Danny rolled his eyes. “I’d wiー” he stopped himself short; one never knew when Desiree was lurking. Clearing his throat, he went on, “I mean, if only. That would’ve made talking to her easier. But, no! She had to be a purple-eyed, hottie brunette!”

Tucker perked up at that. “Wait, she was hot?” A nod from Danny. “Dude, that’s awesome! Wait a minute. Are we talking about Paulina-from-high-school hot, or regular hot?”

“Believe me, there was nothing regular about her.”

“So she was Paulina-from-high-school hot.”

“No, they’re completely different. Lady Arcana ーyeah, that’s her name. Don’t give me that look; I’m not the one who came up with it!ー has the kind of looks that come with a warning sign: ‘you can look, but if you so much as lay a finger on me, you’re dead.’”

“Okay,” Tucker drawled, “So, again, she’s basically Paulina-from-high-school hot.”

Danny shook his head. Tucker wasn’t there, so of course he wouldn’t get it. “No. If you got on her bad side, Paulina would throw the football team at you. Lady Arcana looked like she could kill you with her bare hands.”

The technophiliac tapped his finger against his chin pensively, registering the new information. “I see, so she was drop-dead gorgeous, but in a literal sense.”

“Are her looks all you’re going to fixate on?” Danny asked flatly, before conceding, “But yes, that is a more accurate way to describe her.”

Seeing as his friend was having none of it, Tucker limited himself to raising his palms up in a placating manner. “Sorry, dude. Just trying to dissipate some of the tension coming off of you. Serious talk, now, though. How did it go?”

The blue-eyed young man ran a hand through his jet-black hair, groaning. “Fine, I guess?”

The techno geek frowned. “Fine, you guess? What’s that supposed to mean? Did she or did she not agree to help you?”

“She did.” Danny nodded, but the uneasy expression didn’t leave his face.

Now it was Tucker who wasn’t having none of it. “So? Come on, man! Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing?”

“I don’t know. Frostbite has warned me several times now that asking the witches for help might bite me in the ass...Not with those exact words, of course, but you get the idea.” He elaborated as he repositioned himself on the bed until he was seated on it and facing Tucker. 

“So you’re afraid that might happen now.” Tucker guessed. 

Danny nodded. “But that’s not all. I have the feeling I might have brought this on myself.” Before Tucker could get a word in, the halfa stopped him with a raise of his hand. “I mean, I already knew I’d be risking a potential betrayal the moment I sent that letter butー.” 

“Letters,” Tucker scoffed in disbelief. “In the 21st century. Only for that I already have a feeling I would never get along with one of them.” When he noticed Danny’s withering glare directed at him for interrupting him, the teal-eyed young man smiled sheepishly at him. “Uh, sorry.”

With a roll of his eyes, Danny went on. “As I was saying, I already knew what was on the line when I wrote to her, but I had a plan, you know? If she refused, I’d just have to look for an alternative. But if she didn’t, then I would keep my guard up. But something happened.”

He took Tucker’s silence and his raised eyebrows as a sign to continue. “She agreed to come to the Ghost Zone, she and two other witches came to the Ghost Zoneー.”

“Only two?”

“That’s what I said. Anyways, as I was trying to explain the problem, she basically made it clear that the issue with the portals was none of her business and made her way to the door.”

“None of her business?” Tucker echoed in disbelief. “But of course it’s her business. If there’s a problem in the Ghost Zone, that means the Earth’s next! How could she act like she wants nothing to do with the matter?”

“But that’s just the thing!” Danny pressed. “At first glance, it looked like she didn’t know. After I explained things to her, she seemed far more willing to associate herself with me, albeit very reluctantly.”

What was it with his best friend and never making sense? “Okay, so she accepted. She’s going to help you out. Care to enlighten me in regards to what the problem seems to be?” The techno geek crossed his arms, not following.

“I was getting there!” Danny defended. “The problem is that I was supposed to go on with my life if she said no. Well, she said no, and I practically begged her to help us!”

Okay, that sounded more serious, and not only because it must’ve been a huge blow to Danny’s ego. “Why’d you do that, dude? She’d just given you your ticket out of your,” he paused, thinking better of what he was going to say, “of your second death sentence.”

The halfa just shook his head, groaning. “I don’t know, Tuck. It’s just...One second she was making her leave, and the next there was this voice in my head that panicked. There was this...this...feeling that only she could be of help. So, against all common sense, I stopped her and tried reasoning with her. And now I’m stuck working with a woman who will not hesitate to stab me in the back with her magic wand.”

“Whoa. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was fate and you two are destined to be together.” At Danny’s murderous glare, Tucker burst out laughing. “I..I’m sorry...m-man! It...it’s j-just...t-too good!” He said in between wheezes. 

Danny huffed. “As if! Lady Arcana might be pretty, but she is so not my type. Too brooding, with too many trust issues, and far too willing to kill me for real. The less I have to interact with her, the better.”

Sometime during his rant, he closed his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest as he leaned back on his wall, maybe to drive the point home. When he opened them, though, he found Tucker’s smirking face. The sight unnerved him; that was not what he was expecting to see. “What?”

“Are you sure she’s not your type?” The bespectacled young man asked in a teasing tone. “‘Cause you just described Valerie, and, unless my memory fails me, she was so your type back in high school.”

His smirk only widened at his blue-eyed best friend’s dark scowl. “Shut up, Tuck.”

Tucker threw his arms up in surrender, the teasing grin never leaving his face. “I’m just saying, man. Valerie has been hellbent on vaporising you with her ecto-guns for years and that didn’t stop you from crushing on her and giving her lovesick puppy looks even after she ‘broke up’ with you for the remainder of high school.”

Danny rolled his eyes at the reminder. “Trust me, Tuck. Falling for the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park would be like falling for Vlad.”

They both shuddered at the thought. 

Finally, Tucker decided to let the issue go with a shrug of his shoulders. “Whatever you say. Just don’t forget we’re meeting up with Sam in an hour.”

That took Danny aback. “With whom?”

Exasperated, Tucker rolled his eyes. “Sam.” He repeated. “You know, that friend of mine I met last year in the library? When you told me you might be working with witches to solve the portal problem I arranged for us to hang out together.”

“Okay, now I remember. What I don’t remember, though, is how this ‘Sam’ is going to be of any help.”

“Dude! Sam knows a helluva lot of stuff about the occult! Probably because she’s a Goth…” He added then, as an afterthought. “Trust me, if there’s someone who can help you take whatever the Witch Queen throws at you, that’s her.”

Danny sighed in defeat. It wouldn’t hurt to try. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to be on time for once, would it?”

“No, what would hurt is making Sam wait.”

Suddenly, Danny wasn’t so sure this was a good idea. 

..........................

The You Mocha Me Crazy was one of Amity Park University’s hidden treasures. While most people gathered at the several Starbucks Coffee establishments spread throughout campus, only a few students knew of the Mocha’s existence or gave the quaint café the time of day.

A small store in the outskirts of campus, near the Law building, the café had more than enough to be the perfect place to relax, or hang out with friends. On the right corner of the store was the counter where people asked for their coffees, with a stand dedicated to displaying the day’s assortment of cakes, sweets, and sandwiches. On the left corner, in contrast, lay a small stage, surrounded by several tables and chairs, that was usually used for the café’s weekly Open Mic nights every Friday. On Open Mic night customers could do basically anything; read their poetry aloud, organise gigs for their bands, try some stand-up comedy… Anything, really. There weren’t organised events for each different artistic approach because the shop was well aware of its obscure status; they didn’t want to attract too much attention. 

Summing up, the You Mocha Me Crazy screamed individuality and integrity, which was why Sam was hopelessly in love with the place. The fact that it also had a varied, high quality vegan menu didn’t hurt, either. 

“Hi, Sam! Same as usual?” Robert, the barista that was usually manning the counter when Sam went to the café, asked her once it was her turn to order. 

“Actually, I’ll start with just a macchiato with soy milk. I’m actually introducing this place to someone and I wouldn’t like to have already ordered without them here.” Sam corrected gently, smiling at him. 

“You’re meeting up with someone?” The barista’s eyebrows raised in surprise as he hit the code into the cashier. “Have you found yourself a boyfriend this past week I haven’t seen you around?” He teased her goodnaturedly. 

The hazel-eyed witch shook her head slowly with a small smile on her face. “Nah, I’ve been way too busy.” That wasn’t a lie. “Besides, you already know dating is the last thing on my mind at the moment.” That wasn’t a lie, either. “A friend of a friend of mine needs help writing a paper, so we’re going to meet up.”

“Yeah, that makes more sense. I mean, you made it pretty clear that you weren’t looking for a boyfriend when you turned me down.” Robert pouted. For a moment, Sam was worried he might still be hurt over it, but his teasing wink soon put her mind at ease. 

She felt comfortable enough to joke around a bit herself. “Oh, please! You say the craziest things, Robert. As if I could ever choose somebody else over you; where would I get free coffee then?”

With an amused expression, the young man set her order down on the counter. “Here you go, Sam. Enjoy!”

Taking her drink, she threw him a quick, “I will, thanks!” and a generous tip as she made her way to a three chair table. Sitting down, she brought her laptop out of her backpack to work on her latest assignment to kill some time as she waited for Tucker and his friend to arrive, taking gulps of her drink now and then. 

Her friendship with Tucker was an odd one. And by odd she meant they couldn’t be more different, they couldn’t have met in any weirder circumstances, and they couldn’t get along any better. 

Sam met Tucker the previous year, during finals. She was busy studying at the library for her Law and Policy of Climate Change exam when this guy approached her. 

He was an African American man around her age. Though he wasn’t what most people would identify as an Adonis, he wasn’t hard on the eyes, either, just...not necessarily Sam’s type. He wore thick-framed glasses, a white dress shirt under a mustard vest, fern green pants, black dress shoes, and a worn-off, red beret. 

What truly was odd about their first meeting was that Tucker had tried to hit on her, and Sam didn’t even try to break his arm! When she told Paulina and Star about it the next day, the Latina was crying tears of joy while her blonde counterpart made sure their queen didn’t have a fever. 

She had to stop him in his tracks the moment he tried setting up a date with her in a nearby grill. At the mere mention of her being ultra-recyclo-vegetarian, he immediately lost all interest. Despite everything, though, they started talking and, even if they couldn’t be more different ーTucker was majoring in engineering with a minor in computer science, Sam studied environmental law; Tucker was a bigger carnivore than a Tyrannosaurus Rex, Sam didn’t eat anything with a face; Tucker believed in progress through technology, Sam was all about an ecological agenda…ーthey hit it off just fine. After that day, they often texted each other or hung out around campus. 

Today, however, was the first time she’d be meeting his famous best friend and roommate; Danny. 

Sam was woken up from her reverie by the chime of the door’s bell. Looking up, she noticed Tucker, who happened to be wearing the very same outfit from the day they met, and a guy who happened to tower over him. Oh, great! She was going to be surrounded by giants! 

Once they stepped foot inside the café Sam had told him to go to, which had to be on the edge separating Earth from the Ghost Zone, judging by how far from the dorms it was; Tucker looked around until he spotted a purple, gloved hand waving at him. There she was. Nudging at Danny with his shoulder, he pointed at the table where Sam was at before waving at her himself and making their way over.

Taking a good look at who she guessed was Danny, Sam had to admit, he looked kinda cute. With his unkempt jet-black hair that was either natural or a product of countless hours styling it in front of the mirror; the defined lines of his body, the awkwards yet somewhat assured way he carried himself… 

The moment they made it to her table she got up. “Took you guys long enough. Did you have trouble finding the place?” She said as she pulled Tucker in for a hug. Normally she wasn’t one for physical affection, but she hadn’t seen him in over a month, so it wouldn’t kill her to be a bit more affectionate for once.

“Well, we would’ve arrived sooner if you’d told us this place exists in its own place of existence.” Tucker rolled his eyes as he broke the hug, his hands resting on her forearms. “I think coming here should qualify as physical exercise; my high school gym teacher would be so proud!” He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye in mock nostalgia. 

While Sam rolled her eyes with a knowing smile on her face, she noticed Tucker’s friend chuckling beside him. “Please, Tuck...Knowing Tetslaff, she wouldn’t be proud unless you came here riding a monocycle at the same time as you juggle snakes.”

“Sad but true.”

“You must be Danny,” Sam addressed him for the first time since they entered the café. She held out her hand for him to shake, “Tucker has told me a lot about you.” 

“Should I be worried?” Danny joked with a small grin as he took her hand. 

The moment their hands touched, however, a familiar sensation ran through their spines. There was something familiar about the, seemingly, natural cold radiating from Danny’s body; and an unexplainable wave of heat coursed through his body the moment he touched Sam’s skin. 

Now that he took a closer look, there was something familiar about her as a whole. As if they’d already met. Which was strange, because he was sure he’d never be able to forget a girl with a look as unique as Sam’s. 

Before he could ask her, however, Sam beat him to it. “Have I met you before? ‘Cause you look really familiar…”

Somehow, that made more sense. With an uneasy smile, Danny tried to will the embarrassed blush creeping up on his face in line. “My name’s Danny Fenton. The Fentons, the ghost-hunters, are my parents. They...appear on TV often.” Although, in their case, it’s never something to brag about, he thought to himself.

Understanding seemed to dawn on her, for she exclaimed. “Oh, that must be it! Well, Danny, I’m Sam. Sam Manson.”

“As in Samantha?” Danny was immediately confused when Sam’s lazy grin morphed itself into a nasty frown. 

“Yes. But call me anything other than Sam and I will bury you six feet under.” Something about the way she said it made him understand she would keep good on her threat. Why was he only meeting dangerous girls lately?

Looking down at their still intertwined hands, an impish grin on his face, Tucker thought it was the perfect time to intervene. “If you guys are done memorising each other’s footprints through physical contact, I’m starving.” He turned to wait in line. “Come on, Sam. You promised this place had food that’s not necessarily green and leafy.”

Looking down themselves and realising they were still shaking hands, the two young adults snatched them away, as if they’d been burned, muttering awkward apologies to each other. 

“Yeah, come on...Let me show you what they have.”

As the three waited in line, Danny cleared his throat to get Sam’s attention in an effort to alleviate the sudden tension Tucker’s comment had caused. “Just so you know, I’m not here because I wanted Tucker’s help at picking up girls; I really need your help writing this paper. The topic is a bit hard to find in a school library and Tucker said you really know your stuff, so…”

Sam could only snort at his awkwardness. There was something endearing about his dorkiness, not like she’d ever admit it, though. She meant it when she said she wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. Besides, cute dork or not, Danny was too...normal, for her taste. “Oh, relax. I know that already. I wasn’t suspecting you of having ulterior motives; don’t worry.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I mean, do you seriously expect me to believe anyone would ask Tucker for help when it comes to picking up girls?” Putting a hand on her hip, she couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. “Please, I’m more popular with the ladies than he is.”

“You don’t say.” A devilish grin made its way to Danny’s face, who was looking at Tucker with what could only be described as endless mischief.

Having heard Sam’s uncalled for comment and sensing Danny’s unforgiving eyes burning a hole on his head, Tucker huffed, crossing his arms indignantly. “Okay, okay! That one cute girl did give you her number instead of me. But I’m not going to complain about not being dating material to a cute lesbian; that’s pitiful.”

“Actually...she was bi.” Sam corrected him, almost doubling over in laughter at the sight of Tucker’s eyes comically snapping open. By her side, Danny was doing a poor job trying to stifle his own snickers. “She just wasn’t into you.”

Under Tucker’s withering glare, Danny cleared his throat in an attempt to appear nonchalant. Once he got his laughter under control, he turned to Sam. “Oh, you’re comfortable enough to make jokes at Tucker’s expense! Either you two are good friends...or you two literally just met.”

Turning away from them in an indignant huff, Tucker muttered. “Introducing you two to each other has been a terrible mistake.”

Neither could help bursting out laughing at their friend’s comment. Sharing mischievous smiles, eyes twinkling in amusement, Danny and Sam stared at each other. Maybe they weren’t each other’s first choice for company, but something told them something good would come out of that coffee date, even if it wasn’t really a coffee date since, well, they weren’t looking for a partner in each other. But, hey, they both could use a new friend. 

[crystalrose555]

Don't make me slap you pt 20

Oh boy, this one’s a long noodle~

“How about this one?”

“No.” “Ok, this one?” “No.”

“Levi, why did you bother tagging along if you are just going to turn down every outfit?”

“Because I still think that Marley shouldn’t go. She should stay home with me.”

“Over my dead body, Levi. This is one of the biggest parties of the year, anyone who's anyone is going to be there and Mochi and I are going to be stunning together~” Levi groaned as he looked around Majolish, seeing the vast amount of customers looking for clothing and outfits for the upcoming event. Meanwhile, Marley sighed as she placed clothing back on the rack and turned to the brothers.

“Yeah, I don’t think this is going to work. You demons sure are long, have any of you heard of the terms ‘plus and petite’?”

“See? Look, it’s fate, Marley and I are just going to stay home and marathon The Magical Ruri Hanai: Demon Girl.” Levi sharply proclaimed with a triumphant smile on his face.

Asmo gave a flat look at Levi before turning to Marley with a beaming smile.

“Mochi honey, why don’t we ask Levi to make your outfit?” Levi nearly choked on air as he realized what was happening.

“Wait, Levi, you know how to sew clothing?”

“Y-yeah, I just sew together cosplays and stuff, it’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a pretty big deal to me, all I can are patch-up jobs. It’s really impressive.” Marley smiled at the nervous demon.

Levi’s face quickly heated up as a crooked smile formed across his face. Asmo, seeing his brother falling for his bait, turned and held Marley close, sealing the deal.

“Don’t worry, Mochi, I’ll design something beautiful for you so that you don’t look like a costume disaster~”

“Like hell, normie! For your information, I’ve done custom requests that have won many cosplay competitions, so I can make something that will look great on her!”

“Oh really, then I assume you won’t need any help with Mochi’s measurements~”

“Her m-measurements?” Levi stammered out.

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

“Alright, make sure you are all on your best behavior. This may be a party but I don’t want an incident like last time, do you hear me?”

“Oi, why are you starin’ at me when you say that?” “Because you are usually the first one to cause trouble.”

Lucifer sighed as he took a good look at his brothers in their polished demon forms. Surely, there will be a day when they would be able to carry themselves like proper lords of Devildom but sadly this party wasn’t one of them. He peered through his fingers and took a glance down to see a grumpy Marley who had a purple bow on top of her head for the occasion. He smirked at the sight and took his leave, disappearing into the crowd to go to Diavolo’s side in the far distance. His brothers took a sigh of relief while Marley tried to scratch off the stubborn accessory.

“It’s no use, Mochi. It’s enchanted to stay on during the party.” Satan declared while stroking his chin.

She just snorted at him, flipped on her back, and flailed about wildly on the floor. Spectators stared and giggled at the fuzzy animal flopping on the marble, leaving the demon brothers looking away in embarrassment. In a haste, Mammon squatted down to her while his brothers tried to block some of the gazes.

“Hey, it ain’t comin’ off, so quit flippin’ out like a fuckin’ tuna!” He barked.

Marley stopped and barked back at Mammon’s face, causing him to fall back on his bottom. At that exact time, Asmo turned up his natural charm and drew the eyes of all the spectators to his form. Satan sighed and gave a slight nod to Beel who then picked up the irritated seal and quickly walked off with her slapping against his forearm in annoyance.

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

Levi paced back and forth in a less crowded spot in the grand hall while Satan and Mammon stared at him in disapproval.

“Levi, will you stop? You’re going to wear out the floor at that rate.” Satan pointed out.

“Why am I the only one who’s worried? This is a major story event and it always gets crazy during story events!”

“Can you translate? I don’t speak nerd.” Mammon jeered.

“I’m saying something already went wrong! She shouldn’t need this long to shed her skin, she was dressed back at the house!” “Hmm, maybe that bow had a stronger effect than we thought.” Satan contemplated.

“Naw, that ain’t it, take a look.”

Suddenly, Mammon pointed in the distance, drawing his brothers’ attention to Asmo leading Marley to the opposite side of the room.

“That dirty double-crossing normie!” Levi hissed as he slithered through the crowd, leaving Satan and Mammon to follow.

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

“Isn’t she the cutest when she’s next to me?” Asmo chimed as he held Marley tightly while showing her off.

Simeon and Solomon chuckled while Luke and Marley shared a sigh from Asmo’s enthusiasm of showing her off as much as possible. 

“Yes, she’s very lovely, Asmo, but maybe you would like to let your friend breathe on her own.” Simeon gently suggested.

Pouting, Asmo released Marley from his grip and then latched onto Solomon’s arm. Marley straightened up and gently straightened her outfit with a sigh of relief while everyone else gave into soft laughter.

“But truthfully, you look astonishing tonight, Marley. I take it that Asmo designed it himself?” Simeon pointed out.

Marley looked down at herself with slight embarrassment before answering.

“Levi and Asmo made it for me when we couldn’t find anything on the rack. I have to say that when I heard about a party, I wasn’t expecting this.” She claimed while looking around at the extravagant hall.

“Hmph, I guess demons can throw a pretty decent party once in a while.” Luke snarked. 

“Luke, don’t be rude, besides you’ve been eating everything from the desserts since we’ve got here.”

“Only for research! Besides, I wanted to see Mochi again since I can barely find her at school.” Luke stammered out with a red face.

“You really like Mochi, don’t you, Luke?” Simeon teased.

Luke turned his head with a hmph and rushed over to the dessert spread in the distance. Simeon shook his head and followed after him, leaving Marley alone with Asmo and Solomon chuckling. The music picked up and swelled as demons began to swarm the dance floor in couples. 

“Marley, any chance I can have your first dance?” Solomon asked with a smile.

Marley tilted her head gently to the side.

“I guess so but I don’t know how to waltz.”

“Don’t worry, Solomon is a great dancer, Marley. I’m leaving you in good hands, so have fun~”

With that, Asmo left the duo alone to attend to his admirers. Taking his hand, Marley followed Solomon to the dance floor and slowly joined the musical current that had trapped all the dancers. 

“See, you’re a natural Marley.”

“Really? I was worried I wouldn’t be able to keep up.” “I don’t think that’s what you’re really worried about. You’re worried that someone will recognize you from school, am I right? It would be bad for anyone to realize that you party-crashed this event.”

“I guess you got me there, but Levi and Asmo placed an enchantment on my dress to make me unrecognizable to everyone here unless I reveal myself to them.”

“I remember that spell, Asmo had me develop it so he could see what people say about him but that only lasted an hour or so before he wanted attention again.” He sighed causing Marley to chuckle.

“I have to admit, I’m having more fun dancing than I thought.” “I’m glad, it’s a lot easier to waltz on two feet than four flippers, huh?” “Yea-”

Marley’s mouth snapped shut as she shot a sharp glare on the white-haired sorcerer who smiled carelessly. Her grip tightened into a vice as cold air radiated from her body. Ice crystals started to form on Solomon’s shoulder as she dug her nails in.

“Easy, easy, that spell won’t last if you cause a scene,” Solomon warned with a smile.

Marley turned her head away from him, her eyes glanced over coldly.

“Come now, don’t give me the cold shoulder. I finally got a chance to talk to you. ” He chuckled.

“...How?”

“I had a bit of a feeling since seals aren’t common as witch familiars but Asmo confirmed my suspicions.”

Marley’s icy gaze returned along with her biting cold.

“Don’t be mad at Asmo, he had the best intentions. You want to go home, right? I’m surprised you lasted so long without returning to the sea but I guess hanging out with Leviathan has its advantages.”

The duo continued to dance and swirl while Marley remained silent.

“...What do you want then? There’s no reason for you to help me and you don’t seem the type to completely give in to Asmo.”

Solomon offered a warm smile in return.

“I just want a chance to talk with you, I’ve always wanted to meet a selkie. Your people are such rare creatures and whenever I find one, they always turn back into a seal and swim away.”

“Are you sure it isn’t the fact you’re a shady magician?”

“Come on, now that’s mean! ”Solomon laughed out hardily as they continued to spin.

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.29}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 3.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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The very moment Robin was back inside the castle, every possible doubt about what she was about to do had vanished entirely if it had ever been existent in the first place. On her haste down into the dungeons, people jumped out of her path at the mere sight of the sinister expression on her face, and honestly, she was more grateful than ever that nobody dared to as much as look at her for too long. Sometimes a reputation was a curse, sometimes a saving grace. Right now the latter was the case.

She didn't say a single word when she opened the door to the potions classroom in one swift move. Still stayed silent when she made her way through the rows of desks and students, straight to the front where Snape was working at his desk like always during detention. She didn't need to say a thing, and yet all eyes were on her in an instant. The students' many ones in surprise and nigh intimidation at her mode of entrance, Snape's merely in instant concern. He knew that she wouldn't just show up here, bursting into detention if it wasn't for a matter of utmost importance. So she only looked at him in silent confirmation of what they both knew was happening right now.

"Detention is over. Get out. Now." Snape spoke up with a brief glimpse at his students, in a tone to match Robin's grave expression. Then however his eyes found and never left hers as he rose to his feet in an instant to round the table to come over to her side as if the rest of the world beyond them simply ceased to exist.

"But professor, it's still over an hour until dinner… Are you sure we're allowed to go already?" A young boy, probably a first year, remarked carefully, which earned him a few groans and curses from his peers, and an instantaneous but deathly glare from Snape.

"Question me again and you will spend the entire remainder of this term in detention." He snapped at the boy, then turned to everyone else who had stopped in their tracks or not yet started moving in the first place. "What on earth are you waiting for?! Is there a part of 'get out' you dunderheads failed to understand?"

It took exactly five seconds for the students to rush out the door while the echo of his words still ghosted through the masses of stone. Then, in the very instant the last people had left, the door to the classroom flew shut, was locked and warded in a now long practiced procedure that, to Robin's knowledge, was yet unbreakable. Ever since new year's, they had become more careful with their every step for a multitude of reasons. Morgan being one of them.

"What on earth-..." Snape didn't get further than that before Robin had dropped her backpack and winter robes on the ground and wrapped her arms around him so tightly that her muscles started quivering, urged into this impulsive need for closeness by the sudden and sheer overwhelming realization that she had come way too close to never seeing him again. In the end, it was a gift of fate that they were still here, still together. This thought as well as the hot rush of welling tears it brought along was only quenched when he held her tightly in return, and her composure collapsed once and for all.

Sure, there were more important things to be dealt with right now and Robin had promised herself not to let her emotions get in the way of that, but she couldn't help it anymore. Repression and putting on acts for her own mind only worked for so long. And thus she let herself dwell in his embrace for now, clawing onto him like a lifeline of reality, basking in the comfort and safety she needed now more than ever. The world could wait. It had to.

"Whatever it is, we will be fine." He said after a while of drawing soft patterns on her back, and Robin almost had to smile. She had never told him just how soothing she found that gesture, nor his voice and words of encouragement, but somehow he still had always known anyway. There was no measure for how much she loved him for that, for just knowing. "May I see for myself?"

"Please do. I couldn't logically explain what happened anyway, not even if I tried." She sighed in return without even having to ask what he meant, and then waited for his presence in her mind as she had felt it so often before. It was a truly pleasant procedure at this point, like a gentle caress, like the patterns on her back. And therefore sharing her memories of what had happened brought an immediate and breathtaking relief to her troubled mind as much as his presence did to her soul. The panic faded, the anxiety and sickness made way for reason and even a strong sense of safety. She might not need him to protect her… but she still was more than glad to know that he wouldn't let anything stop him from doing so anyway.

For a while longer neither of them spoke, even once he had seen all there was, all there had been. His hold on her only tightened, and moments later the scratch on her eyebrow started tingling with the warm echo of magic. Perhaps she should ask him to teach her some of those miraculous healing spells… If fights over life and death were to become a normal occurrence in her days now, it might yet prove useful to have some of his tricks up her own sleeves as well. But that would have to wait; for now, she had to get over herself and deal with the more pressing issues. With a deep breath, she pulled back when she finally felt ready to face the world and the worries it brought at last. They could do this. Together, like always.

In the following minutes it in return took Robin quite a bit of convincing to remind Snape that, one, she had won the fight and had come out more or less fine after all, only cold and bruised, and two, that they had agreed that killing Morgan was still not an option. No matter how very tempting the idea was under the current circumstances. Robin did agree with one point though, when Snape said that if it ever came to a moment where it was either Morgan's or Robin's life, he wouldn't waste a second of thought to save her no matter what might be the cost in return. She did agree, even though she knew that it had never been meant as a question in the first place.

Indeed, the thought made Robin smile. He would gladly set the world and skies on fire for her if the opportunity should come, without a single doubt or hesitation, and while that thought should have been at least somehow disconcerting, the unshakable fact only made Robin feel ineffably proud. There had never been such a thing as 'normal' when it came to him and her… They had always been living by extremes. Living through passion for life. And in that intensity, in the way they lived and were going to live, she found her fear replaced by determination.

"I believe to have a lead on Morgan's reasons, to find out what this is all about. A start." She said, and was met with the most attentive, intrigued gaze in return. "Or at least I finally have an idea where to look for one."

"Other than his sheer insanity being reason enough, you mean?"

"Actually, I'm rather sure that he is quite as sane as you and I." Robin sighed, while a half smile found its way onto her lips nonetheless. "But no matter what he is or isn't, we will find out what makes him do what he does and we will put an end to it. In a different way than by killing him. A better one."

"You're terribly rational. As always." Snape replied in a huff, and yet let his fingers trace the outside of her hand in a feathery touch to replace some of the past embrace's comfort. It was remarkable how much better he had gotten with such simple signs of affection over the last few months, even if still ever so subtle. "I wish I had your level of optimism."

"I'm not optimistic, but realistic." Her half smile turned into a full one as she took the opportunity to interlace their fingers in return. "This mess with Morgan has been going on for almost seven years now, and I need it to end on my terms before it ends on his. We have to see to it that it does, and we will."

"Tell me more about your lead then; I must say that neither his words nor your thoughts on the matter made much sense to me."

"They didn't make sense to me either, until I went shopping with Cas and Jorien."

"You almost died, and then you went shopping right after that instead of coming straight back here?"

"Yes?"

"You hate shopping. And you almost died."

"Yes…?"

"I am honestly not sure if I should be impressed or irritated. You really are perfectly impossible."

"Why, thank you!" Robin had to smirk upon his incredulous expression, but soon enough her thoughts and expression went back to business as she tried to put the mess of thoughts into a stringent sentence. "To be honest, I just went shopping because I didn't want to let the girls down, and I hoped it would bring me some diversion from the events I did not even nearly understand at that point. But it was Morgan's words that made me think, and even throughout the hour where I tried to focus on other matters, they never quite left me alone no matter what. To make it short, I have an idea what he could've meant with some of what he said. The part about looking at my being but not me, the earrings and also comparing me to some other person who is me and not me at the same time."

"And?"

"The painting in the room of hidden things." Robin finally got out the very core of her thoughts, of her suspicion, and it didn't take more than that for Snape's mind to visibly halt at her words. "We have to find it and see if the woman who looks like me has earrings or not. Because then Morgan's comments-..."

"Would suddenly make a disconcerting amount of sense." He finished the sentence for her with a deep frown as his thoughts finally caught up with hers. "It still doesn't explain why he does what he does, but it certainly is a starting point indeed."

"The best lead we've ever had. And the only one."

"Then we cannot wait any longer." His tone went from considering to beyond determined. "We should be able to get up to the seventh floor unseen even at the present time, if we make use of the hidden paths in the castle."

"Lead the way then." Robin said with a small but sincere smile, then gave Snape's hand a gentle squeeze and finally let go to take her robes and bag to his office for safekeeping. The classroom was a mere shed in comparison to the fortress of spells that surrounded the office these days, and if today had proven anything to her, it was that she couldn't be careful enough. Not even with her belongings. After all, objects could be cursed just the same, and do perhaps even more damage than a simple one-time spell. She wasn't keen on finding out just how much more.

… … …

They made their way up to the correct seventh floor hallway in a matter of minutes, unseen in the rising darkness of the castle, and it again took only a minute and an illusionment charm to summon the grand door to the room of hidden things. The extraordinary place didn't fail to fascinate Robin even now upon their entrance, and she inevitably had to think back to the last time she had been here. The only time, to be exact, because she hadn't dared returning alone. A lot of things had been easier back then… But she wouldn't want to go back for anything in the world. She couldn't even bear the thought of going back to the torture that was loving from afar.

"Do you remember where the portrait was located?" Snape asked once he had closed the heavy door behind them, and broke Robin out of her marveling and memories. Yes, this reality was far better, no matter what.

"I, uh… I was rather distracted the last time we were in here." She admitted with a small shrug, which made him raise an eyebrow at her. Robin rolled her eyes in return. "I was trying not to jump at you for how close you kept coming to me, if you have to know. So no, I don't remember the path to the portrait."

"Pity." He sighed in feigned disappointment, then merely took her hand again and started walking off in absolute certainty where to go while pulling her along. Of course he knew where the portrait was… Robin had to smile against her will as she couldn't help rolling her eyes again. Insufferable idiot. Her idiot.

In a matter of minutes they reached the mountain of objects Robin very much recognized as the place she had discovered the portrait in nonetheless. The flipped chairs, the pile of pink teacups, the bucket filled with yellowed scrolls. Yes, this was the right spot indeed. But there was no painting anywhere in sight.

"It's gone…" Robin wondered out loud, brows furrowed and the hairs in her neck standing on edge. She hadn't quite considered that people other than them had access to this place as well… other people who might not have her best interest in mind, with the portrait or not. Or who came in here not to hide something, but to hide something that already was in here. The thought made her shudder.

"I can see that." Snape replied flatly, with very much the same irritation colouring his features and occupying his mind. His concern was all the more reason for Robin to feel everything but at ease in this place, even now that their hands were still tightly interlaced. Perhaps they were both scared to part again any time soon. But still, bloody portrait… couldn't anything ever be easy at Hogwarts?! Perhaps this room wasn't such a great place after all. Then again, maybe it only was almost getting killed that had her on edge far more quickly than usual. That explanation for her unease was more likely. Gods, she couldn't even keep her thoughts in line properly.

"Perhaps someone moved it while in the search for something else?" She suggested in an attempt to keep her recently regained calm. This was not a setback, that they hadn't found the portrait where it was supposed to be. It was rather a mystery, a riddle, and those were supposed to have edges and corners. Yes, that made her feel better about the situation. "I know tracing spells don't work in here, but perhaps we could have a quick look around nonetheless?"

"I have a better idea." Snape said with a thoughtful gaze at the spot where the portrait had been. Then – much to Robin's dismay – he let go of her hand and instead made them both move to the side, almost leaning into the next mountain of objects behind them as he went on. "How likely is it that Morgan, the perhaps only professor who has a habit of being constantly short of time, would spend precious minutes every morning and every night, according to his own words, to come here to look at the painting?"

"Unlikely, I should say. Practically impossible."

"Yes. And what does that thereby mean?"

"You just love to make me guess, don't you?"

Snape rolled his eyes, partially at Robin and also partially at himself if she wasn't mistaken, but then answered his own question nonetheless. "It means that he must have taken the portrait elsewhere. Either to his office or his private chambers, I presume."

"Oh bloody hell no…" Robin groaned under her breath, then leaned her head back into her neck for a moment to place that very logical piece of information into her mental puzzle. "I'm afraid you're right, but I still very much hope you're not. The thought-..."

"I know. It concerns me no less."

"Can we do anything to find out for sure before I break into his office for nothing?"

"Before we break into his office. Don't even think that I would let you do any of this alone." He protested immediately in a reproachful scoff, but when his words only made Robin smile ever so slightly, his expression mellowed out in return. "There is no way to be entirely certain about the whereabouts of the painting, seeing as the room's magic to protect its contents is older than the castle itself. We cannot undo it, not even nearly."

"Pity." Robin sighed in a mirror of his own favoured expression, which earned her a not-smirk before he went on.

"What we can do however is to trace a person's movements. If Morgan ever was in here, we should be able to see where precisely he went, which in this case is the next best thing."

"That's bloody brilliant!"

"Don't look so surprised…" He scoffed again, but the not-smirk lingered on even as he worded the according spell. It wasn't an unfamiliar or difficult one, but what made Robin feel both in awe and proud beyond reason was the very idea in the first place. Tracing the person and not the object was such an out-of-the-box approach to the problem at hand that it might as well have come from her own mind. But coming from Snape now, it made Robin realize all over again how much they had grown into each other's ways of thinking over the years. She couldn't help feeling proud of that even in a situation like this.

A mere few seconds later, the ground before them lit up with a straight line of glowing footsteps that came from between the mountains of things from the direction of the door. It led straight to the point where Robin vaguely remembered the portrait to have been, then it took a sharp turn straight back to where it had come from. No detours, no looking around. A straight path here, a straight path back.

"The spell only shows the last time he was here, not possible times before that." Snape explained, and Robin found herself nodding on instinct as her eyes followed the footsteps between the mountains where they disappeared from her sight.

"Yeah, I know…" She mused, frowning to herself once more. Obviously she knew the spell and its specifics, but something entirely else was nagging at her mind again, something she should take notice of but hadn't as of yet. It was terribly irksome.

"Perhaps a summary of the state of affairs might help?" He suggested, and it didn't even come as a surprise to Robin anymore that he knew exactly what was going on in her mind. In more instances than she could count, he just knew indeed.

"Very well, let's see…" Robin mused with a sigh, while they started making their way back towards the exit in a slow saunter. "Morgan wants to kill me. He is not insane, he rather seems to have a reason for what he does. One he doesn't quite agree with, or at least is somewhat troubled by himself. The chance that he can win a duel against me at this point is near non-existent, so his only chance is to catch me by surprise or trickery, like he did today. He would find it easier to kill me if I fought back, but he still doesn't plan to stop trying either way. He cannot stop for some reason, or so he says at least. He wants to kill me, and yet he doesn't want to see me dead."

"He has a twisted obsession with you, whether that be for you as a person or you as a representation of something or someone else." Snape went on in the wake of her words. "He clearly adores you, while yet he has an ineffable hatred for you, which makes him both enjoy and dread seeing you suffer. The obsession with you led him to take the portrait out of this room, which he came to discover by yet unknown factors. He came in here at least once and took the portrait out with him to presumably either his office or his rooms. There he looks at it every morning and every night, as for his statement, because he rarely sees the real you outside of class. Through that or perhaps for other reasons, he has formed some sort of bond with the woman in the painting, which he recognizes to be you and not you at the same time. He wants you to be his, and yet he wants you dead."

"Exactly." Robin sighed again. "That makes so much sense and yet it doesn't make sense at all. It's as if he is two people at once, at war over one thing he is made to do and one thing he wants to do. If you would've asked me a year ago, I would've said it could be an Imperius curse. But after reading the book Dumbledore gave me for my birthday, and you'll know this because we both have read it a gazillion times by now, the curse just doesn't quite fit in with the facts of the case."

"I agree. He is far too aware of himself and his struggle on either end to be cursed. Especially unlikely for an Imperius curse."

"Good… But that also means that nothing fits in with the facts. We have a bunch of new questions, but no answers whatsoever."

"Yet."

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[buginateacup]

Right. Let’s try this again shall we...

So. Roxanne is currently inhabitant numero 7 in the Lair. The first two being Megamind and Minion of course, three through six are the alligators and the bots “technically” don’t count as they’re a kind of hivemind thing.

Except for Pumpkin and Starlight. Who knows what’s going on with those two

Anyway.

Roxanne is living in the Lair, she’s got a week off work and by god she is going to do...something...about her feelings. What that something is? Nobody knows.

Least of all her.

But hey, there is a Swarm to hang out with and she doesn’t have to cook and her husband is very snuggly so far so good right?

Enter Aunt Helen. Well gatecrash. Well...look we need some kind of reason for Roxanne to yell about how wonderful Megamind is and ranting at xenophobic family members is always fun. So after Roxanne finds out the brain-bots have recategorised her as Designation Mama and Megamind has to rescue her from a very excited swarm its time to go back to the office because well shit there are MORE BOXES?

Does no one in this city have anything better to do than send them well wishes? Its getting creepy guys. Enough with the baby clothes already.

A wild Aunt Helen appears and its time for Roxanne to pay Megamind back for saying how much he loves her and how wonderful she is by doing the same mid rant and also sends herself into something of a spiral around family and self worth and feeling worthy of love and a whole mess.

So Megamind takes them for a drive to the lake where ooh remember that teaser I posted months ago about “tell me you love me?” Yeah that. This is gonna hurt kiddos I’m not gonna lie.

Of course Roxanne’s still under the impression he’s a very good liar and isn’t actually in love with her. And Megamind thinks she doesn’t love him.

They’re idiots your honour. Pining morons in love.

The other thing that happens is that Roxanne gets absolutely drenched by a speedboat that comes way too close to shore and lake water isn’t particularly healthy and she’s been under a lot of stress and is it any wonder she gets sick?

Roxanne doesn’t temperature regulate when she’s sick. This will mostly be played for laughs. I apologise for nothing.

Once she’s feeling better (and after she has essentially kicked Megamind out of bed for the weekend in the process, she feels pretty bad about that) she goes to apologise for kicking him out of his own bed an that somehow devolves into Megamind going into a guilt spiral about the cold and damp lair being no place for her to live and hands Roxanne the cash he won in Vegas and she storms out to find somewhere to live.

No dice.

She comes back home and they kind of dance around the issue for a bit before through a series of events including a punchingbag emblazoned with Metro Man’s face, supervillain capes and one or two other details I’m forgetting, Roxanne moves her stuff out of storage and into the Lair.

This is great except she’s not moving into the Lair per say, just storing her stuff here. Except then she gets an office.

Okay this is a lot more like moving in.

Have I mentioned these two soft idiots are finding it really hard to keep their hands to themselves? Because that’s a thing that keeps happening.

What it DOES lead to is a conversation between our two lovebirds where they finally admit uh...this is...kind of great? And I’m kind of into this? With you?

Is it wrong to want to date your husband/wife? Is that weird? Too bad we’re trying it anyway.

Minion would really appreciate if they would stop making out in the middle of his kitchen. He’s trying to bake here.

Megamind starts heroing without Metro Man’s support and wow no wonder the flying menace wanted to quit. This shit sucks.

Roxanne is kind of worried about him. She suggests maybe they take their private dating a little more public because people seem to leave them the fuck alone when its the two of them.

Megamind is incredibly in love with his incredibly smart wife.

Roxanne is incredibly in love with her incredibly fun husband.

Have they admitted it yet?

Fuck no what kind of story do you think this is?

Of course within 5 minutes of going public a few new villains roll into town and well, there’s still no new damsel for reasons relating to oh hell no Gerry, with a side of fuck you to the council, so Roxanne you’re up.

The first time it happens its funny. Or at least it looks that way. Its the first time Megamind has seen Roxanne get kidnapped by someone else and “I don’t care if the remote didn’t have any batteries in it! He could still have hurt you!”

Though good news it does get them to admit they are in fact actually in love with each other, have been all along, thanks for noticing.

Oh god you two idiots why are you like this?

Sadly that’s when a Council Endorsed Hero rolls into town, refusing to believe (and possibly has been a little tricked into thinking) there’s no way a villain could go good and he’s here to take down this psychic alien who’s tricked the city into thinking he’s a good guy.

What part of Megamind means psychic? Seriously?

Through a further series of events, mostly involving a battle and “You know what? You got me, I am still the bad guy, and you’re first on the scene so you’re the new hero! Hooray!”

They escape and wind up in Back up Six where you all finally get that tentacle sex I’ve been promising you since I first tagged it.

Also peace out we’re running back to Vegas to live in wedded bliss and Roxanne can run a Damsel Union and Megamind can keep inventing shit and they can establish the House of Minion.

Fin!

OK I’m really conflicted about them finally getting off as a kind of sexilogue. I am not about that life. but also most of this happens in like a week. And I coould do a sequel? I guess? IDK. Maybe we just spend a lot of time mutually getting each other off without actually getting naked?

I have no idea but I’ve written out how this is supposed to end four different times and frankly I’m done with the angst. Get cute you two.

[thefreelanceangel]

Shadowbringers Is Finally Ended

With Patch 5.55 and the official end of the Shadowbringers story, setting up now for Endwalker in November, there are now a few months ahead to grind gear, finish content and reflect on the most recent expansion.

And, without any hyperbole, I can say definitively that I have never in my life been as impressed with a game's writing as I have that of Shadowbringers, both the original expansion and a lot of the patch content. I have... thoughts.

I'm a bit of an outlier; I skipped Stormblood (oops) and went straight from completing Heavensward (which greatly impressed me at the time and still does) into Shadowbringers because I wanted to get a max level character already.

Within the first few cutscenes of Shadowbringers, I was absolutely hooked.

First, let me just say that "monstrous angels" is 100% My Thing. I ADORE the reinterpretation of the standard "Renaissance art angelic figures" into something closer to incomprehensible beings taking on twisted, terrifying appearances. The human mind is a finite thing and comprehending an angel would be as difficult as comprehending infinity; these are things so alien to our experience that assuming they'd be easy to grasp and familiar feels disingenuous to me.

So the sin-eaters and the Lightwardens? SLAP.

Also, the intent behind the usage of "Light" in Shadowbringers was deliberate and purposeful. Our Lord and Savior, Yoshi-P, stated this clearly in his Forbes interview.

"The inception of this idea was very simple: in recent fantasy works, the perception that light equates to good and dark equates to evil is very set in stone, we wanted to shake this up a bit.

"Until this point in Final Fantasy XIV, our players have been Warriors of Light: the hero. However, with Shadowbringers, we leave the Source and embark on a journey to the First, and through this I want our players to discover the truth of the world, as well as think about the real nature of light and dark. That is the theme of Shadowbringers.

"In any case, a light too strong could potentially become evil. Darkness and night are also necessary for the world to maintain its balance; that's the kind of theme we will be shedding light on."

And the themes in Shadowbringers had such an amazing resonance that they were both painfully clear and masterfully executed. Not only was the theme of "balance" clearly executed in the "returning Darkness to a world flooded by Light" goal, but the desire for players to "think about the real nature of light and dark" showed in a multitude of ways.

The Warriors of Light (who we met as the Warriors of Darkness in Heavensward) are, in their home world, reviled. They directly caused the Flood which nearly destroyed their home and although they were able to save it with personal sacrifice, the populace at large is unaware of that sacrifice. The motives behind what the Warriors did is essentially lost to history; all that remains is the perception of their actions and the results thereof.

Motives, however, which you (player and WoL) are privy to.

"At long last, you see. To save our world, we gave our lives. We were just adventurers trying to make our way. An odd job here, a favor there—we never aspired to be Warriors of Light. But word of our deeds spread, and soon people were calling us heroes. They placed their hopes and dreams on our shoulders and bid us fight for all that was good and right. We fought and we fought and we fought...until there was no one left to fight. We won...and now our world is being erased from existence. We did everything right, everything that was asked of us, and still—still it came to this! You of all people should understand! We cannot—we will not falter. We brought our world to the brink of destruction, and now we must save it."

You had that fight with the Warriors of Darkness. You heard Ardbert explain exactly what happened, how they came to the point where they faced off against you, and you saw what happened when they were given the choice to hold back the Flood. And you were there when the one favor Ardbert asked was for the Warriors of Darkness to be taken home.

You see how the First remembers them and it's stark contrast to the heroes you met who were fighting desperately to save people who now spit on their names. History quite clearly has two sides and which you believe is dependent entirely on what information you have.

This becomes even more of a clear theme when you meet Emet-Selch and learn more about the Calamity which led to the entire Zodiark/Hydaelyn duality. Here, your previous experiences with Ascians has painted them solely as "villains." They are established enemies, manipulating events and people in order to attain goals which, to you, are nothing but Calamities.

And yet, as you learn more about the original Source and the Amaurotines that once lived on it, these goals are painted in an entirely new light. Instead of merely seeking to wipe out "the world" for no apparent reason or, at best guess, greater power for their deity Zodiark, the Ascians were striving to repair the damage done by the original Sundering. They, in a manner of speaking, were doing what the Warriors of Darkness were. What you, the Warrior of Light, have been doing. They were trying to restore what was lost.

Which leads into another of Shadowbringers' major themes: grief and loss.

The earliest touches of this are in Alisaie's questlines where you learn about what happens to people tainted by the Light. Families are destroyed, people are transmuted into sin-eaters and those who avoid that fate must stand by and watch as their loved ones fall to something far worse than death. "A Purchase of Fruit" shows you exactly what the end result is while also highlighting something very specific: with no hope of removing the Light's taint, knowing that all that awaits the tainted is a painful transmutation and existence as a sin-eater, those untainted make the best they can of those last days and end the tainted individual's pain before it begins.

Grief, yes. Loss? Absolutely. And yet, this is a loving, compassionate thing that those in Amh Araeng are doing. They face their own grief and loss. Rather than refusing to accept the actuality of their circumstances or refuse to weigh themselves down with taking a decisive action, they make the choice to face their grief and loss directly, even willingly taking on the guilt of their actions rather than leaving the tainted to suffer.

Magnus in Twine lost his wife and son, which immobilizes him. He can't find solance in anything save alcohol and brooding over their graves. It takes outside interference to pull him directly from his grief, to help him see past the loss of his family and look towards the future where life might once again be worth living. His struggle with grief is painfully familiar and so very, very close to many real life struggles that it's extremely poignant.

This struggle with grief is the fight the Ascians are, without question, losing. Let's set aside the "tempering" argument when it comes to Emet-Selch and Elidibus for the moment, largely because it's actually quite true that grief can spur people into committing horrific acts either as a desperate attempt to assuage their own pain (revenge) or make 'things right' in some way (vengeance).

Emet-Selch does not, in fact, properly grieve for Amaurot and the Ancients he knew. He clings to them, as Hythlodaeus tells us, weighed down by an aching sense of loss.

"And though he may carry himself with a certain glib ease, Emet-Selch is not a man to bear his burdens lightly. In fact, I imagine they have only grown heavier with every passing century. ...T'is truly a terrible weight he has chosen to carry."

Quite significantly is the word "chosen" in that. Grief is a process that involves, eventually, letting go of the pain and living with the memories of what was loved and what no longer is. Emet-Selch chooses not to do that. He does not grieve for Amaurot and his lost loved ones; he refuses, no matter how often he mentions his loss, to admit that what is gone is gone.

Elidibus, rather similarly, refuses to accept that the duty he took on when called upon to become Zodiark's heart is finally at an end. That the world he and Emet-Selch originated from is gone. Although he admits that he can barely remember why he's set on this path, he refuses to turn away from him.

One won't forget, one can barely remember--neither will grieve and let go.

Even the Ascians' characteristic arrogance and disdain for what they consider "lesser beings" is easy to read as their long-lasting struggle with grief. Considering the Sundering, all the beings that the Ascians are so disdainful of are, in fact, echoes of that which they once knew. If they acknowledged that, accepted those beings as what they are and perhaps even admitted they had worth... well... Rather like realizing abruptly that you've spent a whole day without thinking of someone recently departed, it feels like a betrayal.

To find value in the worlds as they currently are, to turn away from the duty they were asked to uphold, to choose to lay down the memories of the past are all, in essence, choices the Ascians will not make because to do so would be to let go of what's lost, to move into the acceptance of grief and that can feel like betraying those whose memories are slowly fading.

Emet-Selch's end--"Remember us."--is directly tied to his refusal to forget. To let himself have even one day without hoping for an eventuality that's highly unlikely regardless of effort, without remembering the Sundering and the Final Days. He remembered, forcefully and tenaciously, and wishes that legacy to live beyond him.

While Elidibus, in remembering, unable to deny failure any longer, finally expresses grief and loss. "My people. My brothers. ...My friends. Stay strong. Keep the faith. At duty's end, we will meet again. We will. We will. The rains have ceased, and we have been graced with another beautiful day. But you are not here to see it."

And coming from villains, quite specifically from villains that have been largely indistinct "puppet master" figures throughout the previous expansions, these story arcs were a punch to the gut. (Yes, I had to pause writing this to cry helplessly over Elidibus again because my gods, that last line just...) Villains are at their best in fiction when they're relatable. When it's so very easy to see that thin line between villain and hero.

Faced with the loss of everything you'd ever loved, with the faintest possibility of getting it back, what would you do? What wouldn't you do? Yes, the Ascians did terrible things and that's undeniable. Stopping them was necessary to save hundreds of thousands of lives. And doing so, being victorious, didn't feel like a victory and that is such a rare, rare thing in media. The Warrior of Light does the right thing, but in doing so, must face the fact that those they've been fighting have hopes and dreams and feelings and pain as real and as motivating as theirs.

And Shadowbringers does such an impressive job of turning those standard tropes around. Heroes are a dime a dozen because if you just awaken them, as Elidibus did with the starshower, well, there can be dozens of Warriors running around. Villains have heart-wrenching motivations and relatable reasons for their goals. History is multi-faceted and no one person knows what the "truth" truly is. Grief can spur people to helping others (i.e. the tank Role Quest ending) or it can fester and go unhealed and create nothing but more destruction.

There is so much that Shadowbringers did beautifully, I don't have the time to touch on all of it. The lack of "breaking the flawed system fixes everything" trope following Eulmore's liberation from Vauthry and the struggles that Eulmore faces in trying to build a functional, working social order for themselves. Embracing the value of childish dreams and tending to the smallest, most overlooked victims of trauma with the Pixie Tribal Quests. Dealing with a commander whose soldiers died and seeing Lyna's survivor's guilt. Seeing how having a single, unified goal can inspire and rally people into putting differences aside and helping each other.

Shadowbringers has finally ended with Patch 5.55. The story on the First ended with Patch 5.3. And all I can say is that this is a game that I will never forget.

[yomimio]

The Northern Lion pt1

A child of a loveless marriage. Unwanted. A burden. A monster. A freak. Many words were used to describe her. Always behind her father’s back, of course. Not many were brave or stupid enough to risk the wrath of the Old lion.

It all started with a loveless marriage, but not her father’s, as many tend to assume. No, this problem has its roots in an incident years before, back when the Iron Throne was just changing owners.

The young and hot headed heir to the Storms End seat was surrounded by war. Swinging his battle-axe back and forth he gained more and more enemy’s land. Aided by his most trusted friends, Jon Arryn and The silent wolf, Eddard Stark, he was able to almost feel the hardness of the throne under his not-yet-voluptuous behind. He was so close. But it was not enough, for the old and crazy dragon was not ken on giving away his power.

The opportunity to win the war was presented to him one day in the shape of a letter with a lion on its crimson seal. All the military power of the Westernlands to his disposition, in exchange for his hand in marriage. The old king had refused to marry his son to the young daughter of his Hand of the King and Lord of Casterly Rock. First mistake. No one refuses a Lannister.

Robert Baratheon accepted the loveless marriage just to get the throne. Second mistake. It was truly an unhappy bond that gave him nothing but despair. Which contributed to his already strong resentment against the golden lions and, specially, against the head of their house.

The now king, started to alleviate this spitefulness with little acts against the Lannisters. First it was things like offending his wife, her brothers… but soon he formed a more calculated plan. He wanted their house gone.

Tywin has only three children. One he was married to, so that ensured that her children wouldn’t be able to inherit Casterly Rock. The twin he appointed as one of his kingsguard, so he could not marry nor inherit lands. It was perfect. There was no one that could follow the Lannister line no more, for the third child was the Old lion’s shame. Tywin would never allow the Imp to become Lord and Warden of the West. His little revenge was complete.

But he was a greedy man. It was on her wife’s and queen’s birthday that he decided to make what would become his biggest mistake so far. A western bard sang at the party. It was a love song. A song about the love of a lion. Truly, a beautiful song. Then he remembered. He remembered how much Tywin Lannister loved his wife Joanna, and how her death had affected him (making him hate his youngest son even more).

There it was. The way to ultimately humiliate Tywin. It was not easy, but it was done. Tywin Lannister remarried. Another forced and unhappy marriage. The young bride was selected from a northern house in hopes to tickle even more the lion’s distaste for the North. Brilliant.

And a child was born. The mother was too fragile. The lion was two times widowed.

A girl. The ultimate failure. The stag was ecstatic, Fortune favored him. Now Tywin did not have other option than name the Imp Lord, if he wanted the Lannister name to survive, but he knew the lion would never do that. He had won. Or so he thought. Fourth mistake.

The little girl was a disappointment for her father. He knew what the king was trying to do, and between his rage, he also knew he had nothing to do. Tyrion would be a shame to the Lannister name and the newborn could not inherit the titles. If only she was a boy!

There was nothing to do. The baby was left behind in the North where she was born, in her mother’s family keep. Forgotten.

It was not so bad, at least what (Y/N) Lannister could remember of those years. She ran wild in the forests that surrounded the castle, played with the town’s children, when she learned how to read, she spent hours holed up in the library. She absorbed what she read. At nine years old she already knew many military strategies, knew how to heal, how to make poisons and (by her constant nagging to the master at arms) how to defend herself with a small knife, and was quite proficient with the bow. It was impressive. She was impressive. She was happy. She lived, acted and talked like a true northerner. The North was what she was. It was the only thing she knew. She had been told that she had a father, yes. That he was an important Lord in the South. But these facts went over her head. What did it matter if she had a father or not? She never met him. And she would never. Fifth mistake.

All of (Y/N)’s world came crashing down around her 10th birthday. She had already lost her front teeth and she had now the permanent ones. But the canines. These were the problem. You see, there were ancient legends about the old Houses. It’s said that every hundreds of generations, and if the parents were strong and powerful enough, a child was born that sported some of the traits of the House’s sigil. Old widows even say that some of those children had the power to shapeshift into the House’s animal sigil. But these last ones were folly. What was not folly was the fang that sprouted from where her canine had fall. She did not mind it, why would she? It was a tooth, wasn’t it? What of it was a bit sharper than what the others had? Better to rip the meat off the turkey’s leg bone!

Her household minded though.

By the time the news reached Casterly Rock, she had two fangs, her upper and lower right ones. She had a …. special smile.

She did not understand all the fuss over it. Yes, she was a little different, so what? (Y/N) did not know that her life would radically change because of that. She did not know that, but what she did know was that all those people wearing armor and carrying red flags with golden lions, were a sight to behold when they crossed her keep’s gates.

(A/N): I do not own any characters from Game of Thrones. This is just made for fun. I don’t own any image or gif unless I specifically say so. English is not my first language, so sorry about the mistakes. Some events may differ from canon, but since *those two* can do whatever they want, then so can I. :)