#the way he handles his coup is very normal and not at all too much

[rawliverandgoronspice]

It's always so very strange to me that some people seem to think I want Ganondorf to not be a war criminal and do nothing wrong and be little uwu baby when... like, I know people often don't follow the fanwork produced by a given blog and it's completely cool and neat and fine, but.

In Descant, not only do I explore some of the horrible stuff he does, I'm *adding* war crimes. I'm like, making him more indefensible.

[shujikitten]

Synopsis: Sold at a young age to the Okasan of a large hostess club you had a life time of debit to repay. The worst part? It wasn’t even yours. The second you’re old enough you’re thrown to the wolves but little do they know that you bite back. After ten grueling years you’re finally seeing a dent in your debt. But your Saturn return in your 28th year doesn’t take too kindly to you, not that life ever did, and you find yourself indebted to an even bigger monster.

Warnings: choking, arson, violence, major power imbalance and spitting

Chapter Three: Humiliation never tasted so bitter. wc 1005

Master List : Here

A/N: thank @/kinjuutsu for this addition! Hopefully vi will simp over him with me 😜

Draken exhales through his nose like a dragon as Kisaki comes and takes his spot beside him. Because somehow Mikey decided he needed two helping hands.

Reckon he did with how much the gang has grown since the big merger made in hopes to keep from washing the streets in a copper tang.

The small army of men, some dressed in suits, others their street jackets, stood segregated with their former alliance despite Mikey’s wishes of unity. Draken couldn’t blame them, if he were standing in a crowd of hundreds of men he’d rather amongst those he considered kin. Musashi Shrine had a lot of open space and it didn’t take a genius to figure out how easily a fight could break out here.

“Where’s the Zombie?” Ken inquires, eyes flickering over to the step below him where the Zombie normally stood. Kisaki, per the usual, provides no answer nor expression as his dull eyes look through his golden rectangle glasses surveying. Plotting.

“OI!” Draken doesn’t shout, he just raises his voice and the men start to quiet and straighten as Mikey makes his way to the top step just above Draken and Tetta.

“It’s important you all listen very carefully this time around.” A threat and a promise neatly woven together, should they not heed his warning they’d be dealt with personally.

And they’d all seen how far a kick from Sano could send someone.

Mikey lays out the agenda before his eyes flicker to a car that comes speeding up the narrow gravel drive just before the gate to the shrine. Figures he’d be late.

“One more thing…” The car comes to a halt and if one wasn’t familiar with the viridian coupe and just who owned it, they could be a dead man if they weren’t careful.

“FUCKIN ASSHOLE!” A rasped voice echoes over the quiet; and even strained it seems to shake the ground. The group keeps a divide between them, a path of sorts as Hanma brings forth a woman.

A gorgeous woman, who’s huffing and gnashing at the teeth with her hands pinned behind her back by the taller man guiding her. She fights to no avail and still, even Shuji struggles to keep his footing in his designer dress shoes on the loose gravel and against the likes of a Yokai like you.

You’re mostly shrouded by leaning bodies now as a murmur breaks out among the men. Leaning until the very last second to catch a glimpse of whoever is giving the God of Death such a struggle. Hissing death threats and even spitting at some of the men.

Finally the last few men straighten as Hanma makes his way to climb the stairs. Leaning back as he lifts you so your heels do not touch the concrete steps.

As Hanma brings you up, Draken’s nostrils flare, his heart free falling into his stomach just to spring back and lodge in his throat.

What

The

Fuck

What the fuck was that damned Zombie doing. You were off limits. Ken Ryuguji made sure of that. Made plenty of examples, harsh ones, where men couldn’t walk for weeks when he was through although you were more known to handle things on your own.

When your eyes lock with his, a flicker of emotions bubble up past the rage in your stunning iris. Shame, sadness, worry.

Fear.

A tic forks in his jaw as Hanma tries to settle you to stand next to him, free hand moving to the nape of your neck like a scruffed cat. Once Mikey determines you’re settled enough and before a white knuckled Draken can make his move, he speaks.

“In light of recent developments Hanma’s house was burnt down and now -”

“She’s mine.” Hanma interrupts, vying for the satisfaction to announce it himself, gripping at your hair to crane your neck as if he were about to mark you with a bite then and there. Draken’s eyes flash murder and as the tall, broad shouldered blonde takes a step with the full intent to bloody his knuckles, again Mikey speaks.

“She’s indebted to him since she is the one who committed the arson, anyone who objects or violates this order will have to deal with me.”

Draken turns to Mikey only to be met with hard set eyes. The air is charged and it does nothing more than spur on Hanma who laughs loudly.

Manic in the way he’s so absorbed in you. It was obvious to Shuji now that the two of you knew one another and that you really thought that Draken could have any sway in your fate. You jerk, grinding your teeth hard enough you think they’ll turn to dust. It already feels as if ash is coating your tongue except this time it doesn’t taste as sweet as it had all the others.

No apartment complex, warehouse, mansion, or restaurant up in flames before you. Lighting up your eyes with a devious mirth.

Nope, nothing but your own damnation up in smoke, clouding your eyes and crowding in your throat.

“Does it burn Nekomata? Being on holy ground?” Shuji licks a strip up your throat and you risk his grip tearing out a handful of hair as you turn as best you can to spit on his chest. A mix of a chuckle and growl rumbles in his throat.

“Enough.” Draken seethes and Hanma can only provide a nasty grin. Relishing the power he holds over not just one but two people he has a personal vendetta against.

“Dismissed.” Mikey says with finality and only now does Tetta move or even react. Pulling out a manila folder with official documents that he passes to Hanma.

“Your new address.” Kisaki says calmly but his blue eyes ice over as he holds a playfully sadistic golden gaze. Within a few blinks much has been discussed between the two. Mainly ’This is too showy for a stupid slut. Even for you.’ to which the dark haired man replies

‘Not showy enough. Let me have my fun.’

previously posted to katsukikitten, fiction moved to shujikitten

[danwhobrowses]

AEW All Out 2022 - Quickfire Review

Completing our trilogy of wrestling is AEW's Chicago PPV. After much deliberation on the card we have 15 matches to get through, more than Clash and World's Collide combined

but what matters is the finished product, so let's see how AEW's turn fared

Spoilers for the PPV

Zero Hour

Starting with the Mixed Tag champions heating it up before Ortiz and Ruby jumped them with a cart, Sammy pushed Tay out of the way

Ortiz is sporting like an Aja Kong level facepaint

Anna tries to interfere but Ruby counters it this time, but she does catch the leg to stumble Ruby into a Tay-KO, nice and inoffensive match, tad unnecessary but that start was pretty hot

I will say though, Ruby NEEDS a partner, put this solely as a women's feud against TayJay: Mercedes Martinez is my top choice, put the ROH women's title into the mix and then finish the feud with Ruby and Mercedes winning a street fight

Cool Hand Angelo with the nice jacket

This was a nice little new experience for HOOK really, normally his opponents have been 1v1, but with Daddy Magic running interference it showed how he needed to handle the disadvantage

Parker held out longer than most too, both were clean moving

Redrum after getting out of Parker's Brainbuster, Menard attacks after but Action Bronson - who sings HOOK's entrance them - makes the save

The Bombastic Box Man enters with a couple of other box men, and he got a nice pop for a guy who's sat in the crowd for much of a year

BBM got a nice showcase to remind the fans of his athleticism and ring psychology, he had the crowd in his hand for much of the match, even responding to a heckler 'yeah but I'm over it'

There is narrative with PAC though, he feels unchallenged but that gave Kip a lot of openings, which only annoys the BASTARD more

No Tony, that's not the Coup de Grace XD After raining stomps on Kip, PAC finishes Kip with a Black Arrow

Tony comes to potentially interview PAC but out comes Orange Cassidy. PAC however tells him 'No', hilariously, while Kip argues with his box head

Ohf Eddie, can you just promo poetry to us?

Ishiii and Eddie deserved more of an ovation, I thought this was Chicago?

There we go Chicago

You'd think after GUNTHER vs Sheamus I'd have had enough of chops but NOPE YOU'D BE WRONG!

This is just two hard-arsed men slapping the spit outta each other

A very close nearfall from an Uraken, but then after Ishii headbutts Eddie awake, Uraken and Fisherman's Bomb finishes it for a good match

Eddie shows his respects to a reluctant Ishii to end the Zero Hour, commentary further hinting a rubber match

Four good matches, my whistle whetted, what's to complain?

Main Card

We start big with the Casino Ladder Match

YUTA and Fénix are our first guys

Wasting no time in using the ladders, but RUSH comes out next

RUSH whips Fénix with camera wire as Andrade comes out

LFI work together but they're too modest with each other

Yoots gets sunset bombed into a ladder just in time for Claudio to come in

Bit of a messy spot with Andrade, and then when Dante comes in the ladder falls on him XD sometimes the furniture doesn't play ball

Dante gets a few near escape spots while throwing Claudio out of the ring

Penta comes in like a house on fire though, including killing Andrade with a Ladder Destroyer, Fénix also kills RUSH with a table splash

Unknown assailants attack Dante, and one climbs to the top

It's Stoke's Blokes!

They give the chip to a masked leader, but he won't unmask to reveal himself

Okay, that finish was weird, but we were all asking for Stoke's Blokes to do something. And now we have a mystery and they got it out of the way, in the vacuum it's not great but we'll have to see how it plays out

I thought the joker would be MJF but we'll have to see

The purple bandannas are back

Kenny still delving out that Ospreay Shade, no tape on Kenneth this time

Callis trying to give the mind games on commentary

DO showing their talent, but when Hangman reins them in Matt tags in Kenny

Hear that noise

Kenny's presence has awoken Hangman's intensity

'You can't do that!' hilariously said as Hangman escapes the You Can't Escape

Silver's hot tag is stopped temporarily by a superkick

Spin Doctor and Dark Order Combination have only gotten them two

Pendulum Bomb intercepted at 2

I don't wanna hear ANOTHER WORD saying that Silver and Reynolds are not great tag wrestlers, they have hung with the Bucks

Kenny at 100% though, there's a reason he's called the Best Bout Machine

Buckshot from Page, he tries another but Matt holds him back, Kenny ducks and Nick hits the Buckshot, BTE Trigger, saved by Reynolds!

Oh that almost got me, Silver rolled Omega for 2.98

And the tragic end though, Kenny ducks the Buckshot and Silver eats all of it, giving the Elite the win

I'm not mad about it, it was an excellent match, and the narrative serves amazingly that Hangman ended up the Dark Order's downfall, but I REALLY wanted Dark Order to win there

TBS title next and Athena's got new wings

Jade goes She Hulk for her attire

Athena hits the O-Face early but the baddies break it up, Kiera throws Leila under the bus

Both kipping back up after big moves

That went too short I'm afraid, still a good match but after Jade hit the big boot it was over from a single Jaded

Before everyone goes on a tirade though, it's worth reminding that the TBS title plans had gone off course since Kris' injury, the interferences also imply Athena might get a rematch, but again, in the vacuum it wasn't great that it was short

Sonjay tried to get heat with the shirt, but Dax brought his aforementioned 8 year old

You doubt Wardlow isn't still over with that noise?

It's key that Lethal and MCMG need to triple team each individual to maintain advantage

Powerbomb Symphony gets the win

Lethal's squad tries to corner FTR and Wardlow but here returns Samoa Joe

And some nice popping with Dax's daughter pinning Dutt

It was nice stuff, against the TBS title I probably would've just put this on the next Dynamite so the TBS title had more time

Ricky and Hobbs wasting no time going at it

But it never quite gets out of second gear, which is a shame, Hobbs dominates much of the match and when Starks heats up he runs into a Spinebuster

Acclaimed Rap was alright, Trump documents didn't quite land with the crowd

Oh Bowens literally ran from Keith Lee there

Oh? Keith Lee forgoing the handshake? Guess they sense that the Acclaimed has the fans's side

Can't tell if Bowens' knee is a work or shoot, Swerve and Lee got to work on it but Bowens is staggering so maybe it's a bit of both?

Swerve Stomp for just 2!

Caster Lifted Lee!

Mic Drop broken up at 2.9!

Bowens couldn't hold off for long and the House Call has the champs retain

Lee tried to show the scissor for respect but the crowd weren't having it, bit stubborn of Chicago I think

This was a good match, it felt like it had to alter on the fly given how over the Acclaimed are

Tony gets a lot of heat for the women but Chicago are not exactly giving the women their dues reaction wise either, literally so quiet. The Casino Ladder match had as much build and wasn't this quiet so don't give me any shit that it's all on Tony

Hayter got a point mocking the ref as the duo take out Shida on the ramp with a curb stomp

They're trying to drag her out but Shida will come back

And she's back with two kendo sticks!

CHICAGO FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST MAKE SOME NOISE

Baker screws Hayter out of the win by pulling the ref!

Then almost tries to pin Hayter after Toni spiked her!

Toni hits the DDTs on Baker and Hayter to win

This match was good, but the crowd was so lifeless towards it and I hate that, Toni winning makes sense because she was gonna beat Rosa on this match, but I had hoped for Hayter

That being said Hayter being betrayed can lead to something, y'know, Storyline!

JB's mother gives Christian a slap

JB comes out but Luchasaurus chokeslams him on the grates, then on table right in front of his family

This is good heat though, JB still tries to fight and kicks out of the Spear but not the Killswitch.

Heel Luchasaurus is the way to go as well, new music and look couldn't be put to waste

Papa Regal back on Commentary

Who is Elliott Taylor? Kinda a change of tone there

Garcia watching from back as well

This is good from a technique standpoint but it is slow for me

Cattle Mutilation to BCC Elbows

Low Blow and Judas Effect gets Jericho the win, but as JAS celebrate, Garcia looks on disappointed that Jericho had to cheat to win

HoB with the cool entrance as expected

Miro going for the House even before Sting and Darby had their entrances

Sting is cured of his affliction, though there might be a little twinge of poison left

Yeah just let Miro fight them all

Darby has to blind tag to get in the match because Miro won't tag his enemies

No pop for Miro tag? The fuck are you on Chicago?

Least you're piping up for Sting

Death Drop and Coffin Drop is broken up by Buddy

Buddy causing Miro to crash by hitting him with the bat

STING MIST, Last Supper gives the win

Another good match Chicago ruined by silence, but I think the House needed the win

But don't get it twisted, Malakai ain't leaving AEW, he's just taking time off

Garcia is told he's on his own for the PURE title match

Death Triangle vs Best Friends too

Mox is being prime asshole here

Punk didn't buckle this time though, a flurry into a GTS is only a nearfall

And now into the Chicago crowd

Now Punk bleeds instead of Mox

Welp, Mox is sleeping on the couch tonight, Renee don't like the blood licking

Mox focusing on the leg though as Punk stays reluctant

But Punk damages Mox's shoulder for an Anaconda Vice

Mox catches the GTS for a Death Rider but it's only 2

A second GTS lands but Mox falls on him, so he hits the third for the win

It's the right call, Mox deserved to be the first 2-time champ which is why we did the Cleveland incident

Lights go out and Masked Joker is indeed The Devil Himself, Maxwell Jacob Friedman

So in my book, as dullard as the finish to the opener was, the outcome is validated

Conclusion

It was a good show, but like the others, this should have been better.

Tony is hopefully to learn a valuable lesson that he has put too many matches on the main card, some matches were owed more time, and other matches could've been put onto Dynamite and Rampage. Some things are calculated risks that may pay off down the line but there has to be a balance between payoff on the night and payoff on the future. Chicago though were for many matches obnoxiously quiet and reluctant, and no matter how much the wrestlers tried to draw energy, they didn't play ball. Some wrestlers are now desperately in need of a win though; Ruby, HoB, Jamie, it wasn't a good night for BCC either since they all lost, Yoots can bounce back against Garcia (because I kinda want Moriarty to win it off him) .

There are positives at play, and the Trios match is probably the one I enjoyed most out of all three shows, we got some solid storytelling as a result of some match outcomes, the All Atlantic Title is levelling up, the Trios Tournament finished strong, and dangling threads for turns.

Also the media scrum to me feels like a work, you'd think Tony would just sit there as Punk shot on everyone else? And then rumors that Punk fought with the Bucks? Doubtful, unless you see some suspensions I'd say this is just a play to resuscitate kayfabe - just like the MJF stuff. But frankly I'm tired of that, I just want to watch my wrestling.

Overall, All Out matches Clash at the Castle, while Clash was too safe and ended dully by backing out on hitting the iron, All Out was bloated and didn't give all the potential great matches the time they deserved, but there were good matches and wrestling in all three PPV shows.

Match Results (and Predictions)

Zero Hour: Sammy Guevara & Tay Melo (c) def. Ortiz & Ruby Soho (Pinfall on Ruby by Tay via Tay-KO) HOOK (c) def. 'Cool Hand' Angelo Parker [w/'Daddy Magic' Matt Menard] (Submission via Redrum) PAC (c) def. Kip Sabian (Pinfall via Black Arrow) Eddie Kingston def. Tomohiro Ishii (Pinfall via Fisherman's Bomb)

Main Card: MJF [masked w/Stokely Hathaway et al] wins the Casino Ladder Match vs Wheeler YUTA, Rey Fénix [w/Alex Abrahantes], RUSH [w/José the Assistant], Claudio Castagnoli, Dante Martin & Penta El 0M The Elite [w/Brandon Cutler & MT Nakazawa] def 'Hangman' Adam Page & Dark Order (Pinfall on Silver by Omega via friendly fire Buckshot Lariat) - INAUGURAL TRIOS CHAMPIONS Jade Cargill (c) [w/ The Baddies] def. Athena (Pinfall via Jaded) FTR & Wardlow def. Jay Lethal & Motor City Machine Guns (Pinfall on Lethal by Wardlow via Powerbomb Symphony) Powerhouse Hobbs def. Ricky Starks (Pinfall via Spinebuster) Swerve in our Glory (c) def. The Acclaimed [w/Billy Gunn] (Pinfall by Swerve on Bowens via House Call) Toni Storm def. Britt Baker, Jamie Hayter and Dr. Britt Baker DMD [w/ Reba] (Pinfall on Hayter via DDT) - INTERIM WOMEN'S CHAMPION! Christian Cage def. 'Jungle Boy' Jack Perry (Pinfall via Killswitch) 'Lionheart' Chris Jericho def. Bryan Danielson (Pinfall via Judas Effect) Miro, Sting & Darby Allin def. House of Black (Pinfall on Black by Darby via Last Supper) CM Punk def Jon Moxley (c) (Pinfall via GTS) - TITLE CHANGE!

[katsukikitten]

Synopsis: Sold at a young age to the Okasan of a large hostess club you had a life time of debit to repay. The worst part? It wasn’t even yours. The second you’re old enough you’re thrown to the wolves but little do they know that you bite back. After ten grueling years you’re finally seeing a dent in your debt. But your Saturn return in your 28th year doesn’t take too kindly to you, not that life ever did, and you find yourself indebted to an even bigger monster.

Warnings: choking, arson, violence, major power imbalance and spitting

Chapter Three: Humiliation never tasted so bitter. wc 1005

Master List

A/N: thank @/kinjuutsu for this addition! Hopefully vi will simp over him with me 😜

Draken exhales through his nose like a dragon as Kisaki comes and takes his spot beside him. Because somehow Mikey decided he needed two helping hands.

Reckon he did with how much the gang has grown since the big merger made in hopes to keep from washing the streets in a copper tang.

The small army of men, some dressed in suits, others their street jackets, stood segregated with their former alliance despite Mikey's wishes of unity. Draken couldn't blame them, if he were standing in a crowd of hundreds of men he'd rather amongst those he considered kin. Musashi Shrine had a lot of open space and it didn't take a genius to figure out how easily a fight could break out here.

"Where's the Zombie?" Ken inquires, eyes flickering over to the step below him where the Zombie normally stood. Kisaki, per the usual, provides no answer nor expression as his dull eyes look through his golden rectangle glasses surveying. Plotting.

"OI!" Draken doesn't shout, he just raises his voice and the men start to quiet and straighten as Mikey makes his way to the top step just above Draken and Tetta.

"It's important you all listen very carefully this time around." A threat and a promise neatly woven together, should they not heed his warning they'd be dealt with personally.

And they'd all seen how far a kick from Sano could send someone.

Mikey lays out the agenda before his eyes flicker to a car that comes speeding up the narrow gravel drive just before the gate to the shrine. Figures he'd be late.

"One more thing…" The car comes to a halt and if one wasn't familiar with the viridian coupe and just who owned it, they could be a dead man if they weren't careful.

"FUCKIN ASSHOLE!" A rasped voice echoes over the quiet; and even strained it seems to shake the ground. The group keeps a divide between them, a path of sorts as Hanma brings forth a woman.

A gorgeous woman, who's huffing and gnashing at the teeth with her hands pinned behind her back by the taller man guiding her. She fights to no avail and still, even Shuji struggles to keep his footing in his designer dress shoes on the loose gravel and against the likes of a Yokai like you.

You're mostly shrouded by leaning bodies now as a murmur breaks out among the men. Leaning until the very last second to catch a glimpse of whoever is giving the God of Death such a struggle. Hissing death threats and even spitting at some of the men.

Finally the last few men straighten as Hanma makes his way to climb the stairs. Leaning back as he lifts you so your heels do not touch the concrete steps.

As Hanma brings you up, Draken's nostrils flare, his heart free falling into his stomach just to spring back and lodge in his throat.

What

The

Fuck

What the fuck was that damned Zombie doing. You were off limits. Ken Ryuguji made sure of that. Made plenty of examples, harsh ones, where men couldn't walk for weeks when he was through although you were more known to handle things on your own.

When your eyes lock with his, a flicker of emotions bubble up past the rage in your stunning iris. Shame, sadness, worry.

Fear.

A tic forks in his jaw as Hanma tries to settle you to stand next to him, free hand moving to the nape of your neck like a scruffed cat. Once Mikey determines you're settled enough and before a white knuckled Draken can make his move, he speaks.

"In light of recent developments Hanma's house was burnt down and now -"

"She's mine." Hanma interrupts, vying for the satisfaction to announce it himself, gripping at your hair to crane your neck as if he were about to mark you with a bite then and there. Draken's eyes flash murder and as the tall, broad shouldered blonde takes a step with the full intent to bloody his knuckles, again Mikey speaks.

"She's indebted to him since she is the one who committed the arson, anyone who objects or violates this order will have to deal with me."

Draken turns to Mikey only to be met with hard set eyes. The air is charged and it does nothing more than spur on Hanma who laughs loudly.

Manic in the way he's so absorbed in you. It was obvious to Shuji now that the two of you knew one another and that you really thought that Draken could have any sway in your fate. You jerk, grinding your teeth hard enough you think they'll turn to dust. It already feels as if ash is coating your tongue except this time it doesn't taste as sweet as it had all the others.

No apartment complex, warehouse, mansion, or restaurant up in flames before you. Lighting up your eyes with a devious mirth.

Nope, nothing but your own damnation up in smoke, clouding your eyes and crowding in your throat.

"Does it burn Nekomata? Being on holy ground?" Shuji licks a strip up your throat and you risk his grip tearing out a handful of hair as you turn as best you can to spit on his chest. A mix of a chuckle and growl rumbles in his throat.

"Enough." Draken seethes and Hanma can only provide a nasty grin. Relishing the power he holds over not just one but two people he has a personal vendetta against.

"Dismissed." Mikey says with finality and only now does Tetta move or even react. Pulling out a manila folder with official documents that he passes to Hanma.

"Your new address." Kisaki says calmly but his blue eyes ice over as he holds a playfully sadistic golden gaze. Within a few blinks much has been discussed between the two. Mainly 'This is too showy for a stupid slut. Even for you.' to which the dark haired man replies

'Not showy enough. Let me have my fun.'

[spices-and-cherries]

Handling cultural differences with Yondu Udonta would include...

Okay, so I lied... I won’t finish Rampage before posting Michael Rooker content... I just had ideas that needed to be realized. Also, I’ve finally replied to a bunch of your lovely comments! I apologize for not doing so before - I kept putting it off (and I couldn’t figure out how bc I’m dumb like that). I’d also like to say that one or two of these were loosely inspired by Vital, a Yondu fanfic written by the one and only @loveisyondublue​! Please check it out if you haven’t - you’re in for a treat!

I did not reference race, gender, sexuality, or physical appearance. If I missed something, please let me know so I can change it!

Masterlist:

- Literature and media is present in many alien cultures, so the concept of what a movie or book is is not completely lost on Yondu (there’s also Peter to thank). The problem is that it’s super rare to find any from Terra. The stuff you do find, you either don’t have the right equipment to watch it on or it’s in another language...

- Alien music is kinda fun, but kinda dangerous too. You have to be careful if there’s a live performance somewhere because some vocal frequencies - while fine for others - are painful for Terrans. You once were at a bar with Yondu and there was a live performance. Halfway through the third set, Yondu freaked. You had started to bleed out of your ears, but hadn’t noticed. You ended up being fine, but Yondu has never been the same since. 

- You do tell Yondu and the Guardians (and anyone interested) about different Terran things. He likes anything that has to do with treasure and jokes about planning a trip to Terra to see if he can snatch anything. He also likes any and all fun facts that you have. They’re weird and he might not fully understand them, but he likes it all the same. 

- He also enjoys learning about Terran history. Great wars, diasporas, coups, ancient civilizations and anything else you can remember are all interesting to him. He’s found that there’s a lot more to Terra than he’d originally thought. 

- Of course, you stopped talking about mystical creatures and the like after he looked at you like you were crazy. Vampires? Turns out there’s a planet full of them less than a galaxy away. Phoenixes? There was one at the auction house on the planet you were just on. Zombies? There’s one coming straight at you! Okay, maybe not the last one, but after he started pointing these things out, you stopped bothering. It was too much for your heart to handle. 

- He can’t handle spicy food. At all. You found some Terran spices once and tried to replicate a dish that you really liked. It came out pretty good, so you shared some with Yondu. To say he was unhappy with you would be an understatement, but it didn’t last long (sulking meant he couldn’t get any kisses).

- Terran food in general is just weird to him so you don’t bother explaining it - unless you (miraculously) find something that you recognize. 

- Ravagers are not exactly known for their cleanliness and hygiene. Yondu’s disregard for his personal upkeep is something you were actively trying to fix, but you stopped given the circumstances: showers are kept to a minimum out of the need to preserve resources, Terran-safe toothpaste is even more expensive than the normal kinds (which you learned have acids that burn your gums the hard way), toilet paper is a luxury... So you find yourself adapting instead. It’s uncomfortable, but you manage to make do with what you got. 

- Yondu thinks it’s funny that you call ships ‘vehicles’. The first time you slipped up by saying you had left something in the car, he was so confused. When you explained to him what a car was, he was even more confused. Cue an hour long conversation on the different modes of transportation available on Terra. He’s both impressed and amused (repeatedly muttered ‘yacht’ under his breath throughout the rest of the day, making himself giggle).

- You think politics on Earth are complicated? Space politics is so confusing, it’s scary. You have no idea how Yondu keeps tabs on all the goings on. How does he keep track? When did he have the time to read the ‘morning paper’? Does he not get all the names confused? You really do try to understand, but it makes you wanna cry out of frustration. 

- The two of you have a long conversation on what respect means. His definition is based on fear and leadership, which is very different from yours. It’s hard for you to adapt and it’s hard for him to understand, but the two of you are getting somewhere. Once you managed to find the balance between work and your relationship, things got a lot smoother. 

- His concept of what counts as cheating is also different than yours. He hasn’t really been in many relationships, so he doesn’t get it. He also hasn’t learned that going to fellow ravagers for love advice isn’t the best idea. He claims they hadn’t done him wrong yet, but fails to realize less than a quarter of them have ever been in a relationship. It’s the thought that counts?

- To say that you’re not used to sleeping in a puppy pile is saying something. Your back and muscles are just not built for it. Also someone was stabbed in their sleep not too long after you joined, so that’s fun to think about. Thankfully, even before your relationship started, Yondu had you sleep next to him. 

-----

I hope you all enjoyed this! I know it’s not Daniel Craig, but I have been wanting to expand a little. Please tell me what you think or if there are other Michael Rooker characters you’d like to see (I’m thinking Clyde Dutton from Love and Monsters)... My asks are always open and comments are always welcome! 

- Simpy

[legends-live-in-memories]

“How Did All This Happen?”- A Memoire by one Marinette Dupain-Cheng 1

Soooooo I decided to write this. much longer than the other things i posted, also very tonally different. I will definitely continue that other fic tho. I was just brainstorming and now this exists. Yeah.

 without further ado

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

People Fucked Up and Now It’s All Marinette’s Mess to Clean Up I

This was not how Marinette planned for her night to go. Granted, she also could not envision it going literally any other way. The woes of making a deal with the hell-raiser himself, John Constantine, she supposes. She truly hoped Adrien was having a much better time than her with his cousin in London. After the circus that was the past three years, he deserved some reprieve, even if it was with his bratty doppelganger. Regardless, Marinette. Was. Not. Pleased. No matter how many times she thinks over her plan, recalculates every step and decision, she could not fathom this night ending well for her, or anyone really, but mostly her. And no amount of old Ladybug or Guardian luck could help her. Now, if one were to wonder what kind of tragedy had befallen Marinette on this disgraceful night, a brief history of the last three months could enlighten such a person. Or better yet, let’s start at the beginning. The Real Beginning.

So, things existed. Obviously. First there was nothing, and then, something. And as more things began to exist, as new schools of knowledge and concepts and ideas began to, well, exist, Kwamis formed as well. Each Kwami was the physical manifestation of these ideas or abstracts. Creation was the first, coupled with Destruction. And as more things began to exist, more things began needing to be protected. Thus, the Kwami of Protection. This went on. For a while. Soon thereafter there were Kwamis of all types. Jubilation, Time, Strength, etc, etc, and etc. Now these Kwamis did not linger in one spot. They roamed across the far stretches of existence and interacted with the life they found.

Some Kwamis decided to form a magical pact which intergalactic historians would later dub the Emotional Electromagnetic Spectrum. Sounds familiar? The Kwamis themselves were completely blissfully unaware of this title, lest they would have explained to these beings, Maltusians they were called, that they were not in fact, electromagnetic but more so a part of the Powers that Be. Kind of. But this side-story involves the formation of a few universally known Lantern Corps, and that is a barrel of monkeys our exasperated narrator does not want to touch with a ten-foot pole. Or ever.

Other Kwamis, who stuck close to what would become known as the Milky Way, were discovered by a mage who granted them the ability to interact with humans. This mage— and Marinette was silently cursing his descendants, herself included, for if it weren’t for this absolute mad lad, none of the subsequent events of this night would have transcribed—had bound the Kwamis to magical jewelry called Miraculouses. An interesting side effect of these Kwamis being bound to the miraculouses was that the wearer could call upon the powers of the Kwamis for their own usage. The mage feared what could become of the world if this kind of power became so easily accessible, so he created the Order of the Guardians. The Order was dedicated to training young mages to protect, wield and harvest the powers of the miraculouses. The Order swore to true neutrality; wishing not to impose their will on one side or the other, to maintain balance and to not upset the natural order of the world. 

This went surprisingly well for a few millennia, that is, of course, if you ignore the sinking of Atlantis, the extinction of the dinosaurs, the Black Plague, the creation of the Lazarus Pits, Pompeii, to name a few completely egregious instances—not necessarily in order of course—and well, the point stands that it could have been astronomically worse. Until it was.  

One young mage and Guardian in training had caused the downfall of almost the entire Order of the Guardians. All the centuries of history, teachings, artifacts and even the people at the head temple, were lost to the calamity. Dozens of Miraculous Boxes were lost, destroyed in the fray. The Kwamis themselves were relatively unaffected, being immortal and all, but the magical jewelry binding them to the earth were broken, thus those Kwamis were lost to mankind once again. Only one singular box, and the young mage himself, survived. The new Guardian of one miraculous box was left to scour the earth in solitude. Well, about as much solitude one could have with 17 pocket gods as company. The fact that the only box that survived was missing two more miraculouses caused the already stressed guardian to grey further. But that tidbit of information would be a problem for later. And for someone else entirely too. Oh joy.

But before that sequence of events, aptly named “Marinette’s Trial by Fire,” however, the young guardian had a couple more life mistakes to make before he reached his internal quota apparently. Rather than travel to another sector of the Order on the other side of the earth, this young mage stumbled upon another organization, one similar in architecture and hierarchy but a pendulum swing in the total moral opposite. Yes, that’s right, the guardian found himself upon the League of Shadows, led by Ra’s Al Ghul in his endeavor of global cleansing; by acts of ecoterrorism, but who sweats the small stuff, right? There, the young guardian, who adopted the name of Wang Fu, met his first love Ming Hong and they had a son. The son had a daughter he named Mei. Now Mei was only a few weeks younger than Ra’s Al Ghul’s grandson, Damian. Now with an appropriate heir, and someone to procreate with said heir, Ra’s Al Ghul gained a special interest in the small Fu family that originally flew under the radar of the League. 

Now this is where things continue to go downhill, but not until much, much later in this story. Ra’s Al Ghul, despite his radical ambitions, was particularly good at playing the long game and understood when he couldn’t accomplish a task directly. This being said, he recognized that, due to prolonged exposure to the Lazarus Pits, his soul could not bear the strain of being a wielder of a miraculous and so he waited. Waited until a suitable heir was sired and could copulate with an heir to the guardian of the miraculous box, desiring to create a bloodline of genetically suitable successors and wielders who were loyal to him and his cause. 

Ra’s ordered for the Fu family to have a place on his court and ordered for Mei Fu to be trained in mastering the secrets of the miraculous. And master she did. By age 6 she was fluent in the coded language of the magical text, or as fluent a 6 year old can be in any language, and she had mastered 7 out the 17 miraculouses. By age 10 she was as skilled as the grandson of the Demon Head in combat and could handle simultaneous wear of 3 miraculouses. Her training, however, had to be put on hold as somebody thought usurping the Demon Head was of the utmost importance that glorious Tuesday and staged a coup. She wished Deathstroke had lost more than an eye that day, but a girl can dream she supposes. Mei and her grandfather were separated from the rest of the League and journeyed west. Somehow they ended up in Paris, France. After one too many run ins with the authorities, Mei was removed from her grandfather, who was deemed too unfit to support her. It was a miracle he wasn’t deported. 

Mei was put into protective custody where she resided until she was 13. Recently adopted, and thoroughly done with the plebeians of her daily encounters, Mei Fu became Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of the best bakers in Paris. All was well and good for the new Dupain-Cheng until the start of the new school year. 

She met her grandfather again. And apparently he had a job for her and her soon to be new partner.

Hawkmoth, that bitch, had somehow acquired the two last surviving miraculouses and the only surviving grimoire and thought domestic terrorism was on the agenda for the next few years. Why? Because investing in a family therapist was too much of an inconvenience for local recluse, Gabriel McFucking Agreste, Marinette would shortly learn. 

After dealing with all of that and juggling between her reignited guardian training, and ‘normal’ girl life—because her parents don’t know that she’s a magical girl in the making—, Marinette was ready to sleep for a thousand years. Or commit murder. Whichever gave her enough serotonin to complete her current passion project. But, alas, no rest for the totally-over-it or however that saying goes. Because after declaring Paris safe once again, sending off her brother-in-arms, Adrien Agreste, to family in London (marginally decent but anything beats the abusive prick of a sperm donor), in waltz one drunken John Constantine.

Ah yes. Him. That absolute bastard who doesn’t deserve nice things in life. That guy.

This unpleasantry approached Master Fu and Marinette, who has been regulated to errand-girl in lieu of training, with a job that he proclaimed that only one blessed with magic, and specifically NOT connected to the Justice League could accomplish. Apparently, a group called the Cult of the Kobra resided on Santa Prisca and was in possession of a dangerous magical artifact that had been the backbone of their organization for years. Constantine came to them asking them for assistance in retrieving it as the Justice League could not interfere in the Caribbean due to new UN legislation. It was a mission of utmost urgency for he feared the cult leader, Kobra himself, was planning on enacting a ritual that could bring calamity to Earth. Which is just what the doctor ordered. Not. In exchange, he agreed to add to her magical training as while master Fu was good, he was still young when he ran away from his problems the first time and thus was limited in his magical knowledge.

That was three months ago. Three months of planning, training, and convincing her parents that letting her go on an extended retreat for an undetermined amount of time with her mostly absent biological grandfather was totally reasonable for the seventeen year old to do. Like, come on. She’s almost old enough to drink, almost ready for university and has been praised for her independence and self-sufficiency for years. She’ll be fine is what she told her parents and she was almost able to convince herself of that too. She would be perfectly fine. Right?

Wrong.

Marinette was anything but fine. She was stressed, she was tired and she was abso-fucking-lutely pissed at anything that even breathed in her direction. Why? Well that brings us back to the beginning of the story when everything on this mission did not go according to plan. So here she was along what was once upon a time the eastern coastline of Santa Prisca. Oh and look. The Junior Justice League has arrived.

Purrrrfect. 

Some one asked for a taglist. Ask and ye shall receive

@deathwishy @neakco  @ virtualreading  @f-rget-lt @your-resident-chicken-nugget

[itsthemoofacewriting]

Just for a while

So I actually used this to get through my writer’s block and take a break from my other WIPs. Before I knew it, it was complete, so I figured I’d share it. It’s a bit drabble-ish and incredibly self-indulgent.

I tried to watch the film to get some of the scenes right, but then I kept getting swept away in the film, so there’s going to be to be differences. Then again, they weren’t a couple in the film, and I’ve added some scenes, so does it really matter?

Summary: Zoro was weak with children, Chopper was a prime example of that, and Nami was no exception. Film Z. Rating: T. Some suggestiveness. 

This can also be found on AO3 and FFN. 

Enjoy!

Zoro’s ears were ringing, screeching in protest at the loud noise from the blast, and his back hurt from being hurled across the ship. It was dull but it was there. But it reminded him that they weren’t in the clear yet and his reflexes were kicking in, grabbing for his swords, or at least trying to. His body was bound in thick green ropes that didn’t given an inch no matter how much he protested.

Smoke filled his nose, and he gave up on escaping for the time being to take in the view. It was hard to believe he’d managed to ignore it for this long. The ship was on fire, black smoke billowing from what seemed like every surface. The galley was gone, completely blown open and surrounded by flames licking their way further across the ship.

The scene was horrific. Sunny was in trouble.

It was hard to decide what to focus on first in all the chaos, but he quickly found something that made his stomach drop.

Luffy being crushed in a Z’s hand.

He looked weak and defeated, it was an awful look on him. Something that had Zoro wanting to grab for his swords to rectify the scene immediately.

Goddamn it. He needed out.

Like a dirty tissue, Luffy was thrown to the floor, apparently not worthy of being killed in a fight. Something Zoro knew would grate him, but at least there wasn’t an immediate threat of a dead Captain.

His gaze flitted quickly around to check everyone else was accounted for and somewhat okay. It stopped on what he presumed was Nami only a few feet in front of him. It looked like her, the orange hair a dead giveaway… but smaller. Much, much smaller. What the hell had been happening out here before? Frowning, he stored that thought away for later.

Shit. He needed to move. Now. He had to do something, they were in trouble and there he was just sitting around. Movement caught his eye and he saw the Cook also bound, struggling to be freed.

Shit, shit, shit.

Now it was really bad, all three of them were down.

Nami caught his struggling and ran over to him before he could call over to her. Her small hands were trying to pry the green vines away from him.

“Do I want to know why you’re a child?” His eyebrows were furrowed as he got a proper look at her. It was Nami alright.

“Not the time. Later,” she huffed, small hands gripping the vines and yanking on them, but they wouldn’t budge. She wasn’t strong enough right now.

And it wasn’t the time it seemed. Because the ship exploded around them as cannon balls relentlessly fired at them and it didn’t help Nami who was still attempting to free him. She was almost knocked off her feet when the ship was hit again and if she went overboard, no one would be there the dive after her. He was getting more and more frustrated by the second.

When he looked to his left, Chopper wasn’t getting much further with the cook.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Usopp, Franky and Brook were just as trapped as him.

And Luffy was furious. It was rare to see his Captain like that. He was back on his feet, quickly recovering, and hanging off the side of the ship, snarling at them to come back. Robin was doing her best to talk him down, but he wasn’t listening and Zoro could feel his already thin temper about to snap. At everything. It had all gone so wrong so quickly.

Him and the cook were useless.

Luffy couldn’t see past his own anger.

Nami was a child.

They’d lost.

But not everything.

Just as he was about to bark at Luffy to get his head on straight, Robin finally got through to him after another cannonball hit their ship and almost capsized them.

Luffy was in action then, freeing Franky, as Robin worked on securing herself and the others.

“Hold on,” Zoro commanded, now looking back down at Nami, who in all the chaos still hadn’t given up. Franky was just about to fire up a coupe de burst and the last thing he needed was her falling off the ship. Especially when he couldn’t go after her.

It didn’t take long for her to understand before she was nodding back and clinging to him as they sailed through the air away from the attack. He was too tied up to properly hold onto her, no matter how much he wanted to.

.

.

.

The mood was off when they landed on the first island available. Luffy’s face solemn as he stood with Franky assessing the damage to the ship. The rest of the crew left them, gathering instead across the water from the ship to discuss what had happened and what their next move was going to be.

He hadn’t been incredibly involved in the discussion; he’d been too focused on Nami. It was unsettling. She was still exactly the same, bold and bossy, but instead it was all packaged into a miniature body.

There was no way around it, she was cute, and it left him in a strange position. Normally he’d snark her, draw her into an argument, especially when she was somewhat upset, to take her mind off of it, but now he didn’t feel like he could. It was almost as bad as picking on Chopper.

Nami said something about being returned to normal, standing up outraged and he should have known that the moment the cook opened his mouth he would be annoyed.

Gritting his teeth, Zoro could feel his patience dangerously thinning. He was used to the idiot cook spouting off nonsense to Nami and that hadn’t changed when they had got together. Normally he’d just ignore it, it was hardly like he was a threat, and she could handle herself. But today already hadn’t been a good day and when the pervert started talking about her body, he was ready to fight.

Unable to resist, he uttered out an irritated, “Creep,” and that seemed to do it. The focus was on him then and Nami started to look comfortable again. As soon as the shoving starting, she was breaking them apart, just before a full-on brawl could start.

Disgruntled, Zoro looked across the waters to see Luffy peeling away from Franky with the old man and when they saw each other, Luffy nodded at him. That was his cue. Zoro stood and motioned with his head for them to start walking.

He slowed for a second, waiting for Nami to catch up before continuing forward. He was only a few strides in when he noticed she was struggling to keep up, stuck in a weird running walk pace. He laughed to himself, she was tiny now, her previously long legs were now replaced with stumps and she was too proud to say anything.  

He had the urge to take her hand and the sudden thought surprised him. They’d never held hands before this, unless it was crowded or she was guiding him somewhere, they were fairly low key with their relationship unless alone. Yet the urge to do it was strong, and really, he knew why.  

When she stumbled, he was bending down without a second thought to pick her up and her legs sitting around his waist on the side of his body. She weighed almost nothing, and, to his surprise, she didn’t resist. Which was fine, great even, because then he didn’t have to think about scrapped knees, but the cooing that started from behind them made the back of his neck feel hot. Zoro wasn’t sure if it was directed at him or Nami… or both of them. But that didn’t stop the red from spreading to his ears.

He had no idea what possessed him to do that, they weren’t very big on public displays of affection normally but Nami didn’t complain as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and determinedly looked everywhere but at his face.

Cute.

He was loath to admit it, lest he be compared to the pervert, but like this she was. He tried to shrug it off, ignoring the loud whispers from behind and act casual.

The next couple of days were going to be hard.

.

.

.

Zoro didn’t like it.

The older man that had been talking to Luffy and Franky had told them all about Z whilst giving them food and drinks. But that wasn’t the problem. They needed to gather more information about Z’s whereabouts, which again, wasn’t a problem but it had led to Nami announcing it would be down to her, Robin, Usopp and Chopper.

Apparently Zoro and the others were too obvious. Liabilities she’d called them. He wasn’t sure how that logic worked out, when they were going with a walking, talking reindeer that could changed forms at whim.

“I should go with you,” Zoro said, watching as Nami tied her sandal.

The group going out to get information already had their change of clothes and were getting changed in a secluded alleyway away from any nosey passers-by’s. She’d already changed into her dress and sandals, all that was left was her hair. They’d be going their separate ways after that.

Nami sighed, eyebrows furrowing as she looked up at him. “We’ve been over this, you’re too obvious.”

“And a talking reindeer and long nose isn’t?” It was a good point.

“Usopp’s great at sneaking and Chopper’s barely noticeable with how tiny he is now.”

“And if things go wrong?” He didn’t want to entertain that thought, but he still did. The island was swarming with marines.

“We have Robin and Usopp, it’s fine,” Nami assured. “Also, it won’t go wrong, I’m great at this.” She was trying to tie her hair into a ponytail but with how much hair she had and her little arms, she struggled.

He knew she was right; she was great at this. She did it long before he came around to back her up. Except she wasn’t herself right now, she was a miniature version of herself.

Zoro held his hand out, silently asking for the hair tie. “You’re not yourself right now.” He gathered her hair, his hands smoothed over her hair a few times to ensure no bumps, he didn’t need her nagging him, and looped the band around a few times.

She checked his work, hands roaming over her hair, searching for bumps that weren’t there before giving the ponytail a tug to tighten it. She didn’t praise him for his efforts, instead she dropped two golden bands in hands and turned to face him. That was his praise, he figured as he picked the bands to start working on the front.

Nami stood patiently in the gap between his legs as he worked. “And that’s exactly why we don’t need you and the others attracting attention.”

She had him there. Brook drew attention because, well, skeleton, that didn’t need to be explained. Zoro and Luffy were too well known, even without his swords and Luffy’s hat, but not so much Sanji…

“Take the cook then.” He was an idiot and had especially got on his nerves today, but he was strong and somewhat reliable.

“And at the first sight of a woman? We don’t have time to find him or reign him in.”

Screw that, he was good for nothing right now.

There was nothing more he could say. He didn’t mean to sound like he doubted his own crewmates, they were strong, and time and time again they’d proved that. But they weren’t their selves right now, they weren’t a whole. They had two much younger members than normal with an island full of marines.

Nami was a magnet for trouble at the best of times and the love cook was the least of his problems. It was common knowledge what could happen to children out in the new world. All it would take was one skilled person, or a moment of distraction and she’d be gone without a word.

The thought of that happening had a knot forming in his stomach and he was about to say that he was going whether they liked it or not, until Nami rested a small hand on his forearm and smiled up at him reassuringly. And like the sap that he was, he melted instantly, all the fight bleeding out of him.

He wasn’t sure if she knew of his weakness yet, but something told him she’d realise soon enough.

.

.

.

“Do you know how close we were to leaving you behind?” Nami berated, arms angrily crossed in front of her as she stood before him, not caring that the train was moving. Except her anger didn’t have the same effect as it usually did in her childlike form.

“You’ve said about five times already,” Zoro replied tiredly.  

Their day had not improved at all. From the information group coming back with a hoard of marines on their tail, to Z shooting Luffy and the four of them almost being engulfed by lava whilst Nami and the others waited anxiously at the train station. Despite her anger now, when she’d seen them running towards the train, lava steadily overtaking the island just behind them, she’d looked relived.

He suspected Luffy still being passed out was to blame for her particularly sour mood, all the crew were worried in the packed train.

“Because you still don’t look like you get it.”

Naturally an angry child telling off an adult attracted attention, although Zoro didn’t really care about that, he just shrugged off the looks and focused on Nami. But when a man opposite from them gave her an appraising look that lingered far longer than acceptable, it put his back up. Zoro sent the man a scathing look that had him shrinking away as he scooped Nami onto his lap.

“I do. We made you worry,” he said, matter-of-factly, not taking his eye off the man until he got up to find somewhere else to sit.

The anger dispersed then, her frame relaxing on his lap as she got comfortable. “I’m going to go grey early; I swear.” She shook her head, but her tone was fonder than anything else.

They lulled into silence, swaying with the movements of the train, and letting the murmur from other passengers fill the quiet. Nami’s gaze slowly took in everyone, from strangers to the crew, one by one until it landed back on Zoro.

“It’s a shame you don’t dress like this more often,” Nami sighed, small hands playing with the collar of his neckline.

“Tch, not worth it. Too many layers.” He was already itching to take off the shirt. “Besides, I had a jacket on this morning.”

“Which is ruined now, do you know how hard it is to find a nice jacket that you’ll wear?”

“Because you insist that I wear a top underneath, pick either a top or a jacket, I’ll only wear one,” he told her, but the likelihood was he’d end up removing that too.

Whilst she was fussing over his jacket, trying to wipe some dirt off the fabric, her arm caught his attention. There were faint marks starting to bloom on her upper arm. He gently caught her arm and turned it to get a better look.

It was finger marks, four clustered together and a single one opposite.

Someone had grabbed her.

He’d guessed something had gone wrong earlier, based on the hoard of marines that had chased them all the way back to the rest of the crew, but he’d just thought a marine had finally recognised one of them. Not that she’d been grabbed and almost hauled way. It was exactly what he’d been worried about.

He looked at her sharply and she looked back at him warily.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” He’d focus on her first, he couldn’t exactly do anything with his anger when the person that’d hurt her was long gone.

“Don’t worry about it, I made it worse by resisting.” And Nami must have sensed it was the wrong thing to say because she quickly added, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

That didn’t help his anger, but she was right. She told him Robin came after her as soon as she’d seen, and it soothed him at least. Another example of how dependable his crewmates were.

He rubbed gently along her arm, smoothing over the marks and he wasn’t sure if it was for her benefit or his.

“You’ve been very affectionate,” she said observationally.

And there it was. His hand stuttered on her arm for a second before he caught himself and continued, trying not to react to what she’d said. It’d taken far longer than he’d thought for someone to say something, but there was nothing he could say in his defence and the last thing he was going to do was agree, so he stayed silent instead. Not that that would help him.

Nami smirked up at him as he refused to make eye contact or speak, but that didn’t stop her from continuing, “Who’d have believed the fearsome pirate hunter was soft around all children. I thought it was just Chopper.”

“I’m not, we’re together, it makes sense.” That probably didn’t sound appropriate to anyone eavesdropping, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“You don’t normally hold my hand or pick me up… And you’ve been much more obliging.”

“It was convenient. You’ve got stumpy legs and I’ve got places to be,” he easily lied.

She didn’t look convinced. “And now?”

He had nothing to say to that. He was the one that had dragged her onto his lap, his arms still firmly wrapped around her to ensure she didn’t fall if there was a sudden movement… and to let people know she wouldn’t be an easy grab. He tried not to think about what a sap he’d looked like since she’d been turned into a child, but his mind still unhelpfully played it on a reel. How he’d caved whenever she so much as looked at him, offered to do things for her without her having to nag him, didn’t argue with her.

How embarrassing. His ears burned.

“It’s cute that you tried to hide it.”

It was the glint in her eye that gave her away that made him realise.

“You knew?” He asked, but he already knew the answer.

“I had a hunch, I knew from the moment you first picked me up,” she smiled up at him evilly, all innocence gone from her face.

She was the devil. Mislabelled into an adorable, tiny package.

“It’s almost worth staying like this, you’re as easy as Sanji-kun,” she looked downright smug and there was no doubt in his mind that she was imagining having the both of them wrapped around her finger.

That had him gritting his teeth in disgust, to be compared to him. He was about to say something caustic, just to wipe that smug grin off her face, until her eyes turned large, and she looked up at him remorsefully, lip quivering.

She wasn’t sorry at all, he knew that, but those glossy eyes stopped the foul words in their tracks. He huffed, annoyed, and looked the other way as Nami laughed at him. But he didn’t remove her from his lap.

Robin gave him an amused look.

.

.

.

She found him in the crow’s nest late in the day, head popping up through the entrance and pulling herself up when she saw him.

“How’s Luffy?” He asked, as she walked towards him.

“Quiet, but he’ll be alright.”

The mood on board had been weird since they’d left Piriodo, everyone subdued, and it was mainly due to Luffy’s lack of cheerful energy. Everyone had pretty much kept to themselves since they set off. It’d be back to normal tomorrow, after everyone had slept it off.

She stood in front of him from where he was sat on the bench and he braced himself when he caught the look on her face. He didn’t like it.

“Am I still allowed to sit in your lap? Or was that offer only there when I was a child?” She teased, eyes dancing in amusement.

Yup. He knew it. He rolled his eye; he’d be putting up with those jabs for a while.

She took his silence and sour expression as affirmation to her first question, but instead of sitting on his lap like she had back on the train, she straddled his lap, a leg going either side.

It was a fitting example really, of the difference between her as a child and being back to her usual age. The occasional glimpses of innocence on her face as a child were long gone, along with the soft rounded features of youth that had turned him into a fool. In its place were sharper angles and cunning eyes that displayed a coquettish expression that had a very different effect on him- one that made his blood heat for her.

As adorable as she was as a child, he’d missed her. He’d missed this version. No matter how infuriating she could be.

“Happy to have me back?” She questioned, but her tone suggested she already knew the answer.

His arms settled dangerously low on her hips and his smirk was challenging as he replied, “Now I can argue with you and not feel bad.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she said and laid on her best doe-eyed look. Her eyes shifted in an instant, from seductive to innocent, all glossy and defenceless, something that didn’t fit the current position they were currently in.  

He’d never let her know that even as an adult, that look still had him. Perhaps in a different way now, but he’d keep it hidden through grimaces and sharp words, otherwise he’d never know peace again.  

“You’ll have to try harder than that,” he snorted, hands pulling her body tighter against his and the time for bickering had come to an end.

Their kiss was easy, almost leisurely, as they basked in the feeling of each other’s lips, of being back to normal. Although it wasn’t something that stayed that way for long. Gradual pecks started to linger, searching for something more as lips slid against the others and closed mouths parted as hands moved with intent, to places far from innocent.

There was no rush, they had all evening without disruptions, so that was why he pulled away to say:

“Besides, I prefer this angry, nagging version.”

What he hadn’t missed was how strong her punches were.

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

I mean, jokes on Zoro, he’s always been wrapped around her finger. He just put up less of a fight when she’s small.

In case I go quiet again, I’ll leave you with this- I’ve been writing something that I’m very excited about and can’t wait for you all to see, but until then, enjoy this ZoNami crumb.

As always, forgive any errors.

Thanks for reading.

[abbacchiosbelt]

people misinterpreting characters is one of my biggest pet peeves ever. I really liked how you brought light to the fact that DIO is not as deep as the fandom makes him seen and Bruno is not a gold hearted ’mom’.

what other characters do you think are heavely misinterpreted? I’d like to hear your opinions. some characters that are heavely put ooc by the fandom (in my opinion) are Jotaro, Giorno, Johnny and Gyro.

Yeah, while everyone is free to their own interpretations, those are two that just really personally bother me. I don’t like to straight-up accuse someone on being wrong, but at the very least, I think the ‘mama Bruno’ interpretation is wrong and bad, lmao.

As for the other characters you mentioned? Hmm. Here are my opinions - as always, y’all are allowed to agree/disagree/have your own thoughts on them.

Jotaro - I don’t like seeing him interpreted as an uncaring piece of shit. Now, he does act like a shithead at the beginning of part 3 - calling your mom a ‘bitch’ is a shit move and he deserves to be called out for that. Just because he does good things doesn’t excuse his poor behavior. That being said, I think he’s a pretty complex character. He’s only 18 (after the retcon) when Part 3 takes place. Not only is he tasked with traveling cross-country to save his mom, but he’s forced to take on the Joestar family burden without even really knowing about it. He has to deal with three of his friends dying brutally and is forced to kill an ancient vampire that killed his great-great-grandfather. He also thinks for a brief moment that Joseph was killed by Dio - that’s a lot for a teenager. There’s no doubt in my mind that Jotaro suffers some form of PTSD.

He gets married, has a child, and then is forced into another dangerous situation thanks to his misfortune of being born into the Joestar family. It could be argued that he didn’t have to go to Morioh, but who else is there? Joseph is too old. Kakyoin and Avdol are dead, and Polnareff isn’t around at the time - so it has to be him. Now, I am not excusing the way he treated his wife and daughter at all. That’s all on Jotaro and his poor communication skills. I don’t think for one second he wanted to leave them like he did, but... It happened, and he couldn’t fix it.

One thing I don’t like is people saying we should forgive Jotaro for what he did to Jolyne. We can empathize with his situation, but it’s up to Jolyne to forgive him - it’s unfair for us as the audience to say she should have been more understanding. She was a child abandoned by her father - Jotaro could have handled things differently, and I think that there’s enough unsaid context to imply that he does regret how he handled things. A bad father can still love his child. I don’t think Jotaro is a bad person at heart. He’s incredibly selfless, but that selflessness also led to hurting the people closest to him. TL;DR - Jotaro is pretty complex and there’s a lot to his character, but people tend to focus on one aspect of him.

Giorno - I love Giorno and think he was very underrated before Vento Aureo was animated. I think he’s still fairly underrated compared to the first 4 protagonists, simply because he expresses things in a much different manner. Giorno acts as a protagonist in theory, but he is not a good person and that’s what I love about him. It’s made extremely clear (some people miss this despite it being explicitly said by Koichi) that he’s a mix of Dio and Jonathan. The ruthlessness of Dio runs through his blood, but so does the kindness of Jonathan. 

Giorno is not boring. He is a calculating, cold, manipulative person. He is also an ambitious, caring, and highly-observant individual. Giorno is trained to hide his emotions, as per his abusive upbringing. Giorno’s smarts and capacity for observation are a core part of his character. He is quiet because of these traits, but I don’t think that makes him boring. I think it makes Giorno interesting and complex. A teenager joining the mafia and attempting a coup to take it over is... not exactly a normal thing. It’s what makes Giorno so scary. You know what he’s going to do next because he’ll tell you, but you won’t be able to stop him. And if you’re in his path? He doesn’t mind taking care of you. If you’re loyal, though, he’ll extend a gilded chain - the chain that makes him so intriguing to others, and the reason people are so eager to follow him.

Johnny - I know I just said I loved Giorno,  but I also really love Johnny. I don’t have as many thoughts as I really haven’t seen any conflicting popular interpretations of his character, but I’m sure they’re out there. To me, Johnny is very important. He’s outward with his depression, his self-hatred, his fear, his cowardice - it’s a big change from the previous protagonists. Despite this, he overcomes and finds his strength. I guess one thing I disagree with is the notion that Johnny is ‘whiny’ or ‘weak.’ I won’t spoil too much, but just like the other main JoJos, I think Johnny is a very complex character that Araki clearly crafted with care.

Gyro - I feel similarly about Gyro as I do with Johnny - I haven’t seen too many confliciting interpretations of him. I do think Gyro is more ruthless than some people paint him as. He’s not nice - he even says it! That doesn’t mean he can’t be silly or absurd. There’s a lot of facets to Gyro’s personality that make him the perfect companion for Johnny. (Or BF, hehehehe)

[maximumphilosopheranchor]

Hello

I was wondering if you knew anything about Philips relationship with his half brother John of Austria.

Hello!

Their relationship was... interesting.

Philip only found out about his existence after their father's death and first met him after his arrival to Spain. Philip acknowledged him as a brother, showed affection and was very generous to him. On their first meeting Philip openly hugged and kissed him and made him Knight of the Golden Fleece. He gave him the family title "of Austria", household and place at court alongside Philip's own son Don Carlos and Philip's nephew Alessandro Farnese, later duke of Parma. He was treated fully as the family member and became a prominent member of Philip's court. John of Austria was entrusted with carrying Philip's firstborn daughter Isabel Clara Eugenia to baptism. He was the one who warned Philip about Don Carlos’s plans to escape to Vienna, and his assassination attempt by Don Carlos were reasons that triggered Philip to lock up his son. Don John also was the only illegitimate Habsburg family member whom Philip buried in El Escorial near their father.

Furthermore, John of Austria wasn't a merely decorative figure, Philip appointed him to very important tasks - he was a military commander to suppress the Moriscos revolt in Andalusia in 1568-1569, he commanded the fleet of the Holy League at Lepanto in 1571 against the Ottomans and gained a spectacular victory (that earned him international fame), and in 1576 he was appointed governor-general in the Netherlands which, however, turned out to be a bad decision.

Although Philip entrusted him all these important missions it seems that Philip thought that his brother was rash and needed to be watched. Thus, giving him supreme command to put down the Morisco revolt Philip paired him with Philip’s old close associate Luis de Requesens and urged him always to consult him. And there were reasons for it because Jonh of Austria used to disobey Philip's direct orders and sometimes it made problematic situations even more problematic and greatly frustrated Philip.

A real discord between them began over Don John’s appointment as governor-general of the Netherlands. Why did Philip believe that Don John was the right person to deal with the huge mess that had developed in the Netherlands is a mystery to me although I understand his reasoning that only his family member possessed the necessary authority for this office and Don John had military experience and reputation. But Don John didn’t want that post and accepted it only reluctantly and on certain conditions. He demanded freedom of action, as much troops and money sent as he asked for and, more importantly, to carry out the conquest of England. For Don John was quite ambitious and dreamed of becoming the king of England! The plan was proposed by some bunch of English and Irish Catholic exiles and the pope and envisaged that Don John with an army should invade England, liberate Mary Queen of Scots, depose Elizabeth I, marry Mary Queen of Scots and reinstate Catholicism in England (it was assumed that the English Catholics will raise up and assist him). Don John was very excited about all this but he needed Philip’s backing. Philip promised him all he wanted but once he arrived in the Netherlands Philip issued a new set of instructions to him that ordered him to pacify the Netherlands, restore peace and order and only then to think about conquering England because for Philip at this point the priority was the pacification of the Netherlands (remember the Dutch revolt!). In short, Philip tricked his brother into accepting the post. When Don John received the instructions he was angered, furthermore the things in the Netherlands were going bad for Philip (the unpaid Spanish army had mutinied and sacked Antwerp killing thousands of people, only one province remained loyal to Philip) and the situation demanded sensitive treatment. Don John though continued to focus on bringing the plan to invade England (Enterprise of England) to fruition and, according to Geoffrey Parker, in that he had two allies – his own secretary Juan of Escobedo and Philip’s secretary of state Antonio Pérez who at this point handled all correspondence between Philip and Don John (which apparently was something that Don John insisted upon, normally this correspondence would go through the hands of Gabriel de Zayas, Philip’s another secretary who was responsible for the affairs of Northern Europe). The actions of this trio - Don John, Escobedo and Pérez - , according to Geoffrey Parker, were directed to the conclusion of peace in the Netherlands on whatever price to clear the way for the Enterprise. And at first it seemed they were quite successful at that. In 1577 Don John signed an agreement (the Perpetual Edict) with the States General of the Netherlands, organized withdrawal of the Spanish troops and the provinces of the Netherlands recognised Philip’s sovereignty… that is, except Holand and Zealand which were led by William of Orange and which were not represented in the negotiations between Don John and the States General. Don John tried to persuade William of Orange to accept the agreement but the latter wasn’t in peace with its conditions and refused, not least because of the encouragement from Elizabeth I who thanks to the Dutch efforts who had intercepted, deciphered and passed to the English Don John’s letters to Philip had found out about Don John’s invasion plans. Don John then lost control. Still determined to carry out the plan to invade England he decided to raise troops for the Enterprise in Germany for the money that was granted to this task by the papacy, called back the departed Spanish troops, sent Escobedo to Philip with “orders to secure either the return of the foreign troops or permission for him to return to Spain” so that he could join to the expedition to England that according to his new plan was to be led by one English catholic exile Thomas Stukely (even if Philip didn’t participate) and then he declared war on William of Orange without waiting Philip’s permission. Philip was shocked and outraged about all this but eventually decided to resume war. Meanwhile the States General ignoring Don John invited William of Orange to Brussels and together they made new demands. With Spanish troops back and under his command Don John attacked Brussels, made William of Orange to flee, and demanded to Philip more troops and more money.

One thing that should be mentioned now here is that both secretaries - Escobedo and Pérez - had covert dealings between them behind Philip’s back and Perez had a habit to manipulate with information, like withholding important information from Philip in promoting his own self-professed goals that amounted to treason. But Escobedo and Pérez fell out, and fearing that Escobedo might denounce his activities to Philip Pérez by fabricating documents persuaded Philip that Don John on Escobedo’s urgings had plotted not only to conquer England but also to return to Spain to make a coup against Philip. And so Philip ordered Pérez to murder Escobedo – or it’s what Geoffrey Parker writes, all of this is according to him. There are other versions on these events and on why Pérez wanted to get rid of Escobedo too. Some say that Pérez didn’t work in concert with Don John and Escobedo, that Pérez didn't like their warlike ways, that he didn't want war to be resumed in the Netherlands, that he had his own idea how the matters should be arranged in the Netherlands, that he had covert dealings and secret communications with the Dutch rebels and Escobedo knew it and could use it against him. Who knows, it's one big muddle.

Anyway, Escobedo was assassinated on 31 March 1578. Don John still in the Netherlands demanded the murder to be avenged. Philip finally decided to recall him from the Netherlands but it was too late – Don John died of typus on 1 October 1578 completely failed his mission. Later Philip found out that Pérez had lied to him regarding Escobedo and Don John, and ordered his arrest.

So yeah Philip and Don John’s relationship by the end was pretty strained. Also, to think about it Don John character-wise reminds me of Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex. I think their personalities were quite similar, also both were handsome, popular and had many love affairs. And when I was reading how Don John ran off from court to participate in the relief of Malta after Philip had turned down his request and Philip sent people to catch him and bring back it felt like reading about Elizabeth and Essex because they experienced exactly the same situation.

[another-rogue-trevelyan]

I did... something 😂

This is the first attempt I’ve made at writing fic for a couple other than Cullen and Evelyn. Somehow what was supposed to be a smutty one shot turned into a sexually charged sparring match. I think this will end up being the first half of a one shot. No lemons yet, but there will be!

This is untitled as of yet, and I just felt like sharing since this is the first I’ve ever written for Greedfall. Enjoy a preview of my first ever work for Kurt and Corinne De Sardet! Back to your regularly scheduled Dragon Age content soon 😂❤️

Corinne De Sardet hit the ground with a thud. She coughed as the dust kicked up around her and rolled to her side, rubbing gingerly at her tailbone.

“Your footwork is sloppy today, Greenblood. You’re lucky it’s me and not someone who really wishes you harm.” Kurt stood above her, his tricorn blocking the beating sun as he offered her a hand. Corinne begrudgingly accepted, her pride far more bruised than the darkening patches on her skin.

She retrieved her own fallen tricorn and returned it to her head, covering the worst of the mess of her disheveled braid. She did her best to wipe the dirt from her shirt and trousers. Her overcoat and ascot had been removed long prior in the midday heat.

She and Kurt had been at it for hours. Corinne felt stiff and store as she bent to retrieve her rapier, having been disarmed by her Master at Arms again.

He was right, and that only annoyed her more. She was sloppy today, clumsy even, and though it was just she and Kurt in the Coin Guard’s training yard, she felt embarrassed by her poor performance. Though she probably shouldn’t - Kurt was the first to ever put a sword in her hand. He had certainly witnessed worse performances.

That had been back in Serene, however, and things had changed a great deal since then. While Constantin had struggled even prior to his affliction to adjust to his new role as governor, Corinne had proved herself a capable diplomat. She had created allies in unlikely places, thwarted an attempted coup, and faced fearsome beasts without a second thought.

Why, then, couldn’t she concentrate on a simple sparring match?

The truth, though she hated to admit it, was that her mind muddled around Kurt as of late. What had started as an old childhood infatuation had become something else entirely upon their arrival in New Serene. Corinne was no longer the youth he had trained at the behest of her uncle, but the Legate of the Congregation. They had made painstaking discoveries together about each of their pasts, dismantled corruption within the Coin Guard and uncovered the truth of her roots.

Now, as beads of sweat dripped down her face, she knew how she had gotten so distracted. Kurt was looking at her again with that look - the one that excited and confused her and, ultimately, pissed her off.

That look was not the look of a teacher studying his student. When his eyes wandered over her, they were the eyes of a man drinking in the sight of a woman. Eyes that held a hint of curiosity, admiration, and - dare she think it - wanting.

But Kurt always put a stop to things before they could get any farther than uncomfortable stares, preferring instead to revert back to their old ways and ultimately making her feel utterly infantilized.

“Excellency?”

How long had she been staring? Corinne couldn’t be certain, but she was now very aware that she had been standing with her rapier aimed to the ground, staring awkwardly. She lifted the weapon in front of her, preparing to go again.

“‘Sloppy,’ is normally reserved for Constantin,” she said as they began to circle one another. They tested each other with a few swings, metal scraping together.

“Constantin is always sloppy. For you, on the other hand, this is unusual. Something on your mind, Greenblood?”

His sweaty face glistening in the afternoon heat, for one thing. Just what that glint in his eye indicated was truly going on in his head, for another. The ease with which is muscles moved as he swung his blade-

Wait.

Corinne jumped back too late, rapier once again flying from her grip as the point of Kurt’s blade pointed at her throat.

“I’ve… just had a lot to think over lately, is all.” She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the intensity with which he stared at her down his blade.

“I know things have been… a lot for you, lately. I understand why you’re distracted. But you can’t be fighting like this. You’ll get yourself killed.” He lowered his rapier and retrieved hers from the ground, holding it by the blade and extending the hilt toward her. “Again.”

Corinne huffed as she grasped the blade, then took up position for what must have been the hundredth time. Though this time she hadn’t been knocked on her ass, it was still just as embarrassing a loss.

“Kurt, clearly I’m useless today. Perhaps we should try again tomorrow. I’m sure I have enough bruises for one day.”

“Anyone who wants you dead won’t care if you’re distracted and bruised. I’m not letting you get yourself killed because you’re having an off day. I can’t always be there to watch your back. You need to be able to save yourself. Now raise your blade and try it again.”

She lunged toward him, but he easily parried the strike, which had been performed more in irritation than any thought that it may be a good idea.

“Still sloppy.” He advanced on her, and Corinne barely managed to swat away his strikes with her blade, stumbling backward on exhausted legs.

“Kurt…”

“Come on Greenblood, defend yourself! I know I taught you better than this! What would your uncle think of this performance?”

She swung hard, meeting Kurt’s blade with unexpected force and pushing him back. She advanced on the offensive, landing blow after blow as he frantically parried aggressive strikes.

“Corinne-“

His unusual use of her name did nothing to dissuade her assault as she hailed down upon him. She was an indomitable storm, striking mercilessly as Kurt did his best to block without harming her.

“Corinne, what are you-“

“Stop… treating me…. like a…. child!” she panted through her onslaught.

“I’m not!” Kurt yelled as their blades clashed. They pushed against one another, eyes meeting across the steel. “I’m treating you like someone I don’t want getting killed!”

“You’re talking to me the same way you did when I was fifteen! What are you going to do, tell on me to my uncle? Go ahead! He’s months away by sea!”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Kurt shoved hard, both of their blades swinging wildly to the side as they both stumbled backward. “I don’t understand why you’re so angry!”

“Because I am a grown woman, Legate of the Congregation of Merchants, and the only reason Constantin hasn’t destroyed the colony yet, and you’re talking to me like a teenager with her first blade!”

“Because you’re fighting like a teenager with her first blade!”

Blinded with rage, Corinne swung far too hard. Kurt seized the opportunity and used the force to disarm her again, but this time, as the rapier slid through the dirt, Corinne let the force of the motion take her as well. She crashed into Kurt, sending the two of them to the ground.

They tumbled in the dirt, hats flying and struggling for dominance as both refused to yield. Corinne was lighter and quicker and slipped out of his grasp a few times, but in the end Kurt was stronger. He flipped them as they brawled, pinning her wrists with his hands and her body with his own. She writhed beneath him for a few more moments but had no choice but to concede that he had beaten her.

They panted, gasping for breath as the dirt stuck to their sweat soaked forms. Kurt’s bright blue eyes searched her stormy gray ones for answers, confusion still evident on his face. He smelled of sweat and musk, his body readied in case she was preparing to strike at him again.

“What have I done to upset you so much, Greenblood?” he asked, still breathing hard. His hips were pressed into hers. Corinne struggled not to squirm.

“I am no longer a child,” she said simply. Kurt’s eyes flicked from her face to where her shirt had fallen slightly open and back, swallowing hard.

“I… know that, Excellency. I apologize.”

“I may have been your student, and I may be Legate, but I am still a woman.”

“I know.”

“I won’t be treated like a child.”

“I know.”

“After all we’ve been through-”

“I know.”

They remained that way in silence for… seconds? Minutes? Corinne couldn’t be sure, too distracted as she watched Kurt’s gaze wander from her eyes, to her lips, to her chest, still rising and falling deeply from the exertion. Eventually, Kurt seemed to realize the position they were in, and more importantly, where they were in such a position, and clambered to his feet.

“I… can I walk you home?” he asked awkwardly, helping her up and then gathering their hats.

“No. I think I can handle the walk from here up the street on my own, thank you.” She placed the hat on her head, uncaring that it was still covered in dirt, then grabbed the remainder of her belongings and turned to leave the training yard.

“That’s not what I-“

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Kurt.”

“Corinne!”

Though her name on his lips tugged at her heart, she didn’t wait to see if he had anything more to say.

Since this will be my last WIP of the year, I wanted to thank some friends I’ve made! @chaotic-citrus @hawkeish @dreamerlavellan @noire-pandora @kemvee @aspiritofcompassion @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold are just a few of the lovely people I’ve had the joy to find since starting this blog, and I see and appreciate your continued support. Thank you so much, and Happy New Year to all of you!

[downwiththeficness]

In the Bond-Chapter 3

Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.

Word Count: ~5,400

Warnings: Blood

A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.

Taglist: @symbiont13

Start from the beginning   Previous Chapter   Next Chapter   Read on AO3   Masterlist

Lilah deliberately did not take any care in how she dressed. She wore jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, same as she always did. Tennis shoes. Ponytail. Chapstick. Foregoing a purse, she slipped some cash and her cell phone into her pocket, refusing to look at herself in the mirror hanging on the far wall of her bedroom.

The room, itself, was small, with an en suite bathroom, tucked into the back of the restaurant. It was one of the only occupied rooms on the main floor as Lilah was one of the few people living there full time who could have windows. Her queen sized bed was pushed up against the far wall, covered in blankets and pillows.  Lilah had spent a very long time living in motel rooms, jumping from team to team, job to job. When she finally got a place where she felt comfortable enough to settle down, she realized how much a creature of comfort she actually was.

With her cut of every job she went on, Lilah made a single purchase towards her little sanctuary. Her most recent score was a candle that she hid behind a stack of books on the nightstand next to her bed. Caramel Macchiato. She’d picked it up in the store, inhaled, and felt something inside snap so hard that she had to buy it immediately. Lilah didn’t have the courage to burn it, too afraid the others would somehow figure it out. So, she would occasionally slip the top from the glass and take a breath before replacing it carefully. Her own little guilty pleasure.

Thinking that she couldn’t stall anymore, Lilah flicked off the light and headed out into the bar proper, noting that she was the last to arrive.

“Is this how you want to take a meeting with our mortal enemy?” Seth said as he shrugged on his coat.

Lilah glared, “I don’t want to take this meeting at all.  Kate’s right, though. You need a voice of reason in that room.”

The woman, herself, wasn’t present. Lilah hadn’t pressed her for any further details of her time spent possessed by an immortal being. Kate hadn’t offered, either. But, Lilah noted that Kate did look at her just a little differently from time to time. Something softer in her gaze. Something secret. Lilah took those looks and hid them away from prying eyes. She only hoped that the others were too preoccupied with their own shit to notice.

“Hey,” Richie cut in, “I can be a voice of reason.”

“You’re just as likely as he is to go in guns blazing,” Lilah responded as she walked decidedly past them and out into the night.

The sleek black car Seth had washed every weekend by one of the bar staff was parked haphazardly in the mostly empty lot, the bulk of their usual crowd not due for a few hours.  She opened the driver’s side door and shoved the seat forward, sliding in to the back of the coupe. Seth slapped at the seat, and Lilah pulled back so that it didn’t hit her in the knees. He dropped down into it and shut the door, Richie not far behind.

In the few days since the letter had arrived, Lilah had done a remarkable amount of research. Brasa had set up a base of operations that looked more or less permanent. What surprised her was how close it was to them, two hours’ drive through the desert. Like Seth and Richie, he’d purchased a bar as a front and was operating some sort of company from it. Trucks came in on Tuesdays, delivering product that was packed in large metal boxes. She never got a clear look at it, though she was tempted to send one of the culebras that was loyal to the Geckos out there to get a peek. She noted that culebras visited throughout the week en masse, a startlingly large number, given that the bar wasn’t even close to the nearest town. Some of them looked to be transient, but there were others that looked like they had settled in the region.

The product never left, though, which was weird. It came in, like clockwork, but nothing ever left. Lilah had followed one of trucks to a gas station and had gotten close enough to lay down a GPS tracker, but the thing had failed. She still couldn’t figure out why.

They weren’t using the normal methods for money laundering, either. The bar could be considered a cash establishment, but their bank accounts looked solid, at least on the surface.  If Lilah could get a good look at their books, she might be able to figure out how Brasa was supporting a business that was serving the majority of the culebra population outside of the Gecko stronghold at Jed’s.

“You’re awfully quiet,” came Richie’s voice, a teasing note beneath the words.

Lilah snapped out of her thoughts, looking at the back of his head, “I’m just thinking about how we’re going to approach this.”

Seth lifted a hand, forefinger stabbing at the air, “We’re going to let him talk. He’s got a plan, we’ll hear it, and then decide if we want to be a part of it.”

So, the plan they’d had at the beginning was still the plan.  That, at least, was comforting.

“And if we don’t?” she edged quietly.

He shrugged, “We get the hell out of there.”

Easier said than done. They were going in virtually blind. No idea of how many were inside, no idea of the firepower they might have, and only one way in or out.

“And if its a trap?”

Richie held up a pistol she knew had been hand crafted with specialized bullets that would take down a culebra, if fired at the heart. His smile was self-satisfied in the way that told her he’d forgotten that she was still human and very killable.

“We got back up.”

Lilah’s jaw worked, “You’ve got back up. I’ve got zilch.”

This was true. Lilah didn’t much like guns, but she carried them whenever they went out to do a job. She never recovered the gun Brasa had taken from her, and every pistol she’d fired since then hadn’t felt right. Her thigh felt bare without the holster, her body exposed. The rush order she’d put in with their local arms dealer for the exact same gun hadn’t yet arrived and she was too stubborn to bring a gun that didn’t even fit in her hand right. Her aim, already questionable, would be shit, anyways.

Seth made a derisive sound, leaning over to dig into a bag on the floorboard by Richie’s feet.

“You know, I could get that for you,” Richie drawled. Lilah knew that tone, a soft needling that he sometimes resorted to when he wanted to get a rise out of his brother. It was an attempt to lighten the mood. An attempt that did not work.

“I got it,” Seth grunted as he righted himself, frowning.

Through the seats, he handed Lilah a knife tucked into a sheath, “Take that. At least its something.”

Lilah ran her hand over it, the handle was intricate silver, the leather worn but still in good condition. There were little straps that she could affix to her forearm so that she could hide the weapon with her sleeve.

Carefully, she buckled the knife in place, pulling her sleeve down over it and holding her arm aloft to ensure it was as concealed as it could be. Lilah wasn’t much good in a fight, but she knew one or both of them would cover her while she ran.  It was a testament to how fucked they thought this might go that they’d even brought her along. She was a good talker, far better than either of them. If they were actually going to broker peace, she’d need to work as a lead.

When they arrived, Lilah stared at it. The parking garage was the only way in or out. The entrance was wide enough that trucks could back right up to drop doors, unload, and then drive right back out again. Seth pulled in, spun the car around, and backed into a parking spot with a clear view of the exit. At least he was being careful. This boded well for whatever happened next. She glanced at the back of his head. He was sober, too, which also gave them a leg up in this mess. Drunk or high, Seth couldn’t be controlled. Sober, at least she had a chance.

Lilah waited for Seth to step out of the car, taking his hand as helped her up. He pulled her close, leveling a serious look at her.

“First sign of trouble, you run. Richie and I can handle ourselves, but you run. Got it?”

He’d said the same thing on their first job, robbing a minor drug dealer to get some extra cash for inventory at the bar. Lilah smiled and said the same thing that she’d said to him all those months ago.

“Duly noted, boss.”

He looked at her another moment longer, then nodded and let her go, shutting the car door and joining his brother near the front end.

“Lilah, entrance?”

She nodded towards an elevator, “Only way in is through there.  No stairs down, I checked.”

On cue, the doors opened and a man in a three piece suit stepped out. The suit was immaculately tailored, a soft baby blue that was accented by the purple of his button up and tie. Lilah scanned him—Rolex, Italian leather shoes, what looked like a real diamond in the tie clip.  The whole outfit screamed money in a way that was just this side of ostentatious. She caught the pinky ring—the other side of ostentatious, then.

“Mr. Gecko, Mr. Gecko,” he looked at Lilah, “Ms. McNamara.”

Well, shit.

She knew she’d only given Brasa her first name, but here this guy was, calling her by her last. Lilah frowned at him. She wasn’t the only one who had done her research.

“Who the fuck are you?”

She almost made a sound of censure at the bite in Seth’s tone, but they were already moving. The brothers stepped in front of her, working as a unit. Richie put his hands in his pockets, and she knew he was casting the man a hard look. Seth’s arms were at his sides, but his coat was unbuttoned so that he could get at his firearm faster.

“You gonna answer?”

The man, shorter than both brothers, shorter than Lilah (even though she was tall for a woman), was effortlessly cool, “I am Javier. Lord Brasa has asked that I bring you to the conference room.”

Lord Brasa, Lilah scoffed to herself. Fucking pretentious fucks.

“Well,” Seth prompted with a flicking gesture of his hand, “Lead the way.”

Javier smiled, fingers touching the button of his jacket nearest to the lapel, “Of course. If you please.”

The elevator doors were still open, the carriage looming in front of them. Lilah resisted the urge to touch the knife strapped to her forearm as she followed all three men inside. The floors were marble, the fixtures glinting with gold. More money screaming at her. Where did it come from? How were they running their scheme?

There was a ding and the door opened to a dimly lit bar. The tables, the bar top, the stage, everything was cast in red glow. It muted the dark of the wood, softened every edge in a way that made the room blur in a dreamy way. Lilah kept close to her friends, moving through the room to the back, where Javier opened a door.

The hallway was just as dark as the room behind them. Neither of the two men in front of her hesitated, so Lilah continued following, flinching when the door closed behind her. Javier led them through a few turned to a nondescript door, which he opened, gesturing for them to enter.

Catching the way Javier looked closely at her as she passed, Lilah breathed deeply, barely containing the growing disdain for the man. He smiled serenely.  She got the distinct feeling he knew way more than she wanted him to know, and that unsettled her. They were already on an uneven playing field. Every second she spent in his presence made her feel more unbalanced.

Brasa was already sitting at a long rectangular table when they arrived.  He stood as they approached, one hand remaining on the wood. Lilah noted that he wasn’t wearing his coat, though the gloves remained. He was, as seemed his habit, dressed in all black.

“Welcome,” he said amiably, though he didn’t smile.

Seth’s gait slowed to a swagger, and Lilah very nearly rolled her eyes as he slid a chair out and sat, Richie taking his place beside him. She pulled out the chair on the other side of Seth, sitting carefully. Brasa waited a beat, then sat as well.

“What do you want?” Seth asked.

Brasa leaned forward on his forearms, hands folded, “I can tell you what I don’t want. I don’t want another endless war. I don’t want to see my people hunted. I don’t want any more killing between us.”

Lilah watched his face as he talked. His voice was calm, even in a way that told her he wasn’t attempting to dissemble. His body language was guarded, but that was to be expected.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Seth replied, jaw set.

Brasa looked at him, unblinking, “I want peace. I have people to care for. My attention needs to be on them, not on fighting off every attempt to kill us.”

Seth smirked, “I wouldn’t say ‘attempt’. We’ve been pretty successful.”

Richie nodded, “Very successful, in some cases.”

Lilah felt her mouth thin at the boast. Telling Brasa that they had been killing off his people wasn’t conducive. She wondered if they intended to talk peace at all, or if this was a very dangerous scheme to irk their enemy. Her fingers itched to touch her knife. She resisted, barely.

“That’s right, Richie. Got a whole nest, what, six months ago?” Seth’s tone was conversational, bordering on jovial.

“We did, indeed.”

Jesus, she thought. We’re all going to die down here.

Brasa’s eyes closed briefly, and Lilah could tell he was annoyed, though he telegraphed nothing with his body.

“The point is,” he asserted, his fingers flexing with the third word, “I’m offering to stop the fight. A complete cease fire, if you will.”

“Why?”

Oh, God, why are you talking?

Brasa’s eyes flicked to her, his mouth twitching. Lilah sensed his amusement, felt it brush against her mind as clearly as any physical touch. Beneath the table, she lifted her toes, the urge to haul ass out of the room riding her hard.

“My kind were made for war,” he explained, “Bred for it, bound to it. We had no choice in the matter. Now, I can make that choice. I can stop the cycle, at least in this dimension.”

Lilah very carefully avoided the fact that he had just confirmed there were other dimensions. Though she had gotten a little background information on Xibalba, she hadn’t yet put it together that it was co-existing somewhere that wasn’t Earth. That put a lot of her reading into a very strange and very mind bending context. Focus.

“That’s it?”

His head cocked to the side, “Does there need to be more?”

“There’s always more with you people,” Seth interrupted blithely. “We just don’t know what it is yet.”

Brasa smiled a very small smile, “Perhaps. But, at this time, this is all that is on the table.” He tapped the wood with a knuckle.

“So,” Richie prompted, pulling a pack of cigs out of his jacket pocket. He tapped one out along with a Zippo lighter. “What are your terms?”

Leaning back a little in his seat, Brasa lifted a shoulder, “As I said. Complete cease fire on both sides. We’ll outline our territories and keep to our sides.”

Richie took a drag, considering. Lilah watched him mull over the words, his keen intellect working his way through the problem.

Seth sneered, “You gonna keep killing humans, while you’re at it.”

Brasa shook his head, “No need. We have our own supply.”

The trucks. That’s what he’d been bringing in on Tuesdays. A blood supply, but from where? The shipments were massive, would feed far more than she’d seen coming in through the garage. Unless, there was another entrance, something underground, perhaps? She hadn’t seen anything, not even in the blueprints she’d managed to snag from the city.

Seth looked unconvinced, “You say you’ve got people. How many? How are you going to feed them all?”

“That is my concern,” Brasa answered levelly. “Your concern is that your people adhere to the terms of our agreement.”

Richie flicked ash, saying, “I’ve got some terms to add.”

Brasa’s brows lifted, a silent urge for the other man to continue.

“I want no interference with bondmates. None whatsoever.”

Lilah had no control over the way her heart thudded, and she knew two of the three males in the room were hearing it. Though he didn’t look her way, she felt Brasa’s attention shift over to her, felt heat rolling towards her from where he was sitting.

His lips parted, “How do you mean?”

Richie stubbed his cigarette out on the wooden table, “We both know I’ve completed my bond with Kate. I don’t want her to be a target for retribution.”

Ah, there it is. Lilah wondered if Richie would bring Kate into this. She was the silent voice in the room, a key player in absentia. With what she knew about their interaction, it made sense that Brasa might want a little vengeance.

“Kate,” Brasa began, curtly, “Is not Amaru. And, neither am I.” He drew in a breath, “But, I agree that bondmates must be left out of any disagreement, no matter how fierce. They are too precious to be used as bargaining chips.”

Richie stared hard, his mouth thin, nostrils flared. After several long seconds, he gave a nod, indicating his satisfaction.

“Are there other terms you want to discuss?” Brasa asked.

Seth gave a little sound of thought, “I’m sure we’ll think of something along the way.”

Here, Brasa’s eyes lit up, “I agree. I would like to implement the use of an ambassador during the drafting of our treaty. I will send one of mine to you, and you will send one of yours to me.”

At this, Lilah felt Javier step up to the table, though he didn’t say anything. Seth glanced at the man, tongue touching the back of his teeth. Lilah could feel how they’d been boxed in, though she doubted either of them knew just how it had happened. Or, why.

“Why would we need to do that?” This came from Richie, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

For the first time since they’d entered the room, Brasa relaxed. Lilah felt a little jolt of fear go through her. Relaxed was not going to go well for them.

“I have either brokered or been present during the brokering of many, many peace treaties.”

“And, how many of them have you broken?” Seth bit out.

Lilah felt her throat work around a noise she’d been holding back for a while. A short, guttural sound that meant ‘shut the fuck up’. They were almost through this, and if he could keep from pissing Brasa off, they could maybe end out with a good deal.

Ignoring the comment, Brasa continued, “In my experience, the first draft is rarely accepted as the final. It will go through several revisions before we add our signatures. The use of ambassadors is standard practice.”

Seth took a moment, staring Brasa down, “Who do you suggest?”

Brasa lifted a hand, indicating the man beside him, “Javier will suffice for us. He knows my expectations. And for yourself?”

“Richie’ll do it.”

The man in question scoffed, leaning over to talk lowly with his brother, “I’m supposed to be running point on our other projects. How would I have time to draft a peace treaty?”

“You don’t sleep, Richard.”

“I do, too, sleep.”

“Like two hours a day.”

“That’s still sleep, you asshole.”

Lilah touched her temple, knowing that they’d come to an agreement eventually.  She’d just have to listen to them bitching about it for a bit first. Across the table, Brasa hid his smile behind his hand, dark eyes glancing at her. She avoided his gaze.

“This project will likely take several months, and extensive ongoing meetings,” Brasa said eventually, leaning his chin on his hand casually, “Can you spare your brother for that long?”

Seth paused in his bickering, his brain working around the problem. Lilah watched his expression carefully, waiting. The furrow between his brows relaxed and she knew he had it. He looked at her and she knew she was going to hate what came out of his mouth next.

“McNamara,” he muttered. She was already shaking her head, “You do this all the time.”

“I negotiate our cut when we pull jobs, Seth. Its not the same thing.”

“Close enough,” he responded quickly, turning in his chair to look at her head on. “You know what we’ll accept, anything else you can run past us.”

Lilah stared at him, though her attention was straying to the heat creeping up the side of her neck to her cheek. It took effort to keep from shifting away from it, the unfamiliar weight disconcerting. She felt her resolve crumbling under the pressure.

“Seth,” she breathed, “Richie’s right. You’re an asshole.”

Then, she turned in her chair and faced Brasa, “I’ll do it.”

She sensed more than saw his satisfaction. They had just given him something he wanted. Lilah was unsure how she felt about that.

“Good,” Brasa announced, rising.  “I have an initial draft in my office. I also have a separate office for your ambassador. I will show her both, and then you may be on your way.”

“Hold up,” Seth said, rising, “You’re not taking her anywhere.”

“I’ll be fine,” Lilah grumbled, already circling around the table. “Besides, he’s got a lot to lose, if he kills me.”

No one needed to know just how much Brasa stood to lose with Lilah’s death. She let the implication stand in the deadened air, though. With more confidence than she felt, Lilah stood before him, waiting for him to lead the way.

After casting her another assessing look, Brasa turned and moved towards the back of the room. Another set of doors, another hallway, and she was stepping to a massive room that looked like it was carved right out of the earthen stone.  She was entering it from the side, about ten feet of rock separating the front of the room from a pool of water that was bisected by a walkway.  Cast once more in a red glow, the walkway led to singular desk with two plush chairs.

“Good work out there, by the way,” she commented, uncomfortable with the extended silence.

He looked back at her and smiled. Lilah had to swallow back the shock of how young he looked when he smiled like that. She knew he was ancient, knew that he’d seen things she couldn’t even fathom, and yet...his boyish pleasure at the compliment was so evident that it washed all of that away.

“That wasn’t work,” he replied, moving towards the desk, his hands slipping into his pockets, “That was a negotiation.”

Her eyes narrowed, “For the treaty?”

“For you,” he answered, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

Lilah bristled, “I thought bondmates weren’t going to be used as bargaining chips.”

Brasa huffed a short breath, turning and leaning against the desk, “Its been weeks, Lilah. Forgive me if the separation has made me brash.”

What he’d done wasn’t brash. It was cool, calculated, efficient. He’d maneuvered not only the peace he sought, but a guarantee of her nearness within ten minutes. She was in over her head. She was in way, way over her head.

Licking her lips, Lilah approached him with all the wariness that she would give a wild animal, “What do you want from me?”

He looked at her a moment, “Time.”

“Time?”

“Yes,” he confirmed with a dip of his chin, “Just time.”

She thought about it, “Then, I need something from you.”

Lifting from the desk, he stood up straight, “Name it.”

“Discretion. I know those men out there. I know what they are capable of. If you really want peace between our people, they cannot know how you and I are...connected.”

He considered it, and she could tell that he was on the verge of refusing. This was a proud male that she was dealing with, someone who’d fought a long time to get where he was. The little bit that she knew about bondmates made the request seeming somehow unreasonable.

“You ask too much,” he murmured, taking a step towards her. “I have already given you more than I should.”

She was bewildered, “A few weeks? Is that more than you should? This is my life we are talking about.”

Heat blew at her, his anger a physical thing, “This is my nature we are talking about.”

His words were lowly spoken, but filled with such an undertone of severity that Lilah couldn’t bring herself to reply.

“I am Xibalban,” his hand cut across the air, “It is my right to claim my bondmate when I find her, no matter the circumstances.”

“And, what about my rights?” Lilah sneered, arms crossing.

Brasa took a deep breath, centering himself. Then, he took another breath, his eyes focused and she could tell he’d already formed another deal to make, “I’ll need something from you, to keep this secret.”

Ice moved glacially down her spine, a cold kind of fear. Her skin pricked with awareness. She jerked her head to the side, indicated for him to continue.

“Blood,” he stated, “Blood and bond.”

There was a soft lilt in the way he said it, a hint of ritual. Lilah’s jaw clenched as she waited for more information.

“I need to assured of your safety, of your strength, when you are not with me. I have many enemies, and if they discover you are human—if I haven’t fortified you properly—they will kill you. We will have a blood exchange when we meet, every time. That is what I want from you.”

Blood. Time. Discretion.

Lilah nodded, “Done.”

He was satisfied, but he was not pleased. Lilah could read it in the shift of his body, the ash in his scent.  She waited, unsure of how happy she was with the arrangement.

“We will begin now,” he announced, a blade already in his hand.

Lilah closed her eyes, working to keep her instinctive reaction at bay. An angry Xibalban with a knife was not to be taken lightly. Before she could react, he appeared in front of her, taking her arm—the arm with the knife strapped to it. Lilah didn’t have the ability to pull back as he lifted the sleeve of her sweatshirt. She did have the ability to glare at him as he laughed.

“What were you going to do with this?”

“Well,” she deadpanned, “Shooting you didn’t quite work out last time. I figured another method might be more effective.”

He flashed his teeth at her, “I applaud the effort.”

“Thanks.”

Letting go of one arm, he took up the other, peeking underneath the fabric. Satisfied that she wasn’t harboring any other weapons, Brasa pushed it to her elbow, glancing at her for her readiness. Lilah gave a nod, hissing when the blade went through her skin.  This cut was deeper than the last, though just as precise. He brought the wound to his mouth, sucking gently.

Lilah didn’t know how to feel about the way her body reacted to watching him drink from her. There was an alien revulsion to the act, itself. Mentally, her brain screamed that she was in danger, that she had to get away. The primal part of her brain, the thing that was deeper and stronger than any other, ensured that she stayed right where she was.

He groaned against her skin, and she felt the vibration of it go right through her, rolling along her arm and over her chest. His body was so close, the scent of coffee and caramel all she could sense. Lilah kept trying to breathe, kept trying to remain upright. When she wavered, his arm went around her waist, pulling her into a broad chest. Her free hand gripped his shirt for balance.

Too late, and too soon, he pulled away, his tongue lingering over the cut a moment longer. Lilah swallowed, eyes wide, when he looked at her. The black had taken over the whites of his eyes again, and though his lips weren’t pulled back over them, she knew his fangs had dropped. She held her breath.

Without a word, Brasa slipped the button at the cuff of his shirt through the buttonhole and rolled it up, blade slicing through his forearm. She almost said no. She almost shoved him away and ran full sprint back to Seth and Richie. His eyes stopped her.

Brasa’s eyes, black as they were, were so wide and beguiled that Lilah had to stop and stare. He was looking at her with such unrestained awe, such grateful affection that she made no move to resist as he guided her to his own skin.

Lilah wished it had been a fluke. She wished that her memory of how good he tasted was so distorted by adrenaline and fear that it couldn’t even come close to reality. He was...exquisite. Honey thick, and twice as sweet.

She had to stop this. She had to get control. Turning her head, Lilah tried to get away. His hand slipped to the back of her neck below her ponytail, a firm grasp.

“More than a mouthful, this time,” he murmured against her temple, “More, Lilah.”

God help her, but she took it. Swallow after swallow, her eyes squeezed shut, words of praise sounding her ear. When he finally allowed her to lift her chin, she struggled to breathe. She didn’t know how long she’d been at it, only that his taste remained, coating every inch of her mouth.

His arms held her steady, “You did so good. So good.”

Lilah felt her body overheat, sweat forming on her temples. His face swam in her vision, so close she could feel the vibration of every word he said. Though her sight was blurred by the intensity of what she was feeling, Lilah could absolutely tell that he was still wearing that expression of awe, that he was looking at her as if she were the entire world. And that scared her.

Drawing on years of experience with unstable and dangerous situations, Lilah righted herself, rasping, “I need to get back. They won’t wait for long.”

Brasa ran his hands down her arms, the action serving to compose his demeanor. Assured that she could stand on her own, he stepped away towards his desk where he picked up a thick file.

Handing it to her, he explained, “This is the first draft. Take a look at it and we’ll discuss edits.”

Javier was standing near the door as they walked out. He handed Lilah a Gatorade with a smile. Lilah’s eyes cut at him as she took it, thumb and forefinger already twisting off the cap. She’d have to get more details on that man as soon as possible. He was definitely more than he seemed.

It wasn’t until they were almost home that Richie finally turned around in the front seat and cast her a curious gaze, “What happened in there? You haven’t said anything.”

Lilah caught Seth looking at her in the rearview.  

She shrugged, “He showed me an office and handed me the file. He wants to see our edits as soon as we have them ready. I’m going to look at this tomorrow and let you read what I come up with.”

He wasn’t satisfied with her answer. Lilah could tell by the way he sucked his teeth. She didn’t care. She had much, much bigger things to worry about.

[boysenberry-starbucks-gremlin]

Never an Interruption, Sweetie

Pairing: Gil Arroyo x Jessica Whitley

Prompt: Malcolm knows no boundaries and storms in on Jess and Gil when they’re being a tad more friendly than they typically are around him. Not that he notices.

Everyone can thank my amazing GilxJessica group chat for helping me come up with this story and encouraging me to write it. @el-chonkus @jemila-joane @bellamyssapphic (Can’t tag everyone, but they were there when I came up with it.)

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

The weeks dragged on. Jessica was beginning to feel that she would never get to live a normal life. If it wasn’t something about Malcolm chasing down yet another serial killer and getting himself nearly killed in the process, it was the constant reminder that her daughter was too much like her father. The one thing she spent decades avoiding with Malcolm ended up coming true with Ainsley. Like father, like daughter, she supposed. Really, she should have seen it coming when Ainsley interacted the way that she did with the Carousel Killer. But of course, a mother’s love is blind.

Gil was a constant source of comfort for her, though. After everything that happened, she would just be happy that he was safe but the fact that he was safe and also caring about her safety and mental health filled her with so much love. She couldn’t really believe that they were getting another chance. 

Telling the kids was a topic of much debate. There was no doubt that they wanted to tell them. Gil loved Ainsley and Malcolm like they were his own, had ever since all of this mess began. But with everything that was going on, neither really felt that they would be able to handle it if either of them rejected the idea. Or worse, if either of them chose to inform Martin. Jessica could only imagine the rage that would fill him with. So they chose to stay quiet until they could tell them both properly, knowing that what they had was going to stick.

That evening, Gil had been over. They had dinner and were relaxing on the sofa with a glass of wine and scotch. It was a perfect evening, the like of which Gil insisted on having regularly to keep both their minds at ease. 

“Thank you,” Jessica spoke after a long moment of comfortable silence. “Just....for everything. You have no idea how much you do for me.”

Gil chuckled. “If it means seeing you happy, I would happily double what I do for you.”

“I’m always happy with you, Gil.”

This was a typical conversation they had during these evenings. The dialogue changed but the gist was always the same. As was the end result; the glasses set aside on the coffee table so they don’t spill, Gil’s hands resting gently on Jessica’s hips, her’s behind his neck, her fingers playing with the short hairs she could reach. Occasionally, it went further. Perhaps it could have that night but-

“Okay! Let me just say that I was right!” The door to the room had swung open violently, Malcolm rushing into the room. The couple pulled apart comically like embarrassed teenagers. “Oh, Gil, good, you’re here. You’ll want to hear this too.”

The coupe glanced between each other as Malcolm spoke quickly, hardly taking a breath. He excitedly explained how he knew who the killer had been all along and how he maybe- sorta- kinda- illegally broke into the guy’s garage to find the evidence he needed. But the main point was that he found it and he was right. It was a very long-winded “I told you so” to both of them who had greatly disagreed with Malcolm earlier that week.

Finally, Malcolm stopped talking. He took a breath finally, sticking his hands in his coat pocket, smiling like he was the smartest person in the world - which he probably felt like at the moment. 

His head tilted as his brain began to fill in gaps. Gil and Jessica could both see what was coming. 

“Was- was I interrupting something?” He glanced quickly between the two of them, already knowing the answer.

Gil made to speak but Jessica laid a hand on his shoulder. “Never and interruption, Sweetie. I’m glad you solved the case.”

Gil nodded in agreement and Malcolm still stood there, staring at his mother and the man he had long since considered his father. 

“Alright,” Malcolm spoke again, his hand coming up to rake through his messy hair. “I’ll- uh....I’ll leave you two alone. Back to what you were doing.” And with that, he left again, feeling like a parent who should have given them some lecture about being safe. But they weren’t kids. They deserved this, them both. And although he was still confused, and a little embarrassed for interrupting them, he was over the moon happy for them. Maybe the small hope he had for them to both finally have normal lives would finally come true. Or it would get increasingly less normal.

[argylemnwrites]

Fight or Flight - Chapter 7: Resignation

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~4200

Rating: R (language only)

Summary: Thirty hours since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: What day of the week is it even? Oh well, here’s a chapter, hahaha. This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

“My fellow Cordonians, it is with a heavy heart that I speak to you today.”

His words echoed in his mind, over and over again, his speech something that was likely to stay burned into his mind for the rest of his life. After all, he couldn’t predict anything quite as memorable as having to announce his loss of title to his citizens and the world at large happening to him at any point in the future.

“I never anticipated having to bring this news to you, but even though I am no longer King of Cordonia, I have no intention of yielding the power of the crown to anyone who I feel is a threat to the safety and prosperity of this country.”

Stefan was following the media coverage of his speech that he gave this evening that provided an overview of the day’s events, including his removal from the throne, Bridget’s ascension to queen-regent until the Conclave, and his intention to name a regent for her tomorrow. Liam knew he personally should be watching to see how people were responding, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. His emotions were frayed, raw, and strung out. It felt like everything was spiraling out of control. He hadn’t felt like this in a very long time. Not since Father died, in all honesty.

The weeks surrounding his father’s death were sort of covered in a surreal blur whenever he reflected back on them. Not only had his relationship with Father been more complicated and fraught than it had ever been before at the time of his passing, making his loss a thorny storm of emotions, but he’d barely even had time to mourn in any capacity. His country had been in the midst of an active terrorist threat, plus he’d been processing true heartbreak for the first time in his life. He had somehow gotten through those days, those emotions, those struggles though. He knew he would get through everything happening now as well, but at the moment, that seemed like an impossible task.

“I know that this is an unprecedented combination of events, comparable to nothing that has occurred in hundreds of years of Cordonian history. But I have seen the strength and resilience of our citizens first-hand, and I am confident that we will emerge from this Social Season stronger than ever.”

As far as next steps went, naming Rashad as Bridget’s regent was really his only option. Thankfully, in spite of the man’s ambivalence when it came to his noble title, he’d agreed to fill the role and was coming to the hearing in the morning to allow for a rapid transfer of power. He was one of the only truly neutral parties available who was appropriately titled and qualified. Liam had brought Hana with him to broach the topic with Rashad, but her gentle powers of persuasion proved unnecessary. The only point at which the conversation was anything but pleasant and agreeable was when Rashad wanted to schedule a meeting with Riley and Drake to discuss how best to handle legal and physical custody of Bridget in ways that would be in accordance with the results of the no-confidence vote, but Liam had been easily able to convince him to table that topic until he was sworn in as regent.

“No matter my title or role, know that I will always serve the citizens of Cordonia in whatever way they require.”

He half-heartedly pulled more documents from his desk drawers, trying to focus on the task at hand. He needed to determine which pieces of information were private, and should come with him to Lythikos, versus those that he needed to leave behind as essential information to allow Cordonia’s next leader to govern. In all honesty, he probably should be creating a sort of quick-guide, a makeshift introductory pamphlet with the most important pieces of information required to lead the country to ease the transition of power. However, another part of him felt like that would be a mistake. Maybe he should allow things to be rough initially, giving the people a chance to miss his leadership. It’s not like Rashad was completely incompetent, so it shouldn’t cause a dangerous power vacuum if he just left Rashad without any formal instructions. And, after all, didn’t a no-confidence vote indicate he shouldn’t be attempting to wield any power at the moment? If this was the wish of the majority of the major houses, maybe he should just let their little scheme play out and backfire on them in spectacular fashion. But was it fair to subject the common citizens to engage in such a game of political chicken?

A wave of loneliness and isolation washed over him as he weighed his options. This dilemma was just one of many he was facing at the moment that he wished he could discuss with Drake. Over the years, Drake had, more often than not, served as his sounding board, devil’s advocate, and unofficial advisor. The countless instances they’d sat in this office at the end of the day, sipping whiskey while Liam solidified his stances and bounced ideas off of Drake had helped him prepare to face political opponents, foreign negotiators, and skeptical members of the press time and time over. Now, he had to make decisions on his own, without his most trusted friend and ally.

For perhaps the tenth time that evening, he pulled the slip of paper Hana had given him out of his pocket and stared at Drake and Riley’s phone numbers. He could call Drake to talk, he supposed. But he was struggling to work up the courage to do so. He couldn’t just pretend nothing had changed and ask Drake to listen as he worked through his thought process. Drake had different priorities now. That much was wildly apparent.

There was also the small matter of the fact that Liam knew he would need to hide some of his thoughts and feelings from Drake at the moment. He’d done it before, back during Drake and Riley’s engagement, but part of doing so involved keeping his distance from Drake at that time. Drake just knew him better than anyone and could more easily read through his diplomatic mask. It was really only in the past six months or so that it seemed things had fully returned to normal, Drake’s marriage to Riley no longer a point of awkwardness between them. Now, for Drake to flee in the middle of a coup, it felt like the foundation of their friendship was being torn apart yet again.

A few sharp taps on the door interrupted his thoughts. A second later, the door swung open, revealing Olivia with a bottle of wine in her hand.

“I thought you might want some company,” she said as she strode across the room, grabbing two wine glasses off the bar cart before flouncing into the seat across from him. “I won’t even make you switch seats with me, even though the monarch’s desk should technically be mine tonight.”

Liam forced a smile as she sat down and moved to uncork the wine, noticing the vintage of the bottle for the first time.

“Olivia, that bottle is worth over ten thousand Euros.”

She grinned at him as she poured them both a glass. “Exactly. This fine wine was procured by a member of the Rys family, and therefore if anyone deserves to drink it, it’s you.” With that she handed Liam a glass and picked up her own. Liam could only shake his head lightly before tapping his glass against hers gently.

“To the end of Rys rule in Cordonia,” he said with a little shrug before taking a sip. He saw Olivia raise her eyebrows over her own glass.

“Liam…” she started as she set down her glass on the desk.

“It’s nothing, just a bad joke,” Liam lied, waving his hand through the air. “Would you mind terribly if I asked you which documents you think are the most important ones to leave for Rashad?” he asked as he placed a stack of paperwork on the desk between them, trying to divert the conversation.

His question was met with silence, so Liam glanced up from the documents. Olivia was staring at him intently, and she took another sip of her wine before she responded.

“I can certainly help with that, but Liam… are you��� shit, I don’t know what to say. This fucking sucks, doesn’t it?”

He let out a little snort at that. “Indeed, it does.”

“I can’t believe those assholes are trying to pull this bullshit. Like fucking Barthelemy would make a better king than you. You’ve given up everything for this country.”

“It feels that way sometimes. I was happy to do so for so long, too. I always knew that leading Cordonia was an honor, and after my brother’s abdication, I never resented needing to prove to my people that I would be a worthy king. But now…” he trailed off, unable to vocalize the rest of that thought. After everything he’d done to be a good king, a better king than his paranoid, ruthless father ever was, and this was how the universe chose to repay him.

The tense silence hung in the office for a few moments before Olivia spoke again. “Speaking of your brother, I hope you don’t mind, but I gave Leo a call and told him what was happening. I figured this isn’t the sort of thing he should hear about on the news. I think he’s flying back. He seemed pretty upset over the whole thing.”

Liam just hummed at that. He loved his brother, but he wasn’t sure if the man who willingly chose to shed his title of Crown Prince would be able to sympathize with his personal pain of having his title stripped from him. Maybe he could help provide some nice distractions, though. Leo was always good for that.

“Thank you,” Liam finally said with a nod, “I planned to call him tomorrow.”

“No problem. I just figured you and Drake might have… a lot to discuss.”

Liam gave a weak smile and shook his head. “I actually haven’t spoken to him yet.”

Olivia narrowed her eyes and tilted her head slightly at his comment. “Well, that needs to be addressed.”

He frowned, taking another sip of the admittedly very excellent wine before he responded. “Quite frankly, Liv, I don’t know that I want to discuss my reasons for not calling him with you. At least not tonight.”

“Tough shit. You have no reason not to call him anymore. And seeing as he’s been your… confidante,” she said, clearly taking a moment to decide how to describe their relationship, “for decades, it strikes me as pretty concerning that you didn’t rush to call him at the first chance you got.”

Liam sighed heavily. He didn’t really want to get into this all, but she was clearly not going to let him brush this off. “I don’t know what to say to him. He left, and I just…” Liam trailed off, unable to fully vocalize the pain he felt in regards to Drake’s actions.

Olivia pursed her lips for just a moment, her bright red nails tapping rapidly against the stem of her wine glass. “I can’t figure out if you are attempting to punish him or protect him here.”

Her response caught him off guard. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you clearly are all sorts of angry and frustrated with him at the moment. I just can’t tell if you think that’s justified, and this is some sort of passive aggressive punishment, or if you realize you aren’t being fair, and you don’t want to make him feel any guiltier.”

“Are you saying that my irritation with him isn’t justified?”

“Irritation would be fine. But I don’t believe for one second that you would avoid talking to Drake if you were merely irritated with him.”

Liam was expecting some sort of sly comment about how surely talking to Drake was always irritating, but it didn’t come. Instead, Olivia continued on, serious and solemn.

“You must be insanely upset with him if you haven’t given him a call, and I’m going to be honest, that scares me. I’m backing you at the Conclave, Liam, and I intend to throw the Nevrakis name behind a winner. So that means you need to be emotionally ready for this fight over the next couple of months. I can’t have you caught up in some petty bullshit with Drake fucking Walker.”

Her statement was a surprising one. “I would have thought you would have been the one person who might understand my rather complicated point of view on this subject.”

She shook her head. “Drake and I may not see eye to eye on… a lot of things, actually, but I still think you are being absurd here.”

“This critique strikes me as slightly hypocritical, as I am having a hard time picturing you not being at least fairly angry with the mess they have created here. A mess that could have been avoided if they’d stuck to your plan, I might add.”

“Of course I’m angry with them! They put almost zero thought into this, and I’ve been scrambling for more than a day straight to try and prevent this all from spiraling into total disaster. But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand why they did it. This was all in service of keeping their family together, Liam. You have to know that.”

He did understand that intellectually, but somehow her assessment just didn’t sit right with him. “Yes, Olivia. I can comprehend that their motivations are the safety and security of their daughter, but what I cannot bring myself to do is approve of their decision to commit treason and abandon the citizens of Valtoria they took an oath to serve.”

Olivia took a long sip of her wine before she replied, “Do you want me to pretend that I believe your last statement there, or do you want someone besides Drake to call you on your bullshit? I can do either, you just need to tell me what you want.”

“Of course I want you to be honest with me, Olivia,” he said, completely baffled by her assertion.

She just raised her eyebrows and stared at him, giving him one last chance to ask her to lie, apparently. All he could do was raise his eyebrows right back and take a drink from his own glass, almost daring her to do her worst.

“You aren’t pissed that they are shitty nobles who just abandoned their posts without a second thought. You are pissed that Drake isn’t here to serve as your emotional support.”

Liam opened his mouth to retort, but Olivia shook her head and just kept going.

“It’s understandable, really. He’s been the one you could always turn to, and now it feels like you can’t rely on him at a time when you really fucking need that kind of support. But you need to at least recognize that personal pain as the source of your anger here and not hide behind indignation over the way Drake and Riley fulfill their roles as duke and duchess.

“Those two have always been shitty members of the nobility, and you have never had an issue with it up until this point. In fact, you seemed to tacitly approve of their antics as you granted them power that other dukes and duchesses could only dream of.”

Liam frowned, the blood pounding in his ears as he tried not to let Olivia’s words anger him. “What do you mean?” he breathed out, focusing on not letting this situation escalate. A defensive Olivia was the last thing he was mentally and emotionally equipped to handle tonight.

“Liam, you essentially handed them the reins when it came to the Auvernal negotiations.”

“Those negotiations all centered around their child. It felt wrong to not grant them a certain amount of control given the circumstances.”

She tilted her head back and forth for just a moment. “Sure, I get that. And I’m really not trying to make you defend your decisions here regarding that whole mess. But you have to admit that Drake and Riley have kind of always just done whatever the hell they wanted, and until today, you never had anything to say about it.”

Her assessment echoed through the room as Liam leaned back in his chair, taking another sip of wine. He didn’t want to think he was being solely motivated by his emotions here. He’d worked for years and years, since he was a young boy, to ensure that he kept any feelings in check, guarded and secured for private moments. But Olivia did have a point - Drake and Riley bucking tradition and proper conduct for members of the nobility had never really bothered him before. 

“Liam, I’m not trying to kick you while you’re already hurting. It’s probably natural to feel hurt by Drake’s decision here. I just think you will be able to move past this a little easier if you are honest about why his actions bother you.”

Liam glanced across the desk, meeting Olivia’s gaze. “I sometimes just…” but he couldn’t complete his thought. To vocalize that he just wanted the most important person in his life to care about him on a personal level above all others would be immature and selfish. Drake had a wife and child to think about. Of course they warranted more of his consideration than Liam did. But it was just one more thing he lost in the past day or so, that one person around whom he didn’t need to censor himself, the only individual who gave him honesty without question of motive.

Olivia reached across the desk and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Like I said, being upset is pretty natural here. If it makes you feel any better, I wanted to reach through my phone and stab them both in the gut when Drake told me they had no intention of returning, even if it meant treason charges.”

Liam let out a little chuckle. “How are you so… calm about this now?” Using that word to describe Olivia in any situation felt out of character, but there was literally no other way to describe her at the moment. She looked at ease, sipping thousands of Euros of wine like it was nothing.

“I’m not sure if ‘calm’ is the right word; it’s more like I’m… resigned, I guess. They are both stubborn as hell, and they made this choice because they thought it was best for their kid. Even I can’t fight that.”

“I just wish they would have gone to Lythikos. Then we could be fighting this from all angles together.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe? That was your whole plan, and it still seems better thought out than their fugitive act.”

“From our perspective, sure. But we are worried about Cordonia as a whole. They are just worried about keeping their daughter. And given that Rashad already brought up wanting to meet with them to discuss custody, it seems like they were at least a little bit justified in their concerns.”

Liam frowned. Hana must have filled in Olivia of the details of their conversation with Rashad. Liam had gotten the impression that Rashad wanted to find a way to keep Drake and Riley as active participants in Bridget’s life based on the way he requested that meeting, not tear them apart from their child. “Do you really think Rashad has any interest in keeping them from their daughter?”

“No, not exactly. But I also think that coming to live at the palace as Bridget’s nannies or guardians or whatever Rashad plans to throw out there as a way to obey the letter of the law when it comes to the no-confidence vote is a far cry from being recognized as her parents fully. At the end of the day, I just think they aren’t willing to compromise on any aspect when it comes to being a family.” Olivia pursed her lips and glanced into her lap before she continued, “It kind of makes me wish my own parents would have felt that way.”

Her confession was so vulnerable, so honest, it nearly took his breath away. When they were younger, Olivia had sometimes talked about her fears, her pain, her neglect, and Liam had always been willing to lend an ear and supportive shoulder for her to lean on. But as the years marched on, those conversations had dwindled and eventually ceased. Olivia became more defensive, not allowing herself to be perceived as weak by anyone. And in some regards, she thrived. But clearly, that pain from her childhood was still a part of her.

Liam could identify with her in some respects. Father had always devoted more time and energy to Leo. After all, not only had he been the Crown Prince, but he acted out more, drawing more attention nearly every step of the way. But that had largely left Liam to spend time with Mother, who always tried to balance his formal lessons with genuine warmth and affection. And even though she’d been killed and taken from him when he was still quite young, he at least had her guidance and devotion for a while. That was more than Olivia could say about her parents.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Mother might have made the same choice as Drake and Riley, had she been placed in that position. He didn’t recognize it as a child, but looking back on her words now, he saw her concerns, her worries, and her desire to keep him safe. Did she regret her station? Regret raising her son in such an environment? Or did the fact that he’d never known her as an adult mean that he just saw her actions through the rose-tinted glasses of a child?

“Bridget is lucky in that respect,” Liam eventually said, reaching across the desk and refilling both of their wine glasses. “I suppose that’s why royal lineage tends to be emphasized and protected for generation after generation. It’s the only way to battle that instinctual urge to protect one’s children and instead force them to carry massive responsibilities.”

Olivia shook her head. “Or generations of people who strike up primarily political marriages just eliminates all love and empathy from the gene pool.”

“What would you have done, if you were in their position?” Liam asked before taking another sip of wine. The more he thought about it, he wasn’t sure what he would have done if it was his own child. All the options that worked their way into his mind seemed terrible.

Olivia paused to take a drink as well, her free hand tapping a rapid pattern against the surface of the desk. “I don’t know. I’d like to think I would be able to plot things out rationally, but I might have violently lashed out. I don’t think I would have run, but that’s just never been my style. But I don’t know exactly how it would unfold.”

“It’s hard to imagine, acting on that gut emotional response, isn’t it? All our lives, we’ve been taught to negotiate, to employ diplomatic tactics, to foster alliances to protect our titles.”

“You might have been taught that,” interjected Olivia, “but I was taught to fight to protect the family name to the death,”

“Touché,” said Liam, a real smile forming for the first time that day, “but I think my point remains. I don’t think I could let my child be taken by another, but at the same time, it’s as if I cannot imagine myself being guided by my emotions, even if it would make sense to do so.”

“You would protect your kid, Liam. You would figure it out if you were put in that spot.”

“I hope so. I think you would as well, and with minimal bloodshed, I believe.”

She laughed at that, dropping her head back, causing a few strands of red hair to fall loose around her face. “Well, let’s just be grateful we don’t have to find out the truth of that assessment, but it’s getting late, and we still have a lot to do before we need to vacate the palace in the morning. Do you want some privacy to talk to Drake? I can sort through those-” she said, gesturing to the stack of papers left between them on the desk “-while you give him a call.”

He nodded slowly. “Yes. I still don’t know what I’m going to say to him, but…”

“You’ll figure it out,” she said with a shrug, gathering the papers in one arm. “Just meet me in my quarters when you guys are done.”

Liam gave her a little smile as she left his office, pulling out the paper from Hana and staring at it for a few seconds before pulling out his new, prepaid cell phone and calling the number on the top of the page. It was time to talk to Drake.

Permatag:  @walkerswhiskeygirl   @riley--walker  @bebepac @ravenpuff02 @oofchoices @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5  @mfackenthal  @thequeenofcronuts  

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @ao719 @mskaneko @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @axwalker @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie

Drake x MC: @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria  @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs  @drakesensworld @drake-colt-lover-99

Fight or Flight: @masterofbluff @burnsoslow @bobasheebaby @shz256 @iaminlovewithtrr​

[theladysexpistol]

since you're taking Mista requests, can I ask for our favourite man saving the reader? like idk, a mafia gunfight or something like that I just want to see him showing off 👀👀

Thank you for my first request darling 🥺🥺 and honestly with the ultimate dream of a request I’m losing my mind over it 😩

I see you and I are fellow bi’s and lovers of the stinky man as well 🥰

~~~

There weren’t supposed to be any problems on this job.

Giorno had done all the reconnaissance as usual before the night fell, and under his direction Fugo had prepared several methods of extraction for you. It was all routine, gathering information on a group of gangsters who had decided not to pledge their lives to the new boss, and had broken off from Passione. Rumors of an attempted coup or even assassination had made their way up to the don’s ears, so naturally he wanted to know how viable the threats against him were.

You had worked under Passione for several years as quite a valuable asset with a Stand that allowed you secretly listen in on conversations, like a fly on the wall. Because you had been employed by the previous boss, Giorno insisted on using your skills; as you learned by listening in on a conversation between him and Mista, it was in order to assess your loyalty to him. That was how you found yourself working with the men now at the top of gang quite often. While you weren’t sure if they entirely trusted you yet, you had found a bit of kinship with them that you hadn’t had with the elite guards of the old boss. And if you were being honest, you had grown rather fond of the company of one talented gunslinger.

You only hoped you were important enough to the group that they would realize something had gone wrong.

Currently, you had been tied to chair and were placed in front of the desk of the former Passione capo who had decided to split from the gang when Giorno took over. Surely every member had dreamed of snatching the position of boss eventually, but most were scared off by displays of power. It seemed this bastard hadn’t been; that much you had gathered through the use of your Stand before you had been caught. Guards and gangsters had been accounted for; what you hadn’t expected was that another one of the thugs’ escorts would get jealous enough of all the attention on you, the “new armpiece”, to follow you down the hallway and figure out you were actually a mole.

“I don’t recognize your face, but I’d bet my entire teams’ lives that you’re workin’ for the gangster prince,” the leader sneered. “I’d better give him some credit. You don’t look like someone who works for Passione. But you’ve got no way out now - just give it up and tell me what you know. I might let you keep your life for it.”

“You of all people should know you wouldn’t last one day as a mafioso if you let a threat like that shake you,” You spat back in his face. Under the previous boss, you’d never been afraid of dying. Now, you felt bitter bile gathering in the back of your throat at the thought.

Before you could reply however, several gunshots and shouts came from behind the closed doors of the room you were trapped in. Your head, which had been lulling forward after being struck by the man’s thugs, lifted slowly to find a frustrated fear over your captor’s face.

A grin appeared on your face. He had no idea what was going on, which meant you knew exactly who was here.

“Who the hell are you?!” A voice yelled from right outside the door, before more gunshots rang out, much closer than before.

The double doors swung open violently, and the familiar gangster swathed in red and blue swaggered into the room. Normally very calm and collected in stressful situations, you couldn’t recall ever seeing Mista with such a furious expression on his face. As if stunned by his appearance, the two thugs on either side of the doors were too slow on the uptake. By the time they’d drawn their own guns, Mista had shot them with the same cold precision you knew him for.

“Miiiiiista! We found them, we found them!” Several small voices cheered through the silence that followed the gunshots, and the relief building in your chest only expanded once you saw three members of Mista’s Stand, float over to you and broke your restraints.

You went to get to your feet, but found yourself too exhausted to stand and suddenly slumped toward the floor. Your head was throbbing; even though you didn’t recall being struck, that must be how they had incapacitated you. A strong arm hooked around your waist and pulled you back to your feet before you could collapse, and the familiar, oddly comforting scent that belonged to your companion.

“You-!” The gang’s leader began, fury and recognition in his voice, before Mista rose his gun and shot him too.

“Mista... I didn’t finish gathering intel...” you told him weakly, though you were really just so glad to see him.

“Doesn’t matter. I think the condition I found you in tells us enough. It’s been taken care off early,” he replied as he helped you out of the room, the gun remaining in his hand should anyone else appear to ambush the two of you.

“How did you know...?”

“I was getting antsy about sending you in alone anyway, but it was Fugo who made the call when you didn’t show up as planned,” Mista grunted. “I might’ve acted before we could make a plan but... I’m tired of losing people i care about.”

You recognized Fugo sitting in the driver’s seat of the car that Mista led you to, barely containing his simmering anger under the surface as the gunslinger helped you into the backseat and then slid in beside you.

“It’s been handled. Let’s go back,” Mista crossed his arms and let out a sigh.

Fugo only sighed and mumbled angrily under his breath as he pulled onto the main road. You glanced over at the man beside you, smiling to yourself and leaning your head on his shoulders as Mista’s words floated traitorously through your head.

You hadn’t realized you meant that much to him, but you were incredibly glad to hear it.

[mystical-flute]

Uncharted Waters (ch 4)

AO3 || Ko-Fi

She wasn’t brought to the dining room the next morning. Instead, Croquet brought her breakfast in her room.

And the uncomfortable knot in her stomach she’d fallen asleep with only tightened.

As soon as the lock clicked shut again, she glanced over. “Azila?”

“I’m here.”

The ghost - guardian - whatever she was - materialized next to her, floating gently above the ground.

“Were you there last night when Pegasus and I were watching my cousin duel?”

“I was. Why?”

Reika wrapped her fingers around the mug of coffee, trying to get the chill of dread out of her system. “I noticed something odd. Yugi seemed… almost taller. Not actually taller but… he was carrying himself with his poster completely straight. He seemed… confident in himself. I love him, but that’s not exactly what he’s been like.”

“The spirit of the puzzle…” Azila said softly. “I’ll tell you what I know about him.”

She set the coffee mug down and nodded, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“But I caution you, it is not much.”

“How come?”

Azila gazed out the window. “My husband was asked by him to erase all memory of his identity. I was told by Osiris to help guide him to the truth whenever the puzzle was solved, but he did not restore my memories.”

“Well… what is it? Why was he erased from history?”

“There was a war, back when I was alive. He sacrificed himself to save Egypt from destruction. I admit, we destroyed much about the war itself too, so I cannot recall the details, in order to protect ourselves,” Azila looked a little lost in her memories.

Reika frowned a little. “So he’s, what, some ancient Egyptian wizard, or something?”

“He was a noble. High-ranking, if I recall. He and my husband were best friends. It broke his heart to have to erase him from history.”

“Your husband?”

“Yes, Pharaoh Seto.”

The sound of footsteps distracted them, Azila vanishing from view for a moment as the door opened, revealing Kemo with another food cart.

He gave her a delight smirk as he approached, putting the empty plate on the bottom shelf.

“Miss Muto. I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance to talk last night,” he said as he set her food on the table next to her. “I’ve been quite busy with the tournament.”

“Yes, I’m sure kidnapping twelve-year-olds keeps you extremely busy,” she bit out. She ignored the food, taking the glass of wine into her hands. “What are you even doing here? I thought you worked for KaibaCorp.”

“What can I say? Mr. Pegasus has a better healthcare plan.”

“Bullshit.”

Kemo shrugged. “I prefer the new vision for KaibaCorp than the current one. I think that’s fair after working for a kid for three years.”

“You’re a traitor no matter how you try to justify it.”

“And what does it matter to you? You’re just some brat that was lucky to catch Alden’s attention. If it weren’t for him, you would have been thrown out of The Young Five when your mother disappeared,” Kemo sneered.

She tried not to let his words get to her, but she couldn’t stop the tears that sprung to her eyes and the knot that formed in the pit of her stomach.

It was enough for Kemo, who laughed. “But don’t worry, maybe you’ll get another lucky break once Master Pegasus gets his way.”

With that, Kemo swept from the room, the door locking behind him.

Reika set the wine glass back on the table with a shaking hand and lifted the lid of the tray, although she wasn’t very hungry.

“That man was quite cruel…” Azila’s soft voice said from next to her.

“It’s fine,” Reika replied, pushing the salad around her bowl with a fork. “He’s right. I did get lucky. It’s because Mr. Leichter picked me for the Young Five program that I was even able to meet Seto and Mokuba.”

“Who are they?”

“You’ve been talking inside my head for a year and you haven’t seen my memories?”

“I’m merely a guide. I figured it was better to not intrude on your memories.”

Reika looked at her, considering. Yes, it would be easy to agree and block Azila from her mind, but… maybe it’d be easier to just allow the spirit to see who she was. It was easier than saying it out loud, at least.

“It’s okay. If you want to go into my head you can. Seto is my boyfriend. Mokuba is his younger brother. Mokuba is the kid that was dragged in by Kemo last night when Croquet was dragging me back here,” she explained softly. “Seto took over a company from his adoptive father. They make games for children.”

“I assume this ‘takeover’ was not peaceful?”

“His stepfather jumped out the window after he lost. The company originally built tools made for war. Seto hated it and changed it, and it caused a bit of an uproar with some of the employees.”

“Do the rulers not make their own tools for war anymore?” Azila questioned. Her tone seemed annoyed, more than anything.

“Everything is made everywhere, it seems. Some parts are made in Japan, some in the United States,” Reika said, pausing when the ghost seemed confused. “Never mind. My parents wouldn’t tell me much anyway, since I was a kid, and then Leichter shielded me from most of it after they disappeared, and when Seto took over the company… I didn’t bother to ask.”

Azila tilted her head. “Were there other children at this KaibaCorp?”

She paused, setting her empty bowl down on the table. “Each of Gozaburo’s top executives had a child they brought around once in a while. It was called the Young Five Program. We learned about business under them, and Gozaburo was kind enough to pay for dance lessons and music lessons for us.”

“Was this Gozaburo some sort of king?”

Reika snorted, although there was little humor in it. “If anything, he likened himself to a sort of god.”

Azila’s eyes widened. “He wielded such power?”

“Gozaburo was a cowardly fool who liked to talk big,” Reika spat, glancing over at the spirit. “He only thought he had that sort of power, until he was outsmarted at his own game, and erased from this world, like he never existed at all…” she trailed off, suddenly lost in her own memories.

“I feel like you are no longer talking about Gozaburo.”

Her eyes glazed over briefly as she looked at the trees beyond her window. “It’s nothing.”

They were cut off at the sound of footsteps again, Azila disappearing just as Croquet unlocked and opened the door.

“Master Pegasus would like to see you now.”

“What’s with the prisoner treatment, Croquet? I was told I was getting a VIP experience,” she said dryly, following the man back to the too-large room.

“They were Master Pegasus’ orders,” he said simply. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Lots of people just ‘do their jobs’. Doesn’t mean it’s a good thing,” she spat before entering the room and staring down Pegasus, who was looking at her with a smug grin that had her dread returning as she took a seat.

“I hope you slept well, Reika-girl,” he began, sipping at a glass of wine.

“I slept as well as anyone could, given the whole blackmail thing,” she replied.

Pegasus’ face screwed into a pout that seemed unbecoming of a CEO of a multi-billion dollar company. “You and Kaiba-boy have such a flare for the dramatics. It really is no wonder you two are together, and trust me, I could be making your little stay here so much worse . But… you and I are friends now, right?”

“Friends don’t blackmail their friends into telling them their deepest, darkest secrets,” she spat. “We aren’t friends.”

“We just got off on the wrong foot is all.”

She reached for the wine glass in front of her. If she could get a bit of a buzz, it might ease her tension. “I have to say, I don’t exactly feel like a VIP… what with being locked in my room all day.”

“I do apologize for that. I had some business to take care of. I believe you’ll be quite interested in what I have to show you.”

Reika quirked a brow, but turned her attention to the screen in front of her, the calm demeanor vanishing instantly.

Her boyfriend and her cousin, already locked in a duel.

“Why are they dueling?”

“The only way into my castle is to win ten star chips. As Kaiba-boy has none, he needed to get some in a hurry. Your cousin was the easiest target,” Pegasus said with a shrug.

There was the sinister tone again, and Reika watched the duel with dread, downing another large gulp of wine.

“If Kaiba-boy wins this duel, he’ll be playing the hero instead of the villain. Aren’t you proud of him?” Pegasus asked.

“Let me guess, the villain is you?” she asked dryly.

“If that’s how you want to look at it, yes. Kaiba-boy certainly seems to think so.”

“With good reason, seeing as you’re helping to stage a coup at his company. Surely, there was a better way to handle this?” she hadn’t exactly taken to the business life Leichter had been trying to teach her about, but hostile takeovers and kidnapping didn’t seem to be the best route.

“What can I say? I love the drama of it all.”

Reika’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t dare say anything further. He still had her grandfather, after all.

“When did Seto get here?” she finally asked quietly.

“Last night.”

More questions filled her head. Did Seto know she was here? Had Yugi told him? Had they managed to come up with a plan to beat Pegasus at his own game?

But no, as the duel continued, it was increasingly clear that there was no secret agreement between them, no master plan to stop Pegasus. Which was probably for the best - Pegasus could read minds, after all.

Except for hers.

If she got the chance to see Yugi or Seto, she knew she’d have to be careful with what she told him. If he faced off against Pegasus, she didn’t want to run the risk of him seeing something he shouldn’t.

Her hands curled into fists on her lap as the duel continued, afraid she would shatter something if she held onto anything.

And then, she watched in horror as Seto backed up to the ledge of the castle, taunting Yugi about the shockwaves that could push him off and into the forest below.

Bile rose in her throat.

There would be no winner of this duel.

She watched Yugi suddenly return to normal, calling off the attack right before it was too late, forfeiting the duel. She wasn’t mad at either of them - she couldn’t be. They were both pawns in a twisted game.

“Well, that was quite an exciting duel, wouldn’t you agree, Reika-girl?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” she rasped. She couldn’t muster the energy for anger at this point.

“Mm, well, all the same. I think it’s time we congratulate the winner before the next duel starts, don’t you?”

“What are you talking about?”

Pegasus grinned as he rose to his feet. “Why, I’ll be dueling Kaiba-boy next, of course. And it wouldn’t be right of me to not allow you to see him after so long. Consider it a gift from a friend.”

“Allowing me to see my boyfriend. You must be the best friend I’ve never had,” she spat, standing on weak legs and following Pegasus out of the room.

Seto stood at the beginning of a long hallway, a sign pointing toward a duel arena just behind his shoulder. His face was twisted into one of pure loathing, which turned into confusion as he spotted her.

“Kaiba-boy, what a match! I knew that fire was still in you!” Pegasus said, pointedly ignoring Reika’s presence.

“Let’s just get this over with. I have a brother and a company to save,” Seto’s voice was nothing but venom.

Pegasus rolled his eyes. “You and your dramatics. I know our deal. I’ll be dueling you soon enough, but there are some things I need to prepare in the arena first. I’ll give you time to get reacquainted with Reika-girl, hmm?”

He sauntered off, leaving the two alone.

She closed the gap between them, wrapping her arms tight around him. For a second, it was like nothing was wrong, that they were just hugging each other because it had been a year since she’d been in his arms. But that bliss didn’t last when she realized she was shaking.

“Reika… what are you doing here?”

“He invited me to be a VIP, but Seto, he’s got my grandfather hostage, and… he knows about us.”

“Wh - you mean about us dating?”

She nodded. “He read Mokuba’s mind,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You’ve known me for six years. You think I’d lie about something like that?” she scoffed, pulling back.

“I think he’s just messing with your head. Trust me, it’s what he does,” Seto said, cupping her cheek. His eyes were a brilliant shade of blue that showed his ire toward Pegasus, and yet a flicker of fear just beneath the surface. “I’m going to beat him.”

She wanted to scream that there was a very, very high chance that he would not , but she didn’t have the energy to argue, instead she nodded in agreement. “I know.”

Lie.

Seto’s thumb stroked her cheek gently, before he bent to kiss her. As soon as his lips met hers, she melted into the touch, gripping his jacket tight in her fists. It was a kiss of passion, of everything she wished she could say but couldn’t.

“Oh, young love is such a beautiful thing.”

They broke apart, but Seto’s grip tightened against her back, pulling her closer against his chest as he stared coldly at Pegasus. “Are we dueling or not?”

Pegasus smirked, watching them with a critical gaze. “Of course we are. You can head to the arena whenever you’re ready. Croquet, please escort Reika-girl to the balcony so she can watch the duel.”

It felt like she was walking to a funeral.

“Reika!” Yugi called.

She forced a smile, forced her face to be calm, and prayed her eyes weren’t giving her away. “Hey Yugi,” she said, glancing over at the trio of not-duelists. “I thought you told me your friends weren’t allowed to come?”

“Pegasus made an exception,” Tristan said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Reika quirked a brow. “You snuck on the boat, didn’t you?”

Tristan pulled a face. “What? No don’t be ridiculous Reika! We’re VIP’s, just like you!”

She deadpanned. “Uh-huh. Well, far be it from me to tell you off for sneaking in somewhere.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged casually, leaning against the railing. “My friend Sanji and I snuck into a 21-and-over casino when I was still in the States.”

“You did what?!” Yugi snapped.

“It was fine, Yugi, don’t worry about it,” she said dismissively.

Lie.

It had been an infiltration mission. She had mingled on the casino floor to get intel while Sanji had gone deep underground to find their friends that had been taken hostage. She had gotten into an altercation with Miss All-Sunday of Baroque Works, and the night had ended with Luffy nearly being buried alive in the Alabastan desert.

Yugi gave her a look that said he didn’t quite believe her, but didn’t push the subject further. Instead, he turned toward the tall blonde woman that had come in with them. “Reika, this is Mai Valentine. She’s one of the competitors here and she helped us out a lot!”

Reika smiled. “Hey, nice to meet you. I’m Reika Muto, Yugi’s cousin.”

“So you’re the famous Reika I’ve heard so much about this weekend. It’s nice to meet you,” Mai replied with a smile, shaking her hand.

“Attention: The exhibition match between Seto Kaiba and Maximillion Pegasus is about to begin,” Croquet’s voice suddenly cut through.

“Who are we supposed to root for?” Joey muttered.

Tristan frowned. “Can they just destroy each other?”

“Tristan, that’d mean we lose the one chance we have of saving Mr. Muto!” Bakura’s voice was nothing short of horrified. “I think all we can do is pray Pegasus doesn’t make any dirty tricks like he did with Yugi…”

“That might be wishful thinking…” Téa said quietly as Pegasus entered the arena and began making a fuss about the disks Seto had brought with him. When he called out for Mokuba, Reika’s heart stopped.

He’d gotten to Mokuba too.

She knew the duel was over before it even started.

“This is so messed up…” Téa whispered, Mokuba led away. “Why would he do something like this?”

“Because he has no soul,” Reika muttered. “This is going to be a disaster.”

The duel - if it could even be called that after one duelist read the others’ mind until they ran out of moves - was a bloodbath, and Seto ran out of cards in only a few turns.

“Well Kaiba-boy, it looks like I’ve won the duel and your company. But don’t worry, you’ll see your brother again,” Pegasus pulled an empty card out of his jacket pocket, and she had to force herself not to jump across the chasm, Croquet’s gun be damned.

Seto’s eyes flickered up at her a second before they became dull and listless. Hollow.

“Teach him to wash dishes or something!” Pegasus sneered as guards came to lead Seto away.

She hung her head, swallowing back the bile that kept threatening to overtake her. It wouldn’t be that hard to get to Pegasus. With Yugi and the others now in the castle, she doubted she would be watched and locked away like a prisoner. Surely, she could leave her room whenever she wanted and follow Pegasus wherever he was going. She could use force to get what she wanted.

She’d done it before.

“All he wanted to do was save his little brother… and all I want to do is save Grandpa. This isn’t fair…” Yugi murmured. “Reika…”

“What?” She couldn’t stop her voice from cracking.

“Are you okay?”

It was then she felt six pairs of eyes on her, reality came back into focus, and she stared at them.

Even if she wanted to lie, she knew she couldn’t - she could feel the exhaustion deep in her bones and knew it was probably clear on her face. “No. I’m not okay.”

“You’re upset about Kaiba? Why? He’s - ”

“My friend,” she snapped, staring at Joey with narrowed eyes. “He’s my friend, okay?”

“Kaiba has friends? After everything he’s done?”

Her eyebrow twitched in frustration. “Big talk for someone who bullied my cousin.”

“Wh - ”

“You think I don’t know what you did to Yugi before you magically became his friend?”

Yugi’s eyes widened in confusion. “I - I never told you that, Reika…”

“You didn’t have to. Your classmate Miho is my friend’s little sister. He’s the one that told me,” she explained. “So tell me, Joey, if you can have a friend - especially my cousin - why can’t Seto Kaiba?”

Joey opened his mouth, ready to retort, but Croquet’s gravelly voice cut him off.

“Dinner is served. Please follow me to the dining room.”

“That was an impressive show,” Mai said, slinging her arm around Reika’s shoulders. “But I guess that’s to be expected from anyone who can be friendly with someone like Kaiba.”

A small, genuine laugh managed to escape her. “You just have to know how to deal with him. It’s not that impressive when you’ve been doing it so long. But as for Joey, well…” she shrugged casually, watching the group with Yugi, Joey’s loud voice echoing through the hall. “He’s just lucky I wasn’t there before his transformation from bully to friend.”

“Feisty. I like you. I think we could be good friends.”

“I would like that, Mai,” she said as they took their seats at the long dining table.

Dinner was a blur, and as they were led to the rooms, Yugi followed her straight to hers.

“Reika… can we talk?”

She gave him a tired smile. “Always.”

“I’m scared about tomorrow,” Yugi admitted, sitting on the loveseat. “You know how we talked about our items having ghosts in them?”

She nodded.

“Mine… he… he can do magic. He keeps doing magic. I don’t know how! But the worst part was when he didn’t even flinch at the thought of Kaiba being knocked off a tower during our duel tonight.”

Reika pressed her lips together. “Have you… talked to him?”

“I’m scared to. What if he tries to hurt me?”

She sighed. “Yugi…”

“I’m serious! Dueling can kill people, especially with him around!”

“So don’t wear the puzzle when you duel.”

Yugi looked as if she’d slapped him. “I can’t not wear it! I… feel a bond with it. I don’t know what would happen if I didn’t.”

“Okay, then talk to him.”

“But…”

Reika frowned. “You don’t have many options here, Yugi, especially if you want to be at the top of your game.”

He sighed. “I know… I’m just afraid that dueling is only going to cause more trouble.”

That sparked an idea, and she rose to her feet, going to her bag. “Dueling, huh? Do you have your deck on you?”

“Yeah, why?”

She returned to her chair, setting her own deck on the table between them. “Practice on me. I’m not afraid of you, or the spirit in your puzzle.”

Yugi looked hesitant, but swallowed thickly and pulled out his deck. “A-alright… let’s duel.”

He started off hesitant, but slowly, he came into his own once again, and by the time he’d beaten her, the spirit was smiling, relaxed.

“You see?” she said, taking her cards and shuffling them again. “All you need to do is work together, and you’ll be just fine tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Reika. Goodnight.”

She collapsed onto the bed, her mind whirling

“It’s up to you now, Yugi,” she whispered into the darkness.

[ablogthatishenceforthmine]

Thoughts on Korra and Mako’s Break Up

So, one of the things I knew before watching the series was that Mako would betray Korra, and then break up with her. Everything i’ve seen about this event made me think that I would be angry at Mako, and take Korra’s side. But actually watching it now... that’s not the case?

Do I think Mako was completely right? No, I do think he was mostly right. Both he and Korra messed up in this situation. But, I think Korra messed up more than he did. 

So, this post is probably going to seem pretty negative toward Korra. But, the point of this post isn’t to bash her. And i’m not bashing her. I love Korra. She is easily my favorite LOK character so far.  But she is my favorite character because he is soooo flawed. And those flaws are just so apparent, in a way which the hero character’s flaws usually aren’t. She is just such a messy person, and she makes mistakes, big and small, all the time. So even though this post is quite critical of Korra, just now that these mistakes and flaws I describe here are part of the reason I love her.

So, I’m going to go through their conflict one step at a time.

One: Advice/Support

In season 2, Korra often asks Mako what he thinks, or asks for advice. However, it’s clear that most of the time, she just wants him to agree with her, and support the choice she is inclined too. There are a few moments in the beginning of Season 2, however, where he actually does this, and she is unhappy with that too, such as when she asks what he thinks about training with Unalaq. For me, this moment, and others like it, Mako offers vague support instead of decisive advice because he genuinely does not know what the right or best thing to do is. And I get why this is frustrating for Korra, because being an Avatar is hard, and she wants help... it just that Mako isn’t really equipped to give advice and help with Avatar stuff.

However, Korra only sees to actually want his advice when she is uncertain. When she’s already make up her mind, she just wants wants his agreement and support, not his actual opinions. Whenever he gives advice or suggests something or speaks out against something that she wants to do or believes, she dismisses him. In "”Peacekeepers,” he tells her she should try to stay neutral and not take part in the Southern Water tribe’s peaceful protest. She is annoyed at his disagreement, and goes to the protest. He tells her that the attack was started by a firebender, and doesn’t think it’s necessarily the Northern water tribe. Korra doesn’t listen to him, and won’t consider the possibility that someone other than the Northern Water Tribe was responsible for the attack. After the president of Republic City refuses to send troops to help the Southern Tribe, Korra immediately views him as her enemy. When Mako tries to explain the president’s side of things to Korra, she doesn’t listen, and accuses him of not supporting her.

In almost all of these things, I agree with Mako. But in one of them, I do agree with Korra: going to the protest, and whether the Avatar should stay neutral. I like how the show is bringing up questions about what role the Avatar should play in the work. In ATLA, Aang’s role and what he should be trying to accomplish was obvious. But in LOK, it’s not so obvious for Korra.  Being the Avatar shouldn’t always been being neutral; sometimes, it should mean taking a stand for the right side. Should Avatars start wars? Or should their only job be to resolve them, to create peace? But what if peace can only come about through war? I do think Korra was right to start a civil war. Unalaq was clearly oppressing the people of the Southern Water Tribe he stole the throne through dubious means, and he held a fake trial, getting opponents locked up. And Korra should stay neutral here? Her public support could really make a difference.

But on everything else, I agree with Mako. He is clearly right about the bombing at the protest being more than it seemed, and Korra is being stubborn and blind by refusing to even consider another possibility. He’s also right that she should try to see the president’s side of things. Korra has a tendency to view anyone who doesn’t agree with her or who doesn’t do what she wants them to do as the enemy. But, I understand where the president is coming from, and so does Mako, and he tries to get Korra to see it too. War is complicated, but Korra just wants the president to just rush into it. It’s unclear how much the president and the public knows. Do they know a lot, or only that there is a civil war? It would be better if the show was clearer on this. But even if the president does have all the information, it’s not bad to want to explore other options first, and see if the problem can be solved diplomatically. We know that there is no chance of dealing with Unalaq with diplomacy, but the president doesn’t, so it makes sense that he would want to explore options that didn’t involve going to war. I’m not saying the president’s decision is the right one, I’m just saying that it’s an understandable one. We, and Korra and Mako, haven’t seen much of him. but he hasn’t shown any signs that he is incompetent, cruel, or corrupt. So Mako is right, Korra should try to hear what the president is saying and not view him as an enemy.

So anyway, Mako and Korra have clear issues communicating. For me, the fault is mostly at Korra; she does not take criticism or disagreement well. But I also think there are things Mako could do better here. Korra likes to feel supported, to a larger than normal degree. She needs people to trust and support her. I think this comes from actually being pretty insecure. She spent her whole life sheltered, protected, and kinda controlled. So, it makes sense that she is drawn to people who say they believe in her, and believe in her ability to make good choices. This is why Korra is so easily manipulated. For most of her life, she had a feeling that people didn’t trust and believe in her enough, they kept her from being a part of the larger world. And if there is one thing that Korra hates it’s someone holding her back, or someone she perceives as holding her back. So, Korra’s lashing out at any hint that someone is doubting her makes sense. I don’t think Mako had made it super clear that he supports the civil war, and that saving her family and her tribe is important too him. I’m sure he does, and i’m sure it is. But he could go a better job of making it clear, cause it seems like Korra thinks he doesn’t care about her family or the Southern Water tribe.

Two: The Betrayal

And then there is the betrayal, which I actually don’t think is that bad. For basically the sole reason that Korra’s plan is a TERRIBLE one. She wants to go behind the president’s back, and get his military to go to war with the Northern Water Tribe. This is basically a military coup. TERRIBLE IDEA. This could have such horrible consequences. The only circumstances she should do this is if the president is corrupt or tyrannical, which doesn’t seem to be the case. The Avatar staging a military coup could have huge and far-reaching consequences, and upsets the balance in their society. I mean, what could this do for Avatar-government relations throughout the world?

And it’s not like there aren’t other options. At the end of the episode, she goes to ask the Fire Nation for help. Surely, asking the other nations for aid should have been attempted before staging a military coup. Hell, maybe she should have tried rallying support with the people of the Northern Water Tribe, exposing Unalaq and telling them how he got the throne. Unalaq’s soldier’s and the people close to him are still going to support him, but the general public of the Northern Water Tribe? We haven’t seen much of them, but it’s hard to believe at least some of them wouldn’t have a problem with Unalaq after learning the truth. And if his people turn against him, that’s a big blow to him. AND it might make it easier for the president and the United Forces to step in, if‘s not longer just a civil war but a rebellion, where his own people don’t even want him to lead. Everyone would be against him, and thus, it would be less complicated for the United Forces to get involved.  Hell, Korra could have tried rallying and gaining support in Republic City, and hope that public pressure could make the president take action

Point is, there are many different things Korra could have tried before staging a military coup. So, going to General Iroh, and trying to get the United Forces help the Southern Water Tribe behind the president’s back is a really bad idea. And yes, when they talk, they plan it so that the president will not know. But it is a terribly flimsy plan and there is very little likelihood that the president won’t find out.

So considering the terrible consequences this actions could have not just for Korra, but for Republic City and the world, Mako is right to betray her. I think he should have gone to her first and tried to convince her out of the plan. But, as stated above, Korra doesn’t really listen to him. So I can understand why he wouldn’t. Still, because they care about each other and are in a relationship, he should have tried it this way first. Maybe he could have told her his dilemma, and that if she goes through with the plan, he feels he will have to tell the president. But, at the end of the day, stopping Korra’s stupid plan feels like the right decision. However, it’s unclear how much Mako’s decision is about doing the right thing and much much it was about his duty as a cop (ew). So it’s hard to tell if Mako made the right decision for the right reasons or or the wrong reasons.

Three: The Breakup

The way Korra handles the betrayal is immature and wildly inappropriate. After learning of his betrayal, she bursts into the police station, his place of work, and starts  yelling at him in front of his colleagues. She airbends his desk, destroying it. Which, to me, feels like the equivalent of punching a wall in the middle of a fight. She has a right to be angry, but in no way, is doing any of this okay. This is not why Mako breaks up with Korra, but, still, I can’t fault him for doing so after this. Korra is not good at handling her emotions (another of her flaws that makes me love her). She needs to learn how to deal with and express them in appropriate ways. So yeah, this is another situation where Korra is in the wrong. Although the stated reason for why the broke up, is that they are both too busy and devoted to their jobs, is kinda dumb.