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damn-stark · 3 years

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Survivor

Chapter 5 of Cherry

A/N: I really hope you guys like this and I promise there will be more Reiner and rc interactions ;)

Warning- Angst, SLOWBURN, Violence, LONG CHAPTER! Talks of death and blood.

Pairing- Jean Kirstein x reader, Reiner Braun x reader

Episodes- 1x17

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“Squad I’d like to present you to Cherry,” Levi introduces you to his own squad who quietly watch you with eyes filled with curiosity.

“It’s y/n,” you correct him through gritted teeth, as a happy smile spreads on your lips while you finally had the honor to meet the squad he had spoken about in his letters.

“It’s the same thing,” he remarks nonchalantly.

“Not really, because one is my actual name and the other—”

“Y/N? You’re alive!” You hear a voice exclaim before your eyes wander to the entrance of the room where you notice Eren walking in with his eyes wide and filled with a surprise and a bit of joy.

“Eren!” You exclaim happily, “you’re okay, right?”

Said boy walks over to you and nods to answer your concern filled question. “Yeah, I’m alright, are you? Are the rest of our friends?”

You hesitate at the sound of his question, feeling your smile falter at the memory of one friend who wasn’t so lucky to have made it. Eren doesn’t catch your fault though, his green eyes remain filled with concern whilst he waits for your answer that never came as Levi interrupted you. “Cherry, listen.”

You tear your eyes away from Eren and focus on Levi and nod, “right,” before you look back to the four members of his special operations squad. “I’m y/n.”

Levi eyes roll to you and then slide to his squad members, not giving them any kind of audible signal before they all begin to introduce themselves, starting with a tall blonde man that had his hair picked up and sported a goatee on his chin. “I’m Eld Gin.”

“I’m Gunther Schultz,” A dark haired man said right after, pulling your attention to him and letting you recognize that some of these members looked familiar, you probably had seen them before but you weren’t sure now. There were too many soldiers to keep track of, you only talked to the ones you saw the most.

“Hi, I’m Petra Rall,” the only woman in his squad spoke not so long after, offering you a small smile that you returned before your eyes landed on one last man with his light brown hair styled in a nice undercut haircut. One you couldn’t help but notice off the bat appeared a bit odd to you...appearance wise anyways—“Oruo Bozad.” He said nonchalantly with his arms crossed over his chest.

Slowly you tear your gaze away from him and give all the members one last look before you look at Levi beside you. “And of course,” he continued, “you know Eren.”

You nod and a grin slowly spreads on your lips as you solely look at Levi and grab his arm to ask one last thing excitedly. “So does this mean I can join, Levi squad?!”

“Yeah, can she?” Eren asks after you in a more hopeful tone. Perhaps because he was hopeful he’d have someone his age in the squad. But that wouldn't be the case.

Levi’s blue eyes shift to you and his eyes narrow before he shakes his head. “No. But you can earn your spot like they did and then we can talk.”

“Tsk.” You pull your hands away from his arm and sigh in disappointment.

“But,” he added as he unfolded his arms and shoved his hand in his pocket to pull out a folded parchment paper. “Here. It’s for you.” He says in a mischievous tone that you only caught as you took the paper and he began to walk out of the room. “I’ll give you a few minutes to talk to them before you have to rejoin the recruits.”

Before you could try to input something concerning the paper, or the fact that your friends were taking a tour of the grounds that you knew by heart, Levi leaves the room with all eyes on the paper he had given you. “Open it,” Eren points to the paper in your hand. You look down at it and think for a moment, before you pout at the realization of what he had given you so publicly.

“Why don’t you?” You sigh, as you hand him the paper and sit back in a chair to rest your chin on your hand as you prop your elbow on the table beside you.

Erens green eyes lifted from the paper in his hand to look at you with his eyebrows pinched together and his fingers under the fold. “Are you sure?”

“Knock yourself out,” you mutter bitterly, noticing the rest of the squad all had knowing smirks on their faces as Erens curiosity got the best of him. Like you, they knew that the paper didn’t contain anything worthwhile, Eren on the other hand still was getting to know who Levi truly was and expected to read something juicy. But as he unfolded on the paper, and his eyes scanned the inside, his eyes lost their spark, and his smile fell. He slowly lowered his hand and turned to look at you with his face twisted.

“It’s a chores list?”

“Yeah,” you groan as you drop your head to the table's surface. “I knew it. Ughh…”

“It says,” Eren interjects, “you can help the Levi Squad with their chores.”

“Stab my leg won’t you?” You grumble to the wooden table, hearing a few of the other members snicker, whilst Eren still had the need to remark to you.

“Why didn't you ever tell me?”

“What was she going to tell you, Eren?” You hear one of the guy members ask him in a playful tone, “that our captain was a clean freak? It would have ruined the illusion and his reputation.”

You pick up your head only far enough so you could peek one eye out, noticing that it had been Eld who had just commented that. “Plus, it’s always funny seeing the newcomers realize that Levi isn’t just Humanity’s greatest soldier.” You snicker, making everyone laugh and nod in agreement. “And you thought I was a clean freak before,” you smirk, “you hadn’t met him yet...you’re still getting to know him.” You fully lift your head to see him with both eyes, barely catching as Eren throws your chores list back to you with a look of disappointment expressed all over his face. “I hope he’s been treating you well.”

“Well he still has me sleeping down in the basement,”

Eren comments bitterly, “but I mean, I understand why he would. Besides that he isn’t bad.”

“Good,” you say before your attention gets suddenly interrupted by Oruo.

“Say kid, where is it the Captain got you from? Are you really his kid?”

“Uh,” you voice, catching his comrade Petra shaking her head at his comment while the others just sigh before you continue unsurely and confused. “He got me from his doorstep?” You blink a few times and notice he seemed to be deep in thought. “Levi is not my actual father...he—” you abruptly cut yourself off as your eyes refocus on the way his hair was styled in an undercut, the way he kept his face so nonchalant and had a similar cravat to Levi’s. You also couldn’t help but notice the way he stood and tried to keep his posture, his voice also began to echo in your mind and you couldn’t help but pick out the similarity there too. It was all something that made you slowly grin.

“...I see now,” you comment to him smugly, whilst your eyes scanned his outfit and lifted back on his face. “Your cravat is a shade off. And,” you pause to stand up and shift your posture and change your voice to mock Levi’s, “you should stand like this and lower your voice a bit more.”

Oruos eyes widened but he’s quick to catch himself, quick to turn down what you suggested to him as his comrades burst into laughter and Eren seemed a bit lost. “I don’t know what you’re talking about brat.”

You smirk and change back to your own posture and voice. “It’s okay, I find it funny.”

“Oruo,” Petra interjected, “don’t talk to the Captain's kid like that.”

“It’s okay,” you assure them, “I don’t mind, but really,” you then change your voice and your expression to once again mock Levi’s. “It’s like this.” You smile brightly and switch back to your own voice. “It was an honor meeting you all.” You begin to walk to the door and continue. “I guess I’ll see you all later, for now I have to go before he comes back and gets me in trouble.” Your eyes shift to Eren and you wave at him. “See ya later, Eren.”

As far as first days go, this first day as an official Scout was like the rest. There were introductions, touring, assignments, schedules on the classes every new recruit needed to attend to memorize Erwins formation for the expedition that everyone was going to join. Something that surprised you because from what you did pick up before you left, usually the new recruits wouldn’t attend the expedition, not until they had proper time to memorize the map. But this time it was different. But then again, perhaps it was just a new normal now.

And it’s not like you could just skip these classes, you were a recruit now. It was an obligation. Just like your chores were too. Nonetheless you preferred chores over the classes that you had to admit were dreadfully boring. No matter how much you claimed to like learning, these weren’t really the classes you wanted. Not only that, but learning that as recruits you were going to go on your first expedition in a month was really hard, for some more than the others. It was a good thing that reuniting with Eren lifted some of your friends' spirits after hearing such heavy news. Yours on the other hand lasted until the night.

As night rolled around, as you lay in your bunk and closed your eyes, sleep came but soon was interrupted by the same nightmare you’ve had the past month; the one where you’re underground again, basked in darkness and cornered by the dead bodies of Furlan and Isabel. Only this time, Marcos' body was there too. The darkness was invasive but you knew he was there now too; haunting your dreams and not letting you get any sleep out of fear of both the dark and their bloodied bodies.

You tried rolling to your other side, tried to find assurance in the orange-red flame from the candlelight that casted your body's shadow on the wall beside you, but it didn’t work. So instead of trying to sleep again, you quietly roll off of bed and grab a book from under your bed, quietly grab your candlelight and carefully tiptoe out of the girls bunk room to walk towards Levi’s room. You knew he hardly slept, so you knew going to him in the middle of the night was always welcomed. Not like he cared if you were there when he was sleeping too.

When you got to the outside of his door, you saw the soft candlelight peeking out from under the door and expected him to be awake. But as you knocked once and slowly opened the door after no answer, you were welcomed with the sight of him slouched over his desk fast asleep. You softly huffed out at the sight and quietly closed the door after you, walking in and placing your book on the bed to instead grab his pillow and blanket. “How many times,” you whisper to yourself as you make your way to where he is. “Have I told him to sleep on his bed?”

There was no point in trying to move him to his bed, you knew if you tried he’d wake up the moment you lifted him from the chair. So instead you did the thing you always did; you threw the blanket over his body, very gently picked up his head to move his things to the side and instead slide the pillow under his head, so he wouldn’t have to lay on the hard surface. “There you go,” you continue to whisper as you successfully step back without waking him up. “Goodnight, Levi.” You smile softly, turning back around to grab your book and lay on his bed to read instead. Finding comfort in hearing his soft snores fill the candlelit room; smiling to yourself as you read the book you were rereading and unknowingly passing out after some time. Much to Levi’s surprise as he woke up not so much longer after.

He groggily lifted his head off the pillow he was surprised to be laying on, and kept his eyes on you for a few minutes to try and realize that this wasn’t a dream. You were in fact back. When that realization hit him he didn’t hesitate to push himself off his chair, grabbing the blanket that slid off his body and the pillow on his desk. He quietly stepped to the side of the bed and threw the blanket over your curled up body, lifting your head to pull away the book that you were accidentally drooling on and placing the same pillow you left him, under your own head.

Before he sat back on his chair, he slowly leaned in to gently stroke your cheek with his knuckle as he still couldn’t believe the person he was seeing. He couldn’t help but sigh deeply as his mind tried to process the fact that you had aged up so much in the past three years he hadn’t seen you. He couldn’t help but notice that your face had changed, that your body had matured and was still doing so, that your eyes didn’t carry the same innocent glow they once did. He had wanted to keep you protected from all the ugliness the world had, but it was impossible, he knew that the moment he found you on his doorstep. Yet throughout the years he couldn’t help but be delusional to that certain fact.

He couldn’t be that way anymore, you both knew that. No matter how much he wanted to keep you secured under the security of his cape, and in the warmth of his arms. He had to let you spread your own wings now, experience for yourself all the dangers he dreaded you facing, everything life had to offer you. All he could do now was watch you grow, advise and protect you when he could without completely smothering you. He couldn’t help but think if this was the same good type of heartache his own mother suffered as she raised him...he just never expected to get so attached.

——

“Cherry seed.”

Your eyes fly to Jean after that nickname spills out of his mouth, and as you're sitting across from him you shoot him a feigned smile and snap back, “horse face.”

His dark eyebrows furrow and he scoffs, “don’t call me that.”

“Then don’t call me what you just did, two can play at that game and I'd hate to see you lose.” You remark while a smirk pulls on the corner of your lips.

Jean just shoots you a pointed glare before he takes a spoonful of his breakfast and changes the subject. “Where have you been? I didn’t see you all of yesterday, I almost forgot you existed.”

“I was busy,” you shrug as you prop your elbows on the table. “But you’ll see more of me from now on. I get no special treatment so I’ll be stuck as if I were actually new here.”

“Oh how poor of you.” Jean feigns pity before taking another spoonful of breakfast. “To be stuck with us fresh meat and not get an immediate promotion.”

“It truly does suck,” you answer sarcastically whilst you rest your chin on your hand and feign a pout. “To think I could’ve been your captain.”

“To think I lost such great honor.” He sighs deeply and then can’t help but mirror your faint smile before he focuses back on his breakfast, sliding his eyes to your empty space on the table. “You should eat,” he mutters with food in his mouth, “you’ve been skipping breakfast too much already.”

You sigh and roll out “I will,” slowly before you rest your head on your other hand.

“And don’t be giving it to Sasha,” he continues to scold you “and pretend you ate it either.”

“I will,” you repeat a bit more sharply; knowing that he wouldn't be the only one nagging you about missed meals anymore. You knew you had other sets of eyes watching you now too—“so,” you continue to change the subject. “How was your first night as a Scout, Hmm?”

“Right now it feels just like when I was a Cadet.” He shares, “it doesn’t feel any different and I don’t suspect it will until our first expedition.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Jeans eyes leave your slouched figure in front of him and catches the tall blonde walking your way. “Reiner is coming this way.” He tells you as he looks back at his plate.

You lift your head from your hand and straighten out your posture, trying to fight the temptation not to look at him over your shoulder and instead keeping your focus on Jean. “Quick, how do I look?”

“Like you’ve been lacking sleep for sixteen years.” He remarks, causing you to shoot him an icy glare before he continues to toruture you. “Now is your chance to tell him how you feel.”

You laugh nervously and shake your head. “Are you crazy? No.”

“You know he likes you,” Jean points out, “what’s the worst thing that can happen?”

“Uh, he can hear me.” You spat out. “And I embarrass myself.” You peek over your shoulder and feel your heart clench in your chest. “How about this,” you continue as you look back at Jean. “You tell Mikasa how you feel and I tell Reiner how I feel, yeah?”

Before Jean could answer, the man you had been talking about comes and sits beside you, sliding a plate of hot breakfast to you as he also puts down his own. “Thought you were running on an empty stomach.” He tells you, “you should eat. Wouldn’t want you passing out in the middle of training.”

You fully turn your head to the side and smile shyly, pulling your plate closer to you and sharing a quick lingering look with Reiner. “Thank you,” you mutter, tearing your gaze away as you caught Bertholdt sitting next to Reiner, noticing as you were looking back at your food that Jean was trying hard not to laugh at you. You ignore him however and hesitantly take a bite out of the breakfast Reiner brought you, swallowing before briefly glancing at Reiner and Bertholdt to address your concerned question to them. “How are you guys doing?”

“Well,” Reiner sighs, “the past couple days have really been something, but we’ll pull through. We always have.”

“Yeah,” Bertholdt agrees as his eyes leave Reiner and turn to you. “Reiner is right. You don’t have to worry about us, y/n. How are you?”

You shrug. “I’ll be alright.” You look at your food and take in another small spoonful, letting Jean's comment about Reiner echo in your mind, but nothing else beside that before your train of thought was interrupted as Connie, Sasha, Ymir, Krista, Mikasa, Armin and Eren sat at the same table. They all had their breakfasts and a more lighthearted look on their faces than the ones they carried yesterday. Sasha especially, as she seemed to be angsty to talk to you as she sat at your side and didn’t hesitate to address you.

“So y/n, is y/n your real name? Or is it Cherry?”

You lift your eyes from your plate and slowly slide them to Sasha, noticing that all of your friends' eyes were intently on you. “It’s y/n. Cherry is just something that Levi and some of the Scouts call me.”

“Why?” Krista probes.

“Well Levi does because,” your mind wanders to the story he had told you about the nickname, and you decide it’s too long to tell them at the moment. “Well it’s a long story, but Cherry is something he called me, and the scouts, well, when I came here, I introduced myself with my nickname, so it stuck.”

“Oh well you’re lucky,” Sasha continues with a goofy smile. “You’re nicknamed after a fruit!” Her brown eyes glow with excitement as she grabs your arm a little too tightly. “Can I call you Cherry from now on?”

“Uh, sure.” You shrug nonchalantly, looking at Krista as she also continued speaking.

“That’s such a sweet name, can I call you that too?”

“Go ahead.” You answer, knowing that you couldn’t be rude and say no.

“Hey,” Eren chimed in, “Hange said that the reason Levi calls you that is because you were...”

“It doesn’t matter,” you quickly cut off Eren, shooting him a warning glare before you avoid all the curious stares and begin eating again.

“Tell us what you heard, Eren.” Ymir commented smugly, shooting you a taunting look that you felt burning into your skull. “You can’t leave us hanging now.”

Again you tear your gaze away from your food and shoot Eren a cold warning look that he took as a sign to just be quiet and ignore Ymir instead. She kept pestering him, like Connie and Sasha did too, but he didn’t give in. The stare you shot him engraved into his head and scared him from saying the rest, whilst also reminding him too much of his captain's chilling look. That, or well the sight of Levi passing by you to place a cup of tea by your plate just made him avoid the subject completely. So instead he just let the conversation change before you all had to go to your class.

A class that was the same each day for a month straight; boring as you had to remember your maps and important positions for the expedition.

All until you only had the choice but try to recall it by pure memory as the day of the expedition finally rolled around.

“The 57th expedition outside the wall begins now!” Erwin's voice booms from the front of the formation, everyone not letting themselves fall behind, nor trying to focus on the Titans that already threatened your lives, instead letting the support squad do their work while you all rode ahead; luckily enough everyone making it out of the town alive and riding further out the wall.

Something that still felt so surreal to you. Even if where you were, was still considered being inside the walls. Nonetheless, it felt like a rush of both excitement and fear. Mainly fear. Because now you were on your own. Literally parting away from the formation on your own (not really), but as Erwin signalled for the long range scouting, your friends weren’t going to be by your side anymore, you were with your own squad, riding in the right flank with the search squad.

What damn luck. On my first expedition too.

The only reason you got put there is to be their messenger and shoot the needed flares. You weren’t to make contact with any Titans unless extremely necessary. Which was disappointing, yet relieving. And the more you thought of it, of what you were supposed to do, the memory of a lesson came to mind as you rode along your squad. “It will be mainly the search squads in the first column that will have contact with Titans. When they find a Titan, they will fire a red smoke flare. When a soldier sees a flare he relays the message in the same way. Using the flares to confirm the Titans location the commander will fire a green flare and indicate in which direction everyone will proceed. In this way everyone can avoid contact with Titans. However there will be instances due to the lay of the land or obstructions when a Titan will be found too late and is already inside the formation....”

“Y/N, shoot a right flare for that short ugly Titan approaching the right corner.” Your squad leader orders, causing you to look in the direction of the small Titan approaching, lifting your flare and shooting out a red flare whilst you cover your ear from the loud boom. Since it was small, the squad chose to leave it be and instead move away as the formation moved slightly.

“...Our past measures have worked only on the relatively easy-to-predict “ordinary” types. The variants, with their unpredictable behavior, are the only ones that demand engagement!”

“I hear you’ve already killed two Titans as a cadet?! That’s impressive!” Your squad leader exclaims her comment at you.

You nod stiffly and briefly glance at her before you refocus on the incoming land. “Yes, I have, but it wasn’t an easy task, nor was it alone!” Again you glance her way and notice this time her brown eyes were searching the area. Yet she still found a way to multitask.

“Two is still two.” She assures you, her eyes following yours as you watched a flock of birds rapidly fly from their tree and caw sharply as they flew past you. It wasn’t a sight to gawk over, or really think much of, but still your hands tightened around your horse's reins and your eyes narrowed ahead. You continued to ride in a careful silence, feeling the hairs on the back of your neck stand and chills run down your spine. Again you didn’t think much of that either.

But it was in that moment, the seconds after, where two Titans began to come after you, breaking apart from one another and aiming for both sides of your squad, their arms out ready to swing at you beneath them. However you all were smarter, you sped up and rode to the left side, pulling out your flare gun with your trembling hand and taking a red flare to shoot it into the sky—“good!” Your squad leader praised you, leading the way and pushing the horses to sprint away from the Titans faster.

Yet as you left those behind and moved with the formation, two more Titans came running, creating a dust cloud that covered the horde following after them.

“What the hell?” One of your squad members shouts as his eyes fixate on the horde all coming your way, picking up their pace as their eyes spotted their temptation, as if the sight of your approaching figures had set something off within them. “We can’t take them all! We’ll be caught up and only end up losing our own!”

Your eyes widen and your mind races with the thought that this is the most Titans you’ve seen clustered together. It almost looked like they were purposely baited together. It was off putting and made your heart race inside your chest...even more so as they began to break apart and target different spots of your squad, running faster as they did so. And regardless of their tactics you put a red flare in your gun and intended to shoot it as a couple of your comrades fought them to thin out their horde. But as your finger hovered over the trigger, you felt the ground tremble, and spotted more birds quickly fly away as if in a panic.

When you tried to figure out what felt wrong, suddenly another large horde came running your way, this time getting led by a taller Titan, a blonde one with features of a female, blue eyes and a glare that made goosebumps grow all over your body. Unlike the Titans it led, this one seemed to be on a mission, she ran like a human would and let the horde run past her as she stopped in her spot briefly. Her eyes appearing to watch over the chaos she delivered, and her expression painted as if she were thinking.

She let the horde infest and overwhelm your squad. While she left you all stunned and speechless, frozen as you had never seen an abnormal like her. Or they hadn’t. She reminded you of Eren's Titan. From what you could take note, she acted like him; in the manner they were both intelligent and in control—“This-this one is an abnormal,” your squad leader stammered as she tried to lead what was left of her squad from being caught by swinging hands. “Shoot out the black flare, y/n! We can’t let this one into the formation!”

You nod slowly, trying to guide your horse from the approaching threats, whilst you also struggled to pull out the black flare, feeling the canister almost slip from your fingers before you gripped onto it and then struggled to push it in the gun. From the corner of your eye seeing a red flare fly into the sky. Knowing that the signal was going to move the formation, even if you all had to lag behind to thin out the horde that was more trouble than any of you suspected. You still had to deal with the abnormal Female Titan that continued to prove your theory right.

Your squad leader began to go after her and the Female Titan reacted within seconds, snapping her eyes to your leader and surprising you even more as she reacted by bolting towards her. At the last second though, the Female Titan turned sharply on her heels and headed for the formation, only causing the reaction on your face to deepen as your eyes peeled back further, and your eyebrows pinched together. Regardless of your reaction albeit, this time you were aware, you broke from your stupor as your squad leader looked over her shoulder to shout out the same instruction as before.

This time you raised your hand and shot the black flare, hastily shoving the flare gun back in your pocket as you kept your attention on your squad leader approaching the Female Titan; hearing the cries in the chaos that was brewing from the scene you were leaving, hearing Titans jaws snapping, and bones cracking as you tried your best to follow the instructions given to you. It was a crude thing to do, evil; it made your stomach churn and your heart drop, but you had to keep riding along. They kept reminding that to you. They told you to run to inform the Commander of what rose in battle.

But as you begin to split away, your eyes slide to your squad leader shooting her grapples at the Female Titans body, and a sharp gasp leaves your lips the moment she flies in to swing at the Titans nape, and she swiftly swings her hand back to capture your leader in her grasp. She continues to peek over her shoulder, almost as if she was taunting those couple of soldiers after her before she gave an effortless squeeze that instantly killed your squad leader. Leaving behind only a gruesome mess that she dropped before she looked away and bolted away. Leaving you stunned and petrified on your horse.

At the back of your head you could feel yourself registering the fact that more comrades tried to chase after her, but you couldn’t act on any plan. Your mind came up blank as the brutal scene continued to play out ahead of you. All you could do was watch as the Female Titan evilly played with your comrades; swatting them away and stomping one into unrecognizable pieces and a thick pool of blood.

When you could snap from your speechless state was when a blood-curdling scream beside you rang in your ears, snapping your attention to the side to see a Titan bite down on a comrade and another swing at you, barely letting you swerve away.

“Shit,” you hiss sharply, accidentally stumbling back to where the chaos had brewed and being directly behind the Female Titan’s path. You tried to guide your horse back to your previous path, but as your Horse tries to ride back, from the thick of some trees a Titan jumped out ahead of you. Blossom jolted and skidded to a hard stop, crying out as she stood on her twos and fumbled back before she fell back down on all fours. You tried to calm her down as well yourself, “it’s okay, Blossom, it’s okay girl, I won’t let it grab you. I’m here.”

Albeit the moment you tried to run away, another Titan wasted no time to lunge at you from behind. It’s jaw missing your horse and you by an inch, and instead crashing into the Titan in front of you—Fuck yeah—a smirk tugs on your lips as you watch the smoke rise from their clashed bodies over your shoulder. But the moment was brief, because when you turn away and look ahead, the body of a dead comrade comes hurdling your way. You yanked at the reins to make your horse move away, but the body had been thrown too fast and crashed into your horse, making her cry out in pain as she fell forward and threw you off her back to harshly roll on the ground.

When you come to a hard stop, you feel your body crash onto something hot and wet, you pay no mind to it, just think it’s some Titan remains you saw a now dead Comrade kill. Instead your eyes flutter open, welcoming in the brightness, but instantly feeling them sting and noticing your vision was slightly blurry after the impact—concussion maybe? Nevertheless, regardless of your symptoms, you continue to try to push yourself to your hands and knees, feeling your palms slip on something thick and wet. You blink a few times to clear your vision, wasting no time on looking at the sky above and instead dropping your gaze to identify what was under your hands. Albeit instantly freezing as you recognize the thick crimson pool of blood and the gruesome body parts of a dead body under you.

It took a moment for your head to react as you kept your eyes glued to what was underneath, but once you blinked again, you quickly reeled back onto the clean grass. Feeling yourself pant and cry before your breakfast ran up your throat and escaped from your mouth. You gagged more violently, but your stomach just jerked as nothing came out but air, leaving you to finally wipe tears away and suck in air.

When you remembered to breathe out, whilst thoughts in your mind raced at a speed that you couldn’t keep up with. You could feel your body pushing itself to its feet and you could see your bloodied clothes as your eyes roamed down your body, but that was it. Every other feeling was absent, time only seemed to slow down around you. You knew you were looking for your horse, but she was nowhere to be seen. Instead you saw Titans in her place, coming at you from all sides, surrounding you and causing reality to slap you in the face and return everything back to its normal pace.

“Fuck,” you breathe out rapidly, “fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” You quickly move your hands to pull your blades out, eyeing all four Titans that were surrounding you, trying to see if there was a horse, or anyone who could help you at least create a gap to escape. But as you switched from side to side, all you saw was red painted on the ground. No living souls left to help. Of course you could try to create a gap of your own, there were enough bodies for you to hook your grapples onto, but it would all be useless without a horse to use to leave. You were completely and utterly rendered isolated, with only two blades to think of your salvation. To keep your hopes up.

But that hope was burned away the moment the Titans shadows casted over your body, and the sounds of their running mouths echoed in your ears and pulled you back to that disoriented state you fell under after you saw what you had crashed onto. You could see the Titans hands stretch out to try and grab you off the floor, you noticed their jaws open to show off their sets of teeth and slippery tongues in slow motion as time seemed to slow down around you; as the knowledge of your life coming to a brutal end invaded every single thought, numbing every single muscle in your body and drying your mouth and eyes so no tears rolled down your cheeks.

And perhaps the no tears part was half of your mind accepting death. It was on your first expedition, but who were you to fight fate? At least now you could reunite with Marco, Furlan and Isabel. That beautiful thought made you smile to yourself, made death something easier to accept. After all you had lived longer than you anticipated...Levi would miss you...hopefully. That was one thing that rattled your soul, but...hey, you would be with the family you had both lost, he could rejoice in that fact.

When he didn’t see me return and join what was left of the Scouts, would he wait for my hopeful return? Would he be angry when he figured out I was one of the fatalities? That I had broken my promise to stay alive? Your mind fell silent and you blinked away from the Titans to look at the blue sky and passing clouds. I’m sorry.

You draw in a deep breath and ignore the stench of death that filled the air and instead you focus on the slight smell of grass and sweet fresh air. Death wasn’t something you wanted, not like this...you always wanted it to be after a long fruitful life, outside between the trees and under the sky. But this, well this had to do, right? At least you weren’t in the dark, or underground. At least you were under the sky….Hmm, it is a beautiful day—you continue to close your eyes and let out a slow shaky breath. Expecting to picture Isabel's red hair and bright eyes, Furlans smug but yet sweet look, and or Marcos' goofy grin. But someone else completely comes to mind. Levi. A memory of him plays vividly in your head. A specific memory. Almost as if it was purposely chosen to show you.

“You have to fight, you can’t die,” you heard him whisper to your fragile and sick body, feeling as if his voice was hundreds of miles away, but still clear. “Not like this.You still have a lot to live for…” his eyes looked to the clear sky out the window and he sighed before returning his eyes back to you. “...and you still have a lot to discover,” he continued as he grabbed your hand from the bed. “I know that I may not be like Furlan or Isabel, but I promise I'll try, I won’t leave you. I’m still going to look after you, I’ll listen to your stories, I always do, I’ll read through all your findings, I’ll try to do as much as I can do with you. Just fight for me, y/n, please. I want you to live a long life, to experience everything life has to offer you with no regrets. Just survive. You can’t die. Don’t die. Fight and survive. Fight and survive....”

As Levi’s words echoed all over your head and the memory faded, something else sparked within you, electrifying your mind like if a bolt of lightning had suddenly struck your brain. It almost felt like an adrenaline rush had flooded your entire body, but it felt much, much stronger. You could feel much stronger and much more aware. Your eyes suddenly flew open and you drew in a sharp breath that filled your lungs with a relief that you felt after you resurfaced from the water. Every color that surrounded you was much more vivid, everything your eyes saw was much sharper; to the shortest distance and to the farthest. Something unfolded within you.

Suddenly every thought of death turned to the will to fight. Suddenly blood rushed through your numbed limbs, causing you to dig your heels into the dirt and fortify your grip around your handles. Time was slow, but it was different, you could feel your eyes snap to every location, spot every single movement; from the flapping leaves, to the flowing grass blades, the floating clouds and approaching Titan hands. Your mind instantly came up with an instant plan to escape your current dilemma. And before you knew it, you were shooting your grapple hooks and moving like lightning, faster than you ever have in your years of using ODM gear

One moment you were on the ground, ready to die, the next you were swinging under a Titans arm, swirling around the moment you unhooked your grapples to then shoot them again, and spin directly at the Titans nape. You jumped off their falling body to continue the same process with the others, feeling an instinct guide you, a sense knowing exactly what to do pump through your blood. It was like a rush. Something new and much more than an adrenaline rush. You felt yourself fly around like the wind.

It felt odd moving so fast, you could hardly understand it, hardly control your own speed, but you were grateful for it as it helped you take down the Titans that had once threatened your life. Now, you just watched their bodies slowly evaporate away and leave behind only thick white smoke before you let yourself fall back to the ground in the middle of where their bodies lay to slowly take in what you had done.

It was unbelievable, but there was no one else around for you to make excuses that it wasn’t you—yet you still couldn’t believe it. You looked down at your hands as if that was going to give you reassurance to what had happened, you looked at the sky and found reassurance in the fact that you were alive. You rejoiced in that fact for a brief moment before you were reminded why your life was put at such high risk, why your whole squad was now dead.

She.

It.

The Female Titan was at fault. It was all her fault. She played with your comrades as if they were toys, she brought hordes of Titans that killed your comrades, she was the reason you almost died. Now, you needed to kill her.

You stepped away from the Titans thick smoke their decaying bodies produced and searched for your horse, you called for her, but nothing, luckily another horse heard your call. That was better than nothing. “Good horse,” you praise it as you climb onto it and gently pat their side, giving the chaotic and bloodied scene one last look before you tell them to go.

Needless to say you were riding fast and in rage, focusing on that single mission, and luckily not running into more Titans on your way after the Female Titan. You may not know exactly where she was headed, but you had a rough idea; she seemed to be dead set on chasing the formation, she appeared to be after something, or someone, she—suddenly you lose your previous train of thought and a new thought sparks in your mind. One that causes you to slap your hand on your mouth and run your hand down your face.

Of course. Of fucking course. It can’t be just a coincidence that suddenly another intelligent Titan like Erens appeared out of thin air, after not showing any sign of herself before. And of course she appeared after Eren was announced to be a Titan shifter. She’s most likely after him!

You smile proudly to yourself and release a held in breath—sometimes I truly do surprise myself. Wow.

With a bit more resolve, you focus back on your path ahead, dropping your smile instantaneously and fueling with pulsing rage as you caught sight of the Female Titan.

She was on her knee, and her hand was covering her nape, while her eyes appeared to be focused on something. It was hard to notice what with your rage and your own goal in mind, but the moment you pushed yourself on top of your horse and shot your grapples at the tree beside her to hop off your horse, and press on the gas to fly directly at her, you heard and saw who it was that was keeping her busy. “Y/N?!” Jean shouted.

Your eyes briefly glanced at him beside another tree, before they shifted to Armin at her other side a few feet away, and lastly at Reiner below you riding on his horse. His own eyes watching you fly overhead.

Your lips tugged into a smirk and you continued on, releasing your hooks and letting yourself fall towards the ground as The Female Titan swung her hand at you, missing your body and trying to catch a glimpse of you as you flashed forward and hooked your grapples onto the ground a few feet away. You used the stable ground to flip in the sky and be facing her, using your fingers to press on your gas to hastily fly towards her in a blinding rage that made your figure appear like a gust of wind, or a flash of light as you faked going for her nape and instead stabbed your blades on her shoulder and circled your blades around them to weaken her limb. You flew past her and let your body fall forward before you hooked your grabbles on the tree beside Jean, letting your heels scrape the dirt before you pressed on the gas to throw yourself to the sky and flip around in the air and repeat the process with her other shoulder.

In the heat of the moment you didn’t even focus on the three boys that you were now with, your anger raged and blinded you, your newfound strength and speed kept you busy as you tried to control it properly. The Female Titan kept your mind locked on killing her, and you were close; after weakening both arms, watching as they flopped down, you aligned yourself at a perfect spot where you could swing your blades over her nape. Only as you spun forward, and lifted your blades to slash her nape; the moment you let out a frustrated scream, and felt your blades make contact with her flesh, instead of cutting her nape and killing her, your blades suddenly broke as the tips reached the middle of her nape.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the sight and your lips parted in a stunned surprise. “What the hell?!” You look back at her nape before blinking to look back at your broken blades, “what just happened?” Once again you look back at the Female Titan and instead of landing on the ground, your gaze narrows on her and you swiftly flip around to again fly towards her. “No matter,” you sneer whilst you hook your grapples onto the ground beside her. “I’ll finish you.” Instead of going to her nape, first you try to take out her eyes. It was a smart plan, but you didn’t catch the fact that she had healed an arm, you didn’t see her lifting her hand to attempt to grab you from the air. It could’ve been a foolish outcome, but you were saved.

Suddenly, the moment you unhook your grapples and try to press on the gas, you feel another body collide onto yours. They push you out of the way and have you stabbing your blades onto the ground so you could slide back and come to a stop without hitting the ground roughly. Again. And the moment you did stop, you snapped your eyes to where you had been shoved away from, and notice that it had been Reiner who had saved you from being crushed.

His eyes find yours for a brief second to share a short lingering before he tries to kill the Female Titan himself. Only just like she failed to do with you, she successfully grabbed Reiner in her grip. Causing you to drop your blades so you could jump to your feet and cry out his name as you saw her thumb crush his body in her fist. “No! Reiner!”

No. No.

You stepped forward mindlessly and clenched your fist around your handles. You waited, or really you were so stunned that you didn’t know how to truly react. All you felt was your heart sink to your stomach and your breath trap in your lungs.

The moment you could react and were going to try and get revenge for Reiner. Said man suddenly and impressively spun out of the Female Titans fist—“yes,” you grin slowly, watching in awe as he safely landed on the ground.

Nevertheless you couldn’t express such emotion because Jean suddenly grabbed your hand and began pulling you forward with the rest of the group. Leaving behind the Female Titan.

“I think we bought enough time!” Reiner exclaimed to all of you, causing you to look at the Female Titan over your shoulder after you let go of Jean's hand. “Hurry and let’s put some distance from this one! It won’t come after us unless it’s a cannibal!”

Just like Reiner had mentioned, the Female Titan went the other way, letting all of you run away. “Look at that!” You point out, causing Reiner to follow your line of vision and add more comments after you.

“The giant bimbo’s scared and going home.”

Only that didn't feel right. But you didn’t have a chance to point that out as Reiner pointed out the skills you demonstrated moments ago. “Hey, y/n what was that?! Where the hell have you been hiding that skill?! You were impressive!”

“That’s right, I noticed that too, you’ve never shown skill like that before.” Armin interjected from under Reiner's arm.

“You were moving like Mikasa and Captain Levi. What was that?” Jean chimed in too.

Your eyes turned to the boys and their curious stares, before you looked back at the horizon ahead and shrugged cluessely. “I...don’t know.”

Tagged- @expectoscamander , @greenygreenland @that-soft-lesbian-friend , @dai-tsukki-desu @usernamehere91 , @avocadopoosae

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sttngfashion · 3 years

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5.26 and 6.1 - Time’s Arrow

Oh my god. Y’all. It’s a new Fashion It So post. In the year of our Picard 2020. Yes.

For literal years, Charlie and I have been like UGH WE NEED TO DO TIME’S ARROW PARTS 1 AND 2 BUT IT’S JUST SUCH A MONSTER.

Well, I’m doing a complete rewatch of the series with my partner and we just got to these two, so IT IS TIME.

We open in a cave in San Francisco, where Data and Picard are checking something out:

Rent for the cave is $6,000 per month

Showing them around is this guy in a Science Outfit:

He’s ready to go night biking

We’ve seen this look before in both Silicon Avatar and Devil’s Due, and it’s functional, yet cute. Basically a windbreaker in jumpsuit form.

They find a couple of items in the cave, including a pocket watch from 1889 and also:

I left my head in San Francisco

IT’S DATA’S HEAD!!! And it’s been there for FIVE HUNDRED YEARS. What could have caused this? And why is Data’s head so absolutely terrifying?

Is that fondant

This head is, in a word, haunting. The 2020 of heads.

Data and Geordi chat in Ten-Forward about what the presence of Data’s head in the cave means. Data says it means he’s mortal; that someday he will die, and that’s comforting. Spoiler alert: that’s not what it means. But it’s a nice conversation.

Also, Guinan is here!!!

Merlot My God!!

Or maybe: Burgundy-lightful!! Or perhaps: De-Crimson-alize Sex Work!! Okay that last one was a stretch but I really think I missed my calling as a nail polish shade namer.

Anyway, she’s here in her classic look of a pizza-sized hat and a flowing gown/coat/top/robe. The collar here is a little too close to a mock turtleneck for my liking and honestly - this is a little staid for our friend Guinan. I want a TEXTURE or a SWEEP or some WIDE RIBBING or some PLEATS. Don’t worry, though...she will get plenty more later.

Then there’s some plot which frankly we DO NOT HAVE TIME to get into but let’s just say: the away team goes to a planet, there’s a temporal disturbance, and Data ends up here:

Huge mood

Where are we? Or should I say WHEN are we??

Well that old-timey font is a good clue...also the horse

Are we in the Old West land of an off-brand Disneyworld? Are we going to ride something called Large Lightning Mesa Train Tracks? What colorful characters will we meet here?

Winner of 1893’s Mustache Medal

This type of ‘stache is called a Fu Manchu, after the character Dr. Fu Manchu. It’s not...a great look? But it is memorable, which is sometimes enough. He’s also wearing a simple black cap, probably made of silk. He’s keeping it cazh.

So where are we?

SAN FRANCISCO, OPEN YOUR GOLDEN GATE / YOU’LL LET NOBODY WAIT / OUTSIDE YOUR DOOR

Yes, it’s San Francisco. And it’s *eyes popping out of head like a cartoon wolf seeing a busty babe* 1893!!!! That temporal disturbance was...disturbing.

So who else do we have hanging out?

Please check out our Vaudeville act, Knit Cap ‘n’ Bowly

These dudes understand those famous Bay Area MICROCLIMATES, amirite? We’ve got a Henley. We’ve got a buttondown. We’ve got a vest. We’ve got a coat. No matter which way the thermometer decides to go, THEY ARE READY. Also loving the pop of forest green on Knit Cap’s knit cap.

We also have a 49er:

No, it’s not Steve Young. I googled “famous 49ers” to complete this joke so if there is a more famous 49er please let me know

It’s a literal 49er. Since it’s 1893, this guy’s been hanging around in town for a while, and he’s also familiar with the layering techniques one must master if one is to conquer the Bay Area’s climate. He also has a kicky Colonel Sanders-type tie. He asks Data for money and gives him a few panhandling tips. He’s chill. We like him. But don’t get too attached if you know what I mean!!!!

Data decides he needs somewhere to stay, so he finds a hotel:

Brian.

Why is this so funny to me. Brian. Why would you name your hotel Brian. Brian!!!! I know it’s a last name but like...Brian. HOTEL BRIAN.

This bellhop’s name is not Brian:

Where’s your hat, bro

He’s giving us a classic bellhop look, complete with too many buttons. He gives Data the very important information that there’s a poker game happening in the back of the hotel, which means: Data is about to be RICH rich.

The poker game includes a few good looks:

Louie Anderson IS Wolverine IN a Lands’ End barn coat

Two plaids? Sir...I salute you

Colonel Sanders Goes to Carnaval

Data, of course, wipes the floor with them so hard that he wins their clothes:

Didn’t get that barn coat tho

Yes, that’s the actual vest and the actual hat of those guys from the previous scene. Oh, I love it. I love Data in a vest over his uniform and I love Data with a feather in his cap. Let’s call it macaroni.

Meanwhile, out on the street, the plot is happening:

Beige: inescapable

This is our first taste of the decadent 1890’s sleeves that appear in this episode, and these aren’t even the best sleeves!! These are an amuse-bouche of sleeves. An armuse-bouche, if you will.

Anyway, these two are aliens disguised as humans who are here to steal the 49er’s life energy.

Pew pew pew

I told you not to get attached!!!

Back on the Enterprise, Guinan is doing mixology:

She would never call it something as stupid as mixology though

She tells Picard that he needs to go check out the temporal disturbance, too, even though captains don’t normally go on away missions, and then she gives him this look:

It’s that serious

When Guinan looks at you like this, you do what she says.

Now this outfit is much better than the earlier one. We have some pleated sleeves, which I didn’t even think was a thing you could DO. We have some sort of functional(?) strap(??) across the front. We even have matching fingerless gloves which always make a look A LOOK. And if Picard wasn’t sure whether he needed to go on this away mission, she then gives him THIS look:

Okay now it’s REALLY serious

Back in 1893, Data is making something:

It’s actually just a really complicated and large music box that plays “I Left My Head in San Francisco”

He’s gotten his hands on some more period-appropriate clothing, including a bow tie and a vest. Since he’s not wearing arm garters and his sleeves appear to be the correct length for his arms, we can conclude that the shirt was custom-made, not ready-made, because Data is now a baller due to his poker earnings.

Then, Data sees this in the paper:

I know her!! From work!!!!

Yes, it’s Guinan. In 1893. In a hat!!!!

We cut to the literary reception, which is honestly not as well-attended as I thought it would be, considering it got a GIANT photo of Guinan on page THREE of the paper, but okay. And who should we spy there but:

You’ll love my secret blend of 11 herbs and spices

No, it’s not Colonel Sanders. (Sorry, I really have Colonel Sanders on the brain because of that Lifetime movie.) It’s Samuel Clements, AKA Mark Twain. I had an English teacher in high school who explained the origin of his pseudonym (it indicates a mark of two fathoms, aka twelve feet, on a steamboat) and for some reason she shouted MAAAARK TWAAAAAIN when she told us that story so now her delivery of that line is in my head until I die I guess.

Anyway, it’s Mark Twain.

He’s wearing his iconic white linen suit with a black bow tie, and he’s also wearing a lot of prosthetics, because the actor playing him (Jerry Hardin, AKA Deep Throat from The X-Files AKA Melora Hardin AKA Jan Levinson-Gould’s dad) (was that too many AKAs) (you get it, right?) didn’t look enough like Mark Twain, I guess? In conclusion: what if eyebrow wigs were a thing?

Twain is having a chit chat with “Madame Guinan,” who is wearing what can only be called a sumptuous gown:

It’s 11:30 and the gown is sumptin’ sumptin’

There are so many ELEMENTS to this look! First of all: the color. Royal purple. Fit for a queen. Appropriate.

Then: those sleeves! These sleeves are known as “leg of mutton sleeves” because they KIND OF look like a leg of mutton. Have you ever seen a leg of mutton? I haven’t. I’ve only seen these sleeves. Plus they have a stripe?? No, I don’t know why, but I LOVE IT.

The cuffs and the cravat bring this from “dress” to “lewk.” Top it all off with this hat and you have a true 1893 mood.

What bird is that feather even from

We get a few good extra looks in this scene as well:

Pink Lady is NOT wearing a corset

Look, sometimes you don’t have enough period-appropriate undergarments for all the background people and that’s fine. But I WILL notice.

Is that Loretta Lynn

I am loving all of this! That purple dress is fantastic, those stripes? I die. Military man has some fun flair on his shoulder, and there is a dude in a beautiful turban back there. Plus, another Black lady in addition to Guinan and That One Ensign Who Is On The Bridge Sometimes.

Data rolls in to the literary event in a different suit with a CRAVAT:

Craving a cravat

Data is like “we serve together on the same starship in the 24th century” and Guinan is like “huh” but then she’s like “okay” which...I’m not sure if I would believe that? But let’s just say it’s fine.

Over in the 24th century, the literal entire bridge crew is checking out the temporal disturbance and I DON’T LIKE THIS AT ALL:

Blue Man Group...on ACID

These beings are like ghosts but also like Dr. Manhattan but also like pure energy.

Then everyone goes through the temporal disturbance AND THE SEASON ENDS.

Fortunately for you, this post will continue...right now.

Okay, so we’re back in San Francisco in 1893. You can tell by the horses:

Also the fruit carts

Samuel Clemens is strolling around with a reporter, telling him that he has a great story for him that involves time travelers and, like, protecting the nation.

Here’s the thing about this episode’s version of Mark Twain: he’s kind of a dick. Was the real Mark Twain kind of a dick? I just feel like Mark Twain should be JAZZED about meeting time travelers and not acting like a fuckin’ time cop* and trying to put the Enterprise crew on blast.

Anyway I love his double-breasted vest.

See my vest

The reporter’s hat is technically period-accurate, but that style is SO associated with the 1930s-1950s that I would have gone with something else. He looks cute though.

Meanwhile, Data is wearing a three-piece suit:

My positronic olfactory synapses are interpreting something as...a fart

I hate brown, but this is fine.

Additionally, the beige baddies from before are back and this time, they’ve got a SNAKE CANE:

Love the snake cane, hate how they suck the life out of people

But we are not here for them, we are here to see our faves in period clothing. Our first look is at Riker, who is dressed as an actual cop, not a time cop like Mark Twain:

The past just had...so many buttons

I guess if you’re a time-traveling white man there are worse disguises than a cop. But WHERE DID HE GET THIS UNIFORM? I choose to believe that he found a cop with a similar large handsome body to his own and beat the shit out of him and stole his clothes. Now we can all enjoy imagining a cop being beat up.

The badge that Riker is wearing is a great historical detail; the SFPD started wearing them in 1886 and are reportedly the first law enforcement agency to have worn the seven-pointed star, which is now a common shape among sheriff’s departments across the United States.

But let’s move on to a better look: Dr. Beverly Crusher:

Curlz MT

Okay, now I have more questions. Beverly obviously wouldn’t beat someone up for their clothes, so where did SHE get HER outfit? And who did her hair? Did she do her OWN hair? Where did she get a curling iron? Does she know how to use a curling iron? Was it one of those ones that’s actually made of iron that you have to heat up in a fireplace?

We will get answers to zero (0) of these questions.

We actually get a much better look at her dress later, so let’s focus on that cloak!!! I love it and I also love her hat. Okay, I guess I had less to say about those than I thought.

Bev and Will, along with the rest of the officers, have somehow procured a room/apartment in some lady’s lodging house. It’s cute!

They gave it 5 stars on AirBnB

This also raises questions. How did they get this room? How many bedrooms does it have? Are they sharing one large bed? If so, who has to sleep crossways at the foot of the bed and why is it Geordi? We will get zero answers to these questions as well, so let’s move on to arguably the hottest costume in this two-parter:

I’ll be in Holodeck 4

Whewwwwwww. He’s giving us a rolled sleeve. He’s giving us a casual tweed vest. The pants? They’re perfect. And he KNOWS how that slouch is working. It’s working VERY well. But the Irish landlady? She’s having NONE OF IT.

Absolutely NO nonsense

She needs the rent, but Picard charms her and she leaves. So I guess that’s how they got the room. Her look is knitwear-forward:

Eileen Fisher does sound like an Irish name

She’s got a shawl AND a cardigan! The cozy factor is OFF THE CHARTS. She also has a brooch, because a touch of fancy is always welcome. I will say that her hair is a little more fashion-forward than I’d expect for a woman of her age and station. This is straight up 1890s hair, and she would probably still be rocking an 1860s look, which isn’t as sweepy and would likely involve more braids. Still, she looks lovely.

Geordi is also here looking dapper:

Make the collar as high as you can. I want to be sliced open by my own collar

You CAN go wrong with a three-piece suit, but it’s difficult to. He can’t wear his visor, so he has some kicky shades which we’ll get a better look at in a sec.

Back at the Hotel Brian (lol), the bellboy (who we learn in this scene is Jack London, inspired to be a writer by Mark Twain [citation needed]) lets Mark Twain into Data’s room and allows him to look around unsupervised. This is very bad hotel management.

Great Scott

Then Data and Guinan show back up, and Mark Twain hides in an armoire.

One short day in the emerald brocade

I think one reason I love Guinan’s looks so much, both in the 24th and the 19th century, is that our color palette is very similar. We’re both winters. Bold jewel tones are the vibe. This one is in a beautiful deep green fabric with what looks like a velvet flocking pattern on it. The collar is also velvet, and I love that sleeve with a flounce on top like there wasn’t already enough fucking fabric on the sleeve so they just added a random piece to be like “yes, bitch. I’m a sleeve.”

Naturally, the hat is also jaunty af:

San Francisco’s hottest milliner is: Madame Guinan

This hat has everything: feathers, netting, a brim, an angle that makes you think it’s going to fall off but it doesn’t. We stan.

Meanwhile, Picard is setting up a sensor in a hospital while wearing a hat:

I’m bowled over

We haven’t even asked where Picard got these clothes, but I would like to point out that he’s dressed as a lower-class guy, while Riker is a cop, and Geordi looks like a gentleman. Was there even a discussion they all had about how they would disguise themselves? Was Picard like “I just really want to wear a beat-up bowler hat” and since he’s the captain, they extrapolated from there? This episode is NOT CONCERNED about any of this. They all have clothes, end of story.

Bev even has TWO outfits!!

Hello nurse!!!!

I love this look. She still has her unlikely hairstyle happening, which means her nurse’s cap is sitting atop her voluminous hairstyle. (Not very practical, but realistic!) She’s sporting a simple striped dress and a button-on apron. (Look closely and you can see the two buttons holding the apron to the dress.) The fabric underneath might be cotton seersucker, but it’s likely a lightweight cotton or linen twill. You can see how closely her look matches these nurses from a similar time period:

Hello nurses!!!!

Deanna is also in this scene and this episode, but you wouldn’t know it from what she’s given to do. HUGE SHOCKER: TROI NOT GIVEN ENOUGH TO DO IN AN EPISODE. 🙃

She still looks beautiful:

Why aren’t capelets more popular

We never get a really GREAT look at her whole outfit, but I can tell you that it has a capelet, it’s in the red family, and the hat has a lot of business going on. For those reasons: approved. It has a flounce in the back too:

More fabric = more wealth

Sometimes I think about just how much fabric it took to make these old-timey dresses and I’m like...how did anyone get anything done?? It takes me like 4 weeks to finish a pair of leggings and those have like 5 seams and I own a serger. These historical bitches were sewing whole ass dresses in no time at all.

Okay, so Bev is in this hospital and here come some more energy-stealing aliens, disguised as healthcare professionals this time:

I cannot take a medical professional wearing a LIGHT BROWN TOP HAT seriously, sorry

Bev AND this energy-stealing alien have BOTH managed to get their hands on the SAME nurse’s uniform?? I guess in the case of the alien, she is a shape-shifter, so she got her clothes from...that. And her hair.

I hate this light brown top hat. If you’re going to wear a top hat, don’t DISRESPECT IT by making it BROWN, but if you’re going to make it brown, make it a good brown, like chocolate. Stupid energy-stealing aliens.

There’s a skirmish, the energy-stealing aliens disappear, and the real cops show up:

MOUSTACHE

Of course, the cops showing up is bad, because when has a cop showing up ever made a bad situation better? Never. Defund the police, but don’t defund handlebar mustaches. Those can stay.

Fortunately, Data has gotten a ping on that machine he was building before and shows up on a motherfucking HORSE:

Brent just wanted to show off

He’s back in his brown striped suit and red tie. Okay.

Everyone returns to the boarding house to suss out the situation, and we get a look at what Riker is rocking underneath his cop jacket:

Suspend me daddy

You can see very clearly here how the collar is not actually attached to the shirt. This was a thing people in the olden days did so they could wear their shirt for multiple days in a row and just switch out the collar and cuffs so they looked clean. As someone who is wearing the same sweatshirt for the third day in a row, I support this method. (If you’re interested on more info about collars, here is a very enjoyable article about them.)

We are also blessed with a better look at Deanna’s sleeves and bodice:

Black lace cuffs? Decadent!!!

You can also see Geordi’s shades, which suit him really nicely. One thing I’ve been enjoying on this rewatch is just how well LeVar Burton can act without having his eyes visible. He’s great. Let’s just all think about how great LeVar Burton is for a second

And also Bev’s dress:

I legitimately want this dress

I don’t think those buttons are functional. Can you imagine how annoying THAT would be? But I am absolutely in love with this dress. Two paisleys, Beverly???? A goddess. I’m also dying for that brooch with the chain. A+ look all around, great work.

Finally, FINALLY, Guinan meets the rest of the crew:

When you meet someone you won’t actually know for 500 years

She is wearing a hat that looks like a toilet paper cozy. Did your grandma have one of these? They’re so stupid and I love them so much.

Picard and Guinan meet for what is the first time for her, but not the first time for him, and honestly it is...sensual?????

If I got a m’lady from P. Stew I wouldn’t even mind

Patrick and Whoopi truly do some nice work in this ep. But we are here to yell about clothes, so: LOOK AT THIS DRESS ON AN EXTRA:

Gimme dat dress

I just want that dress to wear around my house. I legitimately bought an 18th century costume dress to do just that, so don’t think I won’t literally do this.

OKAY, WE ARE ALMOST TO THE END.

The crew, plus Guinan, go back to the cave where this all started:

Cave Club, the only club that meets in a cave

We get a nice look at the bodice of Guinan’s dress here and guess what: MORE BUTTONS. Buttons on the lapels, and also buttons on the front panel with the pointy top. I wonder if she has multiple front panels for that dress in different colors, like a Swatch watch.

Unbeknownst to them, Mark Twain followed them!! Then there’s a scuffle with the energy-stealing aliens during which a few things happen:

Data’s head flies off

Mark Twain gets sucked into the temporal disturbance

Guinan gets hurt

Picard stays behind to make sure Guinan is okay

So we end up with Mark Twain on the Enterprise, where he sees Worf, and he’s like:

Buh-WHAT

Worf is also confused:

This is...extremely perplexing

We have a few more looks back on the Enterprise, including Regular Guinan:

ShoulderSpreads™: The Bed Spread for Your Shoulders

I love love LOVE this outfit. The color is perfect, the shoulderspreads are perfect, the front draping is perfect. It looks like a velvet housedress from the 1960s except FANCY which is kind of my ideal aesthetic. And it’s red (my fave).

We get a quick glimpse at the barber uniform:

Bitch let me pass, idc if you wrote Huck Finn

This barber does. not. give. a. fuck!!!!

Geordi reattaches Data’s head, the one they already had, which means this whole thing was a ding dang closed loop. The reattachment also kind of diminishes the whole conversation they had earlier about how Data’s head in the cave meant that Data could die someday, because...he didn’t. He still might, but his head is back and he’s fine now.

Meanwhile, Picard is still back in 1893 and they have to go get him, but only one person can come back through the temporal disturbance, so Mark Twain is like “duh I’ll go get him.”

And finally Guinan and Picard can talk about how their friendship spans 500 years!!!!

Hey girl

Hey

YOU’RE WELCOME

*abolish the police

#SEASON 5 #SEASON 6 #TNG #TNG FASHION #STAR TREK #STAR TREK FASHION

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hsu-liangyu · 3 years

Text

“Orientalia”: White Fascination and Nostalgia for China and the Orient

4/11/2021

Denver, CO

CW: Racism, anti-Asian and anti-Chinese sentiment, violence/sexual assault

Preface:

Today was certainly a day. I’ve been on a cross country trek, which I’ve come to call “The Great Journey East”, where I’m driving from my home in the Seattle area to Portland, Maine to ply my usual trade, working aboard some traditionally rigged sailing vessels that operate from the Maine State Pier. I’ve most recently arrived in Denver, CO, after a tumultuous night of camping in un-ideal circumstances on the shores of Great Salt Lake in Utah. I decided to treat myself to a middling hotel downtown to try to affect an aura of urban tranquility before I head out for Wichita in the morning, and then on to see my mother’s family in Oklahoma. The drive thus far has been marked by astounding natural beauty, kind people, and a long series of audio books that I’ve only just begun to make a dent in. I began this journey listening to “Tribe” by Sebastian Junger, which I found to be extremely interesting and helped some of my own understanding of how society today does not serve the community, and how we may one day return to a society where the people come first, as opposed to the individual. After finishing Mr Junger’s audiobook, I turned my ears to a tome that I have put off reading for a long time: “The Chinese in America: A Narrative History” by Iris Chang.

Listening to this audiobook over the last few days, which begins in Qing dynasty China and ends in the modern day, I can say a great many things. I can say that I deeply feel the experiences that were collected by the author and compiled into this book, not only on an intellectual and emotional level, but on a spiritual level. I can say that, despite years of my own research into my familial experiences and the experiences of contemporary Chinese Americans, my level of knowledge was severely lacking, even though I considered myself to be a relatively robust lay-scholar on the topic. I can say that the experience of we Chinese Americans, foreign and natural born, has changed very little in our time here. While circumstances change from person to person, family to family, and era to era, we are all bound together in trends that have haunted our communities, not unlike the tigers that have stalked southeast Asia for time immemorial, striking out when least expected.

All of that, however, is a surface level understanding. Those realities are the first few layers of a complicated and long history of horrific, violent, brutal, and inhuman oppression in the United States.

I began this audiobook believing that I knew most of what I needed, enough to enlighten the odd person in online discourse, or conversation over dinner. Enough to tell-off the casual bigot that accused me and other Chinese people of overblowing our racial, social, and economic anxieties while making them look a fool. I realized very quickly that while I was not wrong in my knowledge, my staunchly anti-racist rhetoric, or my suspicious attitudes towards the US government and law enforcement, I was missing so much of the story. I was not missing the statistics or the legislative history: I was missing word-to-paper stories of my ancestors -- our ancestors -- and the cold, hard, and hellacious reality that they faced when they got here. These realities may have differed from generation to generation (the Chinese washer-man and washer-woman, miner, and restaurateur of the 19th century was faced with markedly different circumstances from the Chinese who fled WWII, the PRC, or settled in other areas of the world during the diaspora), but they are cold and hard, none-the-less.

I have cried more in the last three days than I think I have in the last three years. My heart hurts for our ancestors, our elders, our parents, our siblings, our uncles, our aunties, and our future children as we exist in a country that has committed nearly every atrocity it could think of to rid us from their stolen land.

This was the state of being I’ve come to Denver with. Finally in the privacy of a hotel room, I showered and talked with my partner. She found a book today, written by the child of white missionaries who fled China just before WWII, that was a compilation of “Oriental” inspired needle-work patterns. She shared the preface of this book with me, which I found to be incredibly alarming, and has prompted me to write on the subject of “Orientalism”, the exotic, and how the experience of white Europeans and Americans in China was vastly different from the Chinese people. Out of respect for the author and their work, which I believe was written as an honest tribute to Chinese culture and its influence on them, I am choosing to omit the author’s name and the title of the book in question. While some may see this as underhanded, I am choosing to do so because I do not wish to wage a war of rhetoric with an author who I have very little personal knowledge of, because I believe it is unethical of me to do so.

However, I will be addressing some problematic concepts that are present in the preface of this book, as they are worth speaking about as we attempt to further society’s collective understanding of differential experiences between people and people groups.

Thank you for reading on, as well as for reading my preface. The following issues are things that I have struggled with for a long time, and I hope that my words bring you additional perspective on Chinese American issues.

“The Orient, the Oriental, and Orientalia: A Curious Lens of Exoticism Riddled with Racism”

Today, I saw a word that I had not seen in a very, very long time.

As most any Asian person will tell you, the words “orient” and “oriental” are generally unwelcome descriptors of Asian people and culture. These two descriptors are applied to clothing, architecture, pottery, art, furniture, cookware -- the list keeps going. I often joke to those who use these words, “what am I, a rug to you?”, which normally drives the point home in a friendly way They are both hangers-on from an era that we’d best leave in the past. An era where the Occident and the Orient were opposites of one another, incompatible, and fundamentally in conflict. The two terms saw relatively common usage in the 19th century, and many Euro-Americans considered “the orient” to be interchangeable with “the far east” while the occident was a catch-all word for Euro-American civilizations ranging from western Europe to the New World. It could be said that the Occident and the Orient began as harmless descriptor words that only communicated a vague notion of differences between cultures, they were rapidly weaponized as anti-Asian, especially anti-Chinese, sentiments began to flare in the western world. Imperial Germany used the two terms to great affect, framing the differences between the Occident and the Orient to be far more than cultural and societal. It was a matter of life and death.

The Occident was the pinnacle of industrialized civilization. It was moral and upright, beholden to the Christian god, supported by the titans of industry, government, and cutting-edge military technology. The Orient was backwards, overrun with dirty Chinese heathens who constantly lied, cheated, and stole from the superior whites. The Chinese were looking to enslave white women, turning them into sex slaves or take them as wives so that they could propagate a wretched half-breed race that would overrun the world and mark the end of all Occidental civilization.

This rhetoric was incredibly powerful, and one only needs to look at early anti-Chinese political cartoons and articles to see these words used in incredibly derogatory ways. The other side of the Orient/Oriental dichotomy was steeped in foreign luxury and exoticism, which served to peak the interest of wealthy whites that bought up all kinds of Asian furniture, clothing, fabrics, cookware, and art from unscrupulous dealers and certifiable importers alike. Affluent white women of the 19th century are well-documented as being deeply invested in luxurious goods imported from “the Orient” and marketed as “Oriental” or “Orientalia” to garner societal notoriety, whereas their fathers, husbands, brothers, and sons would have dressing gowns, cravats, and handkerchiefs created out of fine imported silk. All of these goods were considered exotic and other-worldly, which is not a debased outlook for the time, considering that so few westerners had actually managed to travel in the vicinity of China, let alone disembark in one of the few official trading ports open to European traders. This fascination with all things Chinese, entirely divorced from the reality that many Europeans and Americans viewed the Chinese as grave existential threats to white civilization, is not without irony.

While Chinese peasants and workers died in droves from starvation, disease, localized conflict, or at the hands of white Europeans and Americans acting with impunity in a country that was barred from holding them legally accountable for their actions, cargo hold upon cargo hold of Chinese goods were exported for consumption by westerners. These westerners had military and diplomatic presence in China, especially in the mid to late 19th century, often seizing prime real estate in Chinese port cities for international settlements where it was the westerners, not the Chinese, in charge. These ostentatious settlements, coupled with missions run by Christian organizations from all over the western world, exercised great influence with local Qing dynasty officials, and western nationals all throughout the southern coast of China were free to use and abuse the Chinese around them as they please. These prosperous settlements, a highly visible and permanent show of colonization and foreign aggression, were made so by the labor of Chinese workers and peasants. The same workers who were forced into horrific working conditions in and around the settlements while western nationals were free to treat them as they please with no repercussions, ever for outright murder. Any fascination with the Chinese lifestyle, manner of dress, and other items that could be quickly imported to the west as exotic tokens of the Orient was inherently divorced from the horrific reality of daily life within China, and was nearly always a fascination that arose from social tiers that could afford to be ignorant of those realities while directly benefiting from them.

“Orientalia and the Noble Savage”

The westerners’ fascination with all things Orientalia outlines another phenomenon present in the west’s view of China in the 19th and 20th centuries, an phenomenon that Americans are familiar with as it is applied to Indigenous peoples in North America: the Noble Savage.

The Noble Savage idea and stereotype found quick traction with American colonists as they fought to drive out Indigenous peoples from their ancestral lands all over North America. These Indigenous groups, savage as they were perceived to be, were often regarded as principled and noble in their way of life, whether that was seen in their treatment of the lands, natural resources, their art and craftwork, their societal structure, or in how they treated white settlers when they were taken prisoner. While all of this talk of nobility betrayed the slimmest undercurrents of admiration from white settlers towards Indigenous peoples, the second word of the phrase was integral to its application: Savage. Despite these noble ideas and practices, a savage is a savage is a savage. This two-faced admiration served only one purpose -- to communicate the slightest inkling of fake remorse in widespread acts of genocide against people that white settlers hated and chose not to understand.

For the Chinese and Chinese Americans, the idea of the noble savage is easily translated. While Indigenous peoples in North America had a comparatively low level of technology to Americans, the same could not be said of the Chinese. Despite lacking robust gunpowder arms and other advanced forms of military technology, the technological prowess of the Chinese people was without doubt. Massive cities, sprawling agriculture, advanced irrigation, roads, palaces, and so much more was plainly evident to any westerner who arrived on Chinese shores (the same can be said of Indigenous populations throughout the Americas despite the prevailing myth of "primordial wilderness" perpetuated by white settlers) . Despite the different perspectives that westerns had between the two groups, westerners applied the Noble Savage ideal to the Chinese just as quickly and easily as they did to the Indigenous peoples across the oceans.

While the Chinese were obviously proficient in architecture, engineering, and in art, many westerners were quick to follow up any admiration of their eastern counterparts with staunch, racial criticism, highlighting their savagery in their daily lives such as gambling, long fingernails, or their seemingly archaic dress. Much of the criticism leveled on the basis of savagery had to deal with the assumption that Chinese men would, without hesitation, steal from white men and kill them, while selling white women into slavery. And while this was based in very loose reality (the triad societies of Canton did, indeed, participate in the sex trafficking of Chinese women to California and the Coolie trade that sent enslaved Chinese men to work on plantations in South America), the fears were stoked by ferocious anti-Chinese rhetoric in Europe and America.

The Chinese who emigrated to America were seen no different, and while public opinion waxed and waned, it was always understood that the Chinaman was a noble savage at best, and the earthly embodiment of evil at his worst. While modern Chinese and Chinese Americans may not be subject to the Noble Savage ideas from two centuries ago, it is not uncommon for Americans, especially white American youths, to take this idea as gospel, tormenting their Asian classmates throughout their formative years.

“China’s Sorrow: Nostalgia for a China that did not exist”

(As a forewarning, this the section where I may become quite emotional.)

Something that I encountered today was nostalgia. Not my own nostalgia, but the nostalgia of an author who grew up in a mission or international settlement in pre-WWII China, and fled from the country just before Pearl Harbor. This author, who shall remain nameless for the reason I stated in the preface of this essay, spoke highly of China’s sights and sounds, the people, the food, the craftwork, and of their pleasant life as the child of white missionaries in China. They spoke on how the pace of life in China was different than America, and that they much preferred the comforts of life in the Orient, surrounded by Oriental people and objects, enamored with Orientialia well into their adult life.

I found this passage to be absolutely appalling. I understand that I may be picking the wrong fight here, but this is my emotional response to an issue that I have found difficult to articulate that managed to, somehow, someway, manifest succinctly in the preface of a book that I randomly encountered. I lay my thoughts here:

White missionaries in China lived privileged lives, much like the other westerners that inhabited international settlements all throughout the major cities of the country. Missionaries, like the other westerners, were an extremely privileged class, living privileged lives in a country that was being torn apart by colonization, internal strife, famine, disease, and violence. While the average Chinese peasant in late Qing, early republic-era China had to contend with the daily realities of starvation, material scarcity, and the reality that a western could beat them or kill them and face no legal consequences for that action. Merchants were forced to deal with countless one-sided trade and land treaties, while government officials struggled to keep the country together, if they weren’t themselves contributing to the horrendous reality. Life in international settlements for western nationals is often reminisced upon as idyllic, quaint, and prosperous, which paints a stark contrast to their Chinese neighbors’ experiences. The westerners were off-limits, exempt from legal prosecution, and largely able to conduct themselves as they saw fit, even when their conduct directly endangered Chinese lives.

Meanwhile, outside of these international settlements, war ravaged the country. When the Qing dynasty fell and the Republic of China was established, the country fractured. The nationalist government was constantly at war, sometimes with itself, sometimes with bandits and warlords, sometimes with organized crime, and most of all with the Chinese Communist Party. The Koumintang government, in the wake of Sun Yat-sen’s death, saw Chiang Kai-shek seize power. The Japanese began to aggressively push their borders into China, fighting with superior military technology and training while the national army faltered from unwilling conscripts led into disastrous battles by inept, corrupt, and tyrannical officers. The CCP fought a guerilla campaign against the KMT that further muddied the conflict, with innocents caught between two radical and violent sides while Japan tightened the noose. Communist and Nationalist fought together against the Japanese one day, and may have fought against each other the next.

While the country was torn apart, the westerners in international settlements were unconcerned with the wars raging across the land. They continued to live their idyllic lives until the war was literally at their doorstop -- only then did they become concerned with the plight of the Chinese people.

Only then did the westerners in international settlements care for the circumstances of the average Chinese peasant in the countryside or worker in the city. They could bear no concern while they benefited from cheap Chinese labor, horrific working conditions, or while some of them got away with murder. They could bear no concern while Europe and America colonized China and ransacked the economy. And they could bear no concern for the Chinese being tortured, beaten, raped, and murdered in the countryside, far from their gates, until it was on their doorstep.

The nostalgia that some westerners feel for China, a China that existed before the chaos of the 1920s onwards, is propped up by lives of privilege and white-washed memories that ignore the struggle of the Chinese people right under their noses.

They feel nostalgia for a China that did not exist, because the one that existed was destroyed in part by their international settlements and the colonization efforts of their home countries.

This nostalgia for a China that was at least slightly better than the chaos of the 1920s through the 1940s, or better than the Cultural Revolution, or better before Tiananmen Square exists also within the Chinese immigrant community. But this nostalgia strikes in a way that the other does not.

While the westerner who lived in an international settlement may be able to intellectually sympathize with the Chinese experience during this tumultuous time, it is the Chinese themselves who bear the actual scars. Many of our elders long for a prosperous China as well, but there is a key difference in this: our elders, our family, sometimes we ourselves, bear the scars of the past. Our nostalgia is momentary, continuously shattered by the very real heartbreak that the Chinese and Chinese American community has been subject to over the last century. While circumstances and perspectives differed, the China that some of us long for is just as much a painful sore on our souls as it is a pleasant memory. The pain, the loss, the grief, anxiety, and struggle.

It is a nostalgia for our ancestral land that cannot be found anywhere else, as precious as it is painful.

Hsu Liang Yu

#aapi #end aapi hate #aapi history #aapi authors #chinese american #history #white allyship #white allies

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maddrmatt · 4 years

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Waltz of the Destined (SoKai Day 2020)

Greetings readers and fellow SoKai fans! It is I, the Mad Doctor, here with my contribution to SoKai Day 2020. Let’s join Sora and Kairi as they celebrate a very special day. Enjoy!

________________________________________________________________

Beast’s Castle

“Oh ho ho! Sora, mon ami, you look rather dashing!” exclaimed Lumiere.

“Do you really think so?” asked Sora.

“Absolument! See for yourself,” said the former candelabra gesturing to a mirror to which the young Keyblade wielder approached and gazed at his reflection.

He was now wearing a formal bluish black coat over a scarlet dress shirt. In addition, he wore dress pants that matched the color of the coat and shiny black shoes. Around his neck was a pale golden cravat.

‘I guess I do look pretty good in this,’ thought the Hero of the Keyblade.

Then a knock was heard at the door followed by a voice that asked, “Sora, can I come in?”

“Yes, of course, Adam,” said Sora. ‘After all this time, I still can’t believe that’s the voice of the Beast that I became friends with so long ago.

The door opened and in stepped Prince Adam who gave Sora a smile. “Sora, you look very handsome in that suit.”

“Doesn’t he, master?” asked Lumiere before gazing up to Sora’s hair which was still in its usual spiky style with a slight frown. “Although Sora, I still wish you would’ve done something with that hair of yours.”

“Take it from me, Lumiere, that any attempt to do so would be a losing battle. My mom learned that a long time ago. My hair is just naturally wild and unruly,” said Sora.

“I understand, Sora. After all, I had hair of the same nature all over for the longest time,” said Adam to which he and Lumiere chuckled.

“I guess it matters not. I’m sure your dear mademoiselle Kairi will be quite impressed once she sees you,” said Lumiere.

“I hope so,” said Sora uncertainly as he tugged on his collar while gazing at himself in the mirror.

Adam noticed his friend’s demeanor. “Sora, what’s the matter?” asked the prince.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just feeling a little nervous, that’s all,” said Sora.

Adam gave his young friend a perplexed look. “Nervous? I didn’t think the boy who’s saved so many worlds and defeated so many monsters, villains and forces of darkness would be nervous about a dance with the girl he loves.”

“Surely, you’ve danced before with her?” asked Lumiere.

“Sort of. Whenever we’d have celebrations on the Islands, Kairi, Riku and I would always join in the dances. Although, Riku would often need a little extra encouragement from us,” said Sora with a chuckle.

“It was pretty fun. I’ve also danced before in other worlds and the ones I was dancing with thought I was pretty good too,” he said as he recalled the times he danced with Rapunzel and Ariel.

Then Sora became serious. “But this is nothing like those times. This is the first time Kairi and I will be dancing together since we became boyfriend and girlfriend. And on a day that we’re celebrating something very dear to us.”

“Yes, you told us it was the anniversary of when you and Kairi shared those special fruits from your islands. What was it they were called again?” asked Lumiere.

“Paopu fruits,” answered Sora.

“That’s right. Oh, what you told us about the legend behind them sounded so romantic. I wish I could have a pair to share with mon cher Plumette,” said Lumiere as his eyes lit up with the thought of his own lady love.

“The moment that we shared those fruits was one of the best moments of our lives and that’s why it’s worth celebrating. Especially this time,” said Sora.

“Because you both didn’t get to celebrate the first anniversary,” said Adam understanding.

Sora nodded sadly as he recalled the reasons why he and Kairi couldn’t. ‘I had to go and get myself trapped in another world and Kairi had to go to sleep for over a year so Ansem the Wise and his team could look for clues in her heart. Not the best start to a romantic relationship.’

“I just want it to be perfect for both of us. But I can’t help but wonder about everything that could go wrong. What if either of us forget the steps you and Belle taught us? What if I step on her foot or her dress? Anything could happen to ruin the evening,” said Sora who looked like he was about to panic

“Sora, calm down,” said Adam as he turned Sora around to face him and placed his hands on his shoulders. “Listen to me. I know what it’s like to be nervous about something like this. I was the same way at the thought of dancing with Belle. Do you remember that night?”

“Yes. And I’m still sorry about that,” said Sora.

“For what?” asked Adam.

“That Donald, Goofy and I interrupted your night and that it didn’t go the way you wanted it to,” said the Keyblade wielder.

Adam shook his head with a smile. “Don’t be sorry about that. It was good that the three of you were there that night. And though it didn’t turn out exactly as planned, it still turned out to be a night to remember. But I was still pretty nervous before especially since there was a lot riding on it.”

“Yes. We were counting on that night to put us one step closer to breaking the spell,” chimed in Lumiere.

“Exactly. But there’s no need for you to pressure yourself, Sora. I know all this nervousness you’re feeling is due to you wanting to make this night special for Kairi and that’s a great sign of the true love that you feel for her. But I’m sure Kairi wants the same for you as well. So just focus on having a good time tonight and you both will enjoy it,” said Adam.

Sora considered Adam’s words and then he smiled. “Heh. It’s a little funny. Back then, I had to be the one to boost your spirits.”

Adam chuckled. “Then consider the favor returned, my friend.”

“Ahem,” said a voice. All three of them turned in the direction of the voice and saw Cogsworth standing in the doorway.

“Are you ready, Sora?” asked the former clock.

Sora looked at the encouraging looks from Adam and Lumiere before saying, “Yes. Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Cogsworth smiled and clapped his hands together. “Splendid! Now the musicians are all ready in the ballroom. When you are both ready to start your dance, just let them know with some kind of signal.”

“Thanks, Cogsworth. We will,” said Sora.

“I shall go and inform Kairi you are ready for her as well,” said Cogsworth as he left.

“I’ll be waiting for her,” said Sora before turning to Adam and Lumiere. “Well, here goes nothing. Thank you both for all your help. Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it at all, Sora,” said Lumiere.

“Just remember to enjoy your time together,” said Adam.

Sora gave a nod of thanks. With that, he headed out of the room on his way to do what he dreamed of doing with Kairi since he imagined it back in Halloween Town.

After Sora had left, Lumiere chuckled. “Never thought I’d see the day our brave young hero would be in a state such as this. And about a dance of all things.”

“Makes me wonder if Kairi’s in a similar state of mind right now,” said Adam.

________________________________________________________________

“Kairi, you look beautiful!” exclaimed Belle.

“Simply lovely, dearie,” said Mrs. Potts.

“Lovely nothing! She’s positively ravishing! Ladies, we did great work on this girl!” exclaimed Madame de Garderobe.

As the three other women went on about how she looked, Kairi made her way across the room to a nearby mirror. She could scarcely believe her eyes when she saw her reflection.

She was dressed in a lovely pale violet ballgown similar to the one Belle had worn. There were designs of flowers stitched into the fabric near the hem. She wore long elbow length gloves and seeing that she had gained a little height, she was wearing high-heeled shoes under her dress.

Her face had a touch of light makeup that was just enough to bring out her natural beauty. She was wearing jeweled earrings in addition to her usual necklace. Much of her red hair had been tied back into an elegant bun with a few curled strands framing her face. The bun had been decorated with a cluster of violet flowers.

After beholding her appearance for a few minutes, a look of uncertainty came to Kairi’s face. She rubbed her arm up and down.

Belle and the others took notice. “Kairi? Is something wrong?” the former Princess of Heart asked.

“It’s the dress, isn’t it? I knew we should’ve gone with the pink one since that seems to be your color. I just thought this one would go with your eyes,” said Madame de Garderobe.

“Oh, no, no! The dress is lovely, Madame de Garderobe. There’s nothing wrong with it at all,” said Kairi.

“Then why the long face, dearie? Aren’t you looking forward to your dance with Sora to celebrate your special day?” asked Mrs. Potts.

“Special doesn’t even begin to describe the day we shared paopu fruits, Mrs. Potts. And yes, I am looking forward to this dance with Sora. It’s just…” said Kairi.

“Just what, Kairi?” asked Belle.

“It just feels a little too good to be true,” said Kairi solemnly.

“Because of everything the two of you have been through,” said Belle immediately understanding.

“Yes. Every day that we’ve spent together since I found him has been wonderful. And getting to celebrate this day is like a beautiful dream come true. But I can’t help but wonder how long these times will last and the next time the worlds are in danger, we may end up separated again. And when that happens, what if it’ll be the time we’re separated forever?” asked Kairi who sounded as if she was close to tears.

The three women looked at Kairi with sympathy. They gazed at her back knowing that under her dress, was the horrific scar from Xehanort’s horrific deed. But as bad as that mark was, it was nothing compared to the scars Kairi bore on her mind and on her heart.

“The poor dear. So young to be so haunted by times past,” said Mrs. Potts with Madame de Garderobe nodding in agreement

Belle approached the younger girl, turned her around and pulled her into a comforting embrace. “I know how you feel, Kairi. Even after all this time, I still, on occasion, remember that night I nearly lost Adam forever,” said the former Princess of Heart to the current one. ‘And I never would’ve forgiven myself if I did.’

“Yes. Nearly losing the master, especially after he had learned to be so much better, was truly horrific for us all,” said Mrs. Potts.

Belle then tilted Kairi’s head up by the chin so their eyes could meet and gave her a reassuring smile. “But trust me when I say that in time, it will get better as long as the both of you continue to treasure every moment you have together just like me and Adam do. I know you and Sora have been through so much more than anything any of us here can imagine. But against all odds, you two have found your way back to each other and I believe that no matter what happens, you’ll continue to do so. Isn’t that what the legend behind your paopu fruit is all about?”

Kairi thought on Belle’s words and slowly, a smile came to her face. ‘Belle’s right. I shouldn’t be worried about the possibility of losing Sora forever. Not on this day when we’re celebrating one of the most important memories of ours. I just have to keep having faith that Sora and I will continue to show that the legend of the paopu fruit is true.’

“Thank you, Belle. That was exactly what I needed to hear,” said Kairi.

“Anything to help you enjoy your dance with Sora. It’s a well-deserved reward for the both of you,” said Belle.

Kairi then turned back to the mirror and let out a chuckle. “I still can’t believe that it’s really me in this dress and everything.”

“I take you’ve never dressed like this before, have you?” asked Madame de Garderobe.

“Well, I have had to dress for formal occasions that my dad has hosted. He is the Islands’ mayor after all. But they never called for anything this fancy. I think this is the first time since I learned about being a Princess of Heart that I actually look the part. I wonder if Sora’s even going to recognize me in this,” said Kairi.

“He will and you know why? Because Sora fell in love with the girl before the princess just like I fell in love with the beast before the prince. Exterior appearances can never outshine the beauty of your heart,” said Belle.

Kairi’s smile got even bigger as she turned to Belle and the others. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for us tonight. When Sora suggested we celebrate today with a dance, all we wanted was to just use your ballroom. I never would have guessed that you’d set us up with our own private ball complete with musicians and new clothing. Not to mention giving us a few dancing lessons. You all really didn’t need to do so much for us.”

“How could we not, Kairi, after what Sora’s done for us like helping Adam rescue me from Maleficent and stopping Xaldin from causing trouble here. Not to mention what the two of you and all of your friends have done for the worlds,” said Belle.

“Yeah. And I bet if any of you had been here when that ruffian Gaston attacked the castle, you would’ve been a big help. Not that we didn’t handle it ourselves,” said Madame de Gardrobe.

“After what you told me about what a creep this Gaston was, I definitely would’ve loved to show him a thing or two,” said Kairi pounding her fist into her palm.

A knock was heard on the door. “Come in!” called Belle.

The door opened revealing Cogsworth. His eyes opened wide and his mouth broke into a smile when he saw Kairi. “Kairi, I must say that you look quite elegant, my dear.”

“Thank you, Cogsworth,” said Kairi.

“If I daresay, our lad Sora is certainly in for quite a sight,” chuckled Cogsworth.

Kairi gave her sly grin. “I can’t wait to see his face when he sees me. Then again, I could probably be dressed in rags and covered in dirt and he’d still think I looked great,” she said eliciting laughter from everyone present.

“I’m sure he would, dearie,” said Mrs. Potts between laughs.

“Yes indeed. Anyway, I am here to tell you, your young man awaits,” said Cogsworth gesturing down the hall with his hand and letting out a small chuckle.

Kairi took a deep breath and she turned back to Belle and the other women. “Well, I guess this it.”

“Just remember to have fun, Kairi. Make this night one to remember,” said Belle.

“I will, Belle. And thank you as well as Mrs. Potts and Madame de Garderobe again for everything,” said Kairi as she made her way out of the room. The others smiled as they watched her leave.

‘Time for this Princess of Heart to dance with her knight,’ thought Kairi as she walked down the hall.

________________________________________________________________

In the main hall of the castle, Sora was pacing on the landing between the staircases. Every so often, he glanced through the open doors and saw the ballroom where soon, he and Kairi would be sharing their first dance.

‘Get it together, Sora. You’re not going to make it a special night for Kairi if you can’t get over these nerves.’

“Sora?”

Sora turned in the direction of the voice. He suddenly felt all feelings of nervousness leave him as his jaw dropped.

Gracefully descending the opposite staircase, dressed in the loveliest ballgown he had ever seen, was the girl he loved more than anything in all the worlds. Kairi, who had only ever been a princess in name only, now looked like one right out of a fairy tale.

When she reached the landing and stood in front of him, Kairi took a look at his gobsmacked expression and giggled. “Well, Sora, how do I look?” she asked with her usual cheeky tone.

“K-Kai, you look…” stammered Sora as he suddenly drew a blank on finding the right words to describe how his girlfriend looked right now.

‘Come on, Sora! After all this time, it shouldn’t be this hard to say something flattering to her.’

Kairi, in the meantime, was trying her best to refrain from laughing. She always found it amusing whenever Sora would get flustered. But it was also something that endeared him to her even more.

Finally, after taking a deep breath, Sora smiled. “Amazing? Extraordinary? Magnificent? I don’t think there’s a word to describe what I see justice since I just fell in love with you all over again.”

Kairi blushed. “Oh Sora. Such loving words deserve an appropriate reward,” she said as she leaned in toward him.

Sora took the hint and leaned in himself. Their lips met in a loving kiss. They stayed in that position for a few moments before they parted with contented smiles on their faces.

“So, how do I look?” asked Sora.

Kairi then looked over her boyfriend as if she was studying him. “Well, it’s going to be hard to top that glowing review you gave me, Sora,” she said before giving him a gentle smile. “But I’d say you look like the prince this princess has dreamed of for a long time.”

Sora smiled. But then all of a sudden, Kairi reached up and tussled his hair.

“But you still couldn’t bring yourself to comb this bird’s nest you call hair?” she said with a laugh.

“Hey! You know that trying to get my hair out of this style is doomed to failure,” Sora shot back.

“Well, if anything, it’s a look that’s always been so you,” said Kairi.

Sora gave his girlfriend a smile and then offered her his arm. “Well, my princess, the ballroom awaits. Shall we?”

Kairi giggled and then looped her arm around Sora’s. Together, they walked into the ballroom.

As they moved toward the center arm-in-arm, Kairi marvelled at every detail of the ballroom from the columns to the chandelier to the heavenly mural on the ceiling. “I still can’t believe how lovely this place is.”

Sora let out a chuckle. “Well, it wasn’t so lovely when Donald, Goofy and I first saw it. Xaldin unleashed a Heartless that possessed this room and turned it into something out of a nightmare.”

Kairi scoffed. “How dare he?” she asked indignantly.

“Now, Kairi, let’s not think too badly of Dilan. It’s true that he did some bad things here. But remember, he’s done so much in making up for them. All of the former Organization members who are on our side have,” said Sora.

Finally, they reached the center of the ballroom and began to get into position. Kairi placed her left hand on Sora’s right shoulder while Sora placed his right hand on her left side. They extended their free arms to their sides and grasped each other’s free hands.

“You ready?” asked Sora.

Kairi smiled. “Let’s do this.”

They then turned to a corner of the ballroom where a small band of musicians had been waiting with their instruments. Both of them gave a nod toward them to let them know that it was the time for them to begin. The musicians nodded back and took up their instruments.

(In-Universe Music: How Does a Moment Last Forever by Celine Dion performed by the musicians and sang by a vocalist.)

As the air of the ballroom filled with music and a vocalist sang a song asking about moments lasting forever, Sora and Kairi each took a deep breath and began to move around the ballroom in a gentle waltz.

As they danced, Sora occasionally glanced at the floor. He watched his feet carefully to make sure he didn’t tread upon Kairi’s dress by accident.

But it didn’t take long before Sora’s confidence in his dancing began to increase. His eyes soon focused less on his feet and more on looking into Kairi’s eyes.

“You’re doing wonderfully, Sora,” said Kairi.

Sora gave one of his trademark grins. “Well, Ariel and Rapunzel certainly thought so.”

Kairi’s eyes narrowed but retained a smile on her lips. “You know, most boyfriends usually don’t bring up other girls they’ve danced with when dancing with their girlfriends,” she said in a teasing tone.

After Sora’s face gave a nervous look, Kairi giggled. “But I’ll let that slide. After all, they are mutual friends and among our biggest supporters. Although, I don’t think dancing with Ariel counts since you didn’t have legs then.”

The two of them laughed together. Soon, the laughter subsided, and they continued to dance while silently gazing at each other with boundless affection.

________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile, unseen by anyone in the ballroom, there was a small figure crouched near the right side of entrance. In his hands, pointed at the dancing couple, was Sora’s Gummi Phone.

‘Okay. Just remember what Sora told you and wait for a good moment,’ he thought.

“Chip!” exclaimed a voice causing the little boy to nearly jump out of his skin.

Chip turned around and saw not only his mother, but Belle and Adam coming up the stairs behind him. Mrs. Potts didn’t look pleased.

“What on earth are you doing, Chip? You might interrupt Sora and Kairi’s special night,” said Mrs. Potts.

“I’m not trying to cause trouble, Mama. I’m just doing what Sora asked me to do,” said Chip.

“What do you mean, Chip?” asked Adam.

Chip showed the three of them the Gummi Phone. “Sora told me that this doohickey of his can make pictures without even having to paint them. He showed me how to use it and wanted me to make one of him and Kairi while they danced,” said Chip.

Adam smiled. “Now that certainly is some amazing magic.”

“Yes. It is a fascinating device. I bet Papa would love to take it apart and see how it works,” said Belle.

Mrs. Potts, in the meantime, gave her son a smile. “Well, Chip, it seems you have a pretty important task entrusted to you. So, best see to it that you carry it out, my dear.”

Chip gave his usual chip-toothed smile and returned to his position near the door with the Gummi Phone. “They’re going to live happily ever after. Right, Mama?”

The smiles of the three adults vanished. “I certainly hope so, Chip,” said Mrs. Potts.

Chip was confused. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not that we don’t hope for the best for them, Chip. But remember that Sora and Kairi, as Guardians of Light, have a duty to protect the worlds from the darkness and that involves a great deal of danger and uncertainty. So, achieving a ‘happily ever after’ is going to be hard for them,” said Adam.

Belle then knelt down beside Chip and gave him a reassuring smile. “But not knowing what lies ahead is precisely why Sora and Kairi treasure every special moment they have together. And though it may be hard for them, a happy ending is not impossible because they’ll stop at nothing to get there.”

Chip looked back at his mother and Adam who showed looks of agreement with Belle’s statement. He then looked back into the ballroom and aimed the Gummi Phone at the dancing couple in anticipation of the right moment.

‘They’ll get there. I know they will.’

________________________________________________________________

As the song continued, Sora and Kairi twirled about on the dance floor. Then the vocalist sang some lyrics about moments and memories that weren’t so perfect or sweet. Those lyrics struck a nerve within the Princess of Heart.

‘We’ve certainly had some of those,’ thought Kairi as she recalled the worse times that she, Sora and all their friends had been put through thanks to the machinations of evildoers like Maleficent, Xehanort and the Master of Masters.

“Kai? Are you okay?” asked Sora.

Kairi realized that she must’ve been wearing her thought on her face leading to Sora’s sudden concern. But as she gazed at the love of her life, she realized something.

Suddenly, she released Sora’s hand, threw her arms around him and held him tightly. Surprisingly, their feet continued to move around in their dancing motions.

As she rested her head on his shoulder, she whispered into Sora’s ear, “It’s been worth it. All of it has been worth it.”

Sora was briefly confused. Then he understood as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly. They continued to dance while holding each other close.

After a bit of time had passed, Sora asked, “Hey, Kairi? Not to spoil this moment, but I just noticed something.”

Kairi pulled away and looked at Sora in confusion. “What is it, Sora?”

With a bit of a mischievous glimmer in his eye, he asked, “Have you gotten a little…taller?”

Kairi gave look of surprise before letting out a laugh. “What, in all the worlds, would lead you to think that?”

Sora gave a little shrug. “I must’ve held you so many times, I guess I can tell when something feels a little off.”

Kairi laughed some more before she said, “It must be these dancing shoes I’m wearing. They have a little more heel than my usual footwear so that’s why I must feel a little taller than normal to you.”

She then let out a small groan. “They are a little uncomfortable though. I don’t think I’m going to make a big habit of wearing them.”

“Well, if it helps, I think you move very gracefully in them,” complimented Sora.

Kairi blushed. “Well, maybe I might consider it for future special occasions.”

Then she realized what Sora had just done. He had sensed the darkness of the past creeping up on her, so he did what he always did when that happened: shined a light to guide her out of it.

Kairi suddenly gave a determined look. “And we’re going to have them, Sora. As our lives go on, we’re going to have so much more special occasions to celebrate together.”

Sora nodded. “We will, Kai. As long we each keep being the light that leads to each other through the darkness.”

“I will always be your light, Sora. I promise.”

“And I promise to always be yours, Kairi.”

With the mood lightened, they continued their dance. By now, their confidence in their dancing had increased so much that they were now performing more daring dance moves. Sora even grabbed Kairi by her sides and raised her up as she laughed joyously.

Soon, they could tell that the song was coming to an end. Their dancing began to slow down until they reached a complete stop.

They moved in close and once again, met each other in a tender kiss while Sora held Kairi by her back and Kairi held her arms around his shoulders. It was the perfect way to finish the dance as the vocalist sang the last lines of the song.

________________________________________________________________

Back by the door, Chip smiled at the picture he had taken with the Gummi Phone. It now held the image of Sora and Kairi holding each other as they kissed.

“Perfect! They’re going to love it!” he quietly exclaimed.

The moment captured in the picture was indeed one to remember. But, in the end, it would pale in comparison to the memory of the moment that was now etched in the hearts of Sora and Kairi that would live on throughout the rest of their lives.

________________________________________________________________

Notes from the Mad Doctor:

Hope you all enjoyed this story. It certainly wasn’t easy to depict a dance in words not to mention designing formal wear for Sora and Kairi. But I’d like to think I did a good job.

I’ve always thought that, after Sora, Donald and Goofy left Beast’s Castle after beating Xaldin, the events that lead to the spell being broken, including the incident with Gaston, would play out like the movie. Hence, the Beast being Prince Adam in the end credits of Kingdom Hearts II.

In case you didn’t catch on what inspired the title, it was the track Waltz of the D____d that plays while you’re exploring Beast’s Castle (same track is also the reason why Melody of Memory had it’s rating raised LOL).

I took quite a few things from the live action Beauty and the Beast such as the song and the names of the Wardrobe and the feather duster. Although Plumette is the third name that Lumiere’s girlfriend has gone by in many incarnations and Madame de Gardrobe, while unnamed in the original movie, has a different name in the Broadway show.

Now for some words of thanks:

I give my thanks to whoever reads, comments, likes and/or reblogs this story.

I like to also thank all the artists and writers who have posted on this day. Your works were a pleasure to see and read.

And an especially big thank you to the moderators of SoKai Day for enabling us to be part of a great collection to celebrate our favorite couple.

Stay tuned for more from the Mad Doctor in the future!

#kingdom hearts #kh fanfiction #sokai #sokai dance #sokai kiss #sokaiday #sokaiday2020 #lumiere #sora #beast/prince adam #cogsworth #kairi #belle #mrs. potts #wardrobe/madame de garderobe #chip potts #maddrmatt

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hhuta · 3 years

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(3D lbqfm anon) y'know after reading ur post on it i realized i a) subconsciously noticed the de-gaying and that's probably why i didn't like it and b) somehow didn't notice ANY changes despite the fact that I watched the two versions less than a week apart,,, i thought it was just the new cravat (tho i still don't like it. the old one was better) | also,,,, is it too much trouble to ask why u don't like the 3D assassymphonie? guessing smtg to do w the women | also ur opinion on 3D vaec?

where do i start with miss l'assasymphonie.. btw u can watch the video of the two versions side by side here. and my rant got wayyy too long so ill talk about VAEC in another post ldkjasl

tw: self harm/suicide mention just to be safe

im going to start with minor differences that make me prefer the 2010 version but not hate the 2011 one

first of all his dramatic soft gay sappy ass touching his heart when talking about mozarts music i like that a lot :(

then when he sings "killing out of spite everything i create" he metaphorically stabs himself in 2010 but not in 2011

and i love the first version because its a nice and subtle parallel between how mozarts music makes him feel like (lbqfm) vs how his own music affects him (l'assasymphonie) as i pointed out here before. this is on different levels !! the fact that in lbqfm its his inner gay demon stabbing him, representing mozart(s music) and in l'assasymphonie he stabs himself..... bc he is killing what he creates and what he creates is part of himself... so this isnt about him wanting to kill mozart its about him being self destructive... this is crazy this is just one gesture and i can go on and on about it and honestly my rant will only get more insane.

later he grabs the knife at different moments and in different ways and i think the 2010 version is more dramatic and impactful. the editing helps too, it really made me jump, its all done at the right time. but honestly both are valid to me; i feel like in 2010 hes more angry and impulsive, like its the very first time he thinks about doing something like this, whereas in 2011 he feels sad and defeated, like hes going back to a place he fought very hard to get out of and because of this one guy hes back there, but in the end he recognises its his own fault

another minor difference that i think is worth mentioning, and honestly i like both versions, is what he does at the "senseless (or crazy) symphony" part. in 2010 he almost covers his ears cuz obviously it goes along with the lyrics in a literal sense. meanwhile in 2011 its more of a symbolic interpretation? idk how to word it but 2010 feels like hes just talking about his music and the thoughts inside his head making no sense, but in 2011 when he looks at his writs, his veins, its like he is talking about himself as a whole; a being without any meaning, who is losing his mind, and i like that too

and this difference goes on when he talks about the "disconcerting concert"; 2010 feels like hes literally listening to it around him, his performance in 2010 is overall more dramatic lkjslkd, meanwhile theres none of that in 2011, hes too melancholic to be jumping around

here when hes talking about his talent (or rather lack of) u can see how hes more angry in 2010 and sad in 2011 (honestly this corroborates my theory that at the beginning florent played salieri as a legit evil villain but as it went on he added more depth)

anyways so far both versions are good to me now........ the fucking dancers............... i move away from the mic to breathe in.jpg

theres just. so fucking much going on in 2011. there are a shit ton of people moving around, the flashing lights, the constant zoom in and out, the curtains moving the background, im gonna have a stroke????? l'assasymphonie is such a heavy song, emotionally, and florents performance is amazing on its on theres no fucking need to add 100 more elements!??!? it totally takes away ur focus from salieri ....

my biggest problem is with the dancers as u guessed it cuz honestly idk why they are there, i dont understand the need. i get that they are his inner demons, but not the sexy ones, so they are there to represent his inner turmoil and add a chaos element to the performance and a parallel to lbqfm with the whole hands on salieri part, but its way to obvious that it becomes repetitive! inner demons dancing around a character happens way too much on mor; bim bam boum in a way, j'accuse mon pere, la mascarade, comedie-tragedie, si je defaille, lbqfm and now again?!!?!?!?! bitihc dlajsdlkas

and the worst fucking part to me is when salieri goes to kill the female dancer

.....why whY... WHY.. why make the song literal like this!!! this is not what its about??!?! i know she isnt supposed to be A Person, this isnt him being A Murderer, she is him in a way but ?? we already saw him almost killing himself??!!? why repeat that, this is just so unnecessary and it doesnt sit right with me why make him stab a woman!! it makes my blood boil. it takes away all the drama from the other scene, of him with the knife on his wrist, because it is essentially the same!

now lets discuss why i prefer the lost half naked blindfolded men. is it because its gay? yes. is it because of the kinky element? yes. u see how that creates a parallel to lbqfm but in a subtle way? yes thank you.

to elaborate i feel like the 2010 dancers represent his psyche at the moment soooo much better. its not just simply his inner demons haunting him again, making it repetitive.

his is how i interpret it and how it relates to salieri:

the blindfold: god it can mean so much... above all i think its his envy and anger blinding him, making him feel lost and afraid. but it can also represent how salieri is a stern man, he only sees things one way and is blinded to other possibilities, other ways of living. because he is so narrow minded, so used to just following the status quo, he doesnt understand mozart and how his carefree way of life is working for him. he doesnt understand his conflicted feelings towards mozart. he doesnt understand how mozarts music can be so unconventional and yet beautiful, etc etc. his world was shattered and he feels lost because of this one little guy

but honestly i think the intention was to give a shoutout to amadeus lmao which is still cool. they do mention in MOR that mozart can play blindfolded so u can view as a parallel to that too

the lack of clothes: around mozart salieri feels naked but not in a sexy and fun way, in vulnerable and seen for the first time way. imagine how strongly he considered changing his name and moving countries after the whole eh bien, maestro? trop de notes? ordeal..... he was caught off guard in that situation so he let the truth out way too much, but he knows he cant fake it around mozart any other time either

their behaviour: they look afraid, lost, in pain and are constantly falling, getting up, then falling again and being pushed up against the wall by something invisible (to me its mozarts music/influence) and honestly i dont have to say anything else ! its all there !!! it represents salieris emotions perfectly !!!!!

in summary, to me the 2010 dancers dont have a lot to do with the lyrics of the song and i think thats good. they are there to add a new element to it, to let us see inside salieris head, while salieri himself is performing what the lyrics are about. so on the other hand i think the 2011 dancers are repetitive and unnecessary, not adding anything new to the performance

#final thoughts: maybe the 2010 choreo was too ahead of its time for certain people so they changed it.....#anyways that was so fucking long i hope at least half of it makes sense #l'assasymphonie #asks #mor thoughts #3d anon

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duker42 · 5 years

Text

💜Give Me Tonight💜

Y/N calmly watches her two squad members square off. It took so little to set Jean and Eren off, she simply rolled her eyes and continued to watch from her tucked away spot.

The celebratory meal sat before her, untouched, her portion of the scarce meat had been given to a younger Cadet, their eyes expressing their eternal gratitude for the slice of beef. The younger soldiers around her failed to realize the reasoning behind the benevolent gesture of the officers. This was the last real dinner many of them would ever have.

Tomorrow evening the Scouts would embark on their most dangerous mission yet. Retaking Wall Maria and reaching the Yeager basement in Shiganshina. As the announcement was made about the serum that Captain Levi would be carrying, Y/N heart sank. She knew that the numbers of dead would far outweigh any previous expedition. The years spent working beside the men standing in front of them told her that.

While she was new to Levi Squad, she was one of the few veterans the Survey Corps had left. The last member of Miche Zacharias’ squad, her injuries sustained during the 57th Expedition had prevented her from accompanying them to Utgard Castle. It was ultimately her saving grace. With the rest of her squad wiped out by the titans that moved at night, Commander Erwin has reassigned her to the Captain’s squad, the oldest member apart from the Captain himself.

She raised an eyebrow as the man moved quietly among the crowd, making his way to the two squaring off against each other. The lightening fast kick to Eren and punch to Jean quickly ended the squabble. Y/N snickered at the disgust in Levi’s voice as he demanded Jean’s puke be cleaned up. She watched as he slipped over to the barrels of ale, poured himself a tankard and disappeared outside. Making her decision, she picked up her own mug and made her way through the crowd, following her Captain into the night.

She spent several minutes tracking him down. Walking slowly down the narrow alleyway, she sees that he is concentrating on a conversation behind him on the Main Street. His mug is sitting on the ground next to him, his arms propped up on his bent knees, back against the wall. As she drawls closer, his grey orbs flicker up to her and he puts a finger to his lips, telling her to be quiet. Y/N hears Armin’s enthusiastic voice talking about something called the sea on the street beyond. Eren’s low reply came as she lowered herself to sit across from Levi, her legs stretched out in front of her, brushing the tips of his shoes.

As the group shuffles off to find their beds, the silence is broken as Levi says pulling his mug up to take a swallow “Their dreams are big, I hope it helps them survive this.” He puts the mug to his lips, downing a healthy gulp.

Humming her agreement, she observes the man beside her. His causal clothes look just as good as his uniform. The dark trousers and form fitting grey long sleeved shirt are a bit more approachable without the formality of his cravat. His eyes catch hers as he turns to look at her. “What are you doing out here? You should be resting.”

Sighing, she steels herself against the rejection she knows she is about to face. “I wanted to ask you something. Would you.....spend the night with me tonight?”

She watches as he his eyes widen in shock. Of all the things he could have heard come from her mouth, that was the last thing he was expecting. Nodding towards the mug in her hand he manages, “How many of those have you had, Y/N? Are you drunk?”

She shakes her head. “First one and only one, haven’t even had half.”

He shakes his onyx colored hair as he awkwardly takes a larger gulp of his ale. “I.....I.....”

She hurriedly interrupts his stuttering. “Before you answer, let me explain. This time, two days from now, one or both of us is going to be dead. Along with the majority of those we know. I just.....I just want to experience a little more of what life has to offer before I go, you know?”

His steel colored eyes study her as he contemplates her words. She nervously twitches under the penetrating scrutiny. “Why would you choose me? Of everyone here?”

“That’s easy. I trust you and I like you. Plus, you are like me. You have dealt with a lot of this world’s suffering, but experienced very little of its pleasure.” Y/N’s eyes sparkled with honesty as she made her case. She glanced down at the hands folded in her lap. “I have killed with these hands and will continue to kill for humanity. But for once I want to use them to comfort and satisfy. I’m just asking that you give me tonight.”

Levi looked down at the feminine hands clasped together on her lap. Slender fingers he knew could wield a blade as well as anyone, scarred from the busted knuckles of past fights and skirmishes, calloused from hours gripping blades. He thought they looked very similar to his own.

He had tried to push away any physical attraction he had held for anyone his entire life. Repressing the hormones of his earlier years had been easy in the constant fight for survival. As he had grown older, it had served him well as countless of those around him had fallen. Still, he had always been curious of how it would feel to hold and be held, to lose himself in another, even if it was just a night. And Y/N was attractive, every male within the Scouting Regiment had said so. Better yet, she was practical and older than the other brats around them.

He drained the rest of his drink and climbed to his feet. Holding his hand out to her his response was simple. “Yes.” Pulling her up, he let go of her hand and turn to walk back to the barracks.

When they entered the building, she turned towards him, stopping him with a warm hand placed on his arm. He looked at her, surprisingly disappointed, thinking she had changed her mind. She stunned him with her next words.

“We should go to my room.” His brow furrowed in confusion, so she elaborated. “That way you wouldn’t have to deal with any...memories of me in your room.”

Understanding flooded his system and he was humbled by her request. Rationally, she knew that he stood a better chance of returning from Shiganshina. Y/N was trying to insure he wasn’t haunted by her presence in his bed. Nodding quietly, he followed her as she turned down a different hallway than his own. She stopped at her door and opened it, throwing over her shoulder as she stepped inside. “I made sure I cleaned.”

Stepping inside the room, Levi felt a nervousness that was foreign to him. He had no experience to draw on. Unsure of what to do, he waited for her to direct him. “Um....If you want to get undressed, I’m going to wash up really quickly” Y/N offered as she slipped past him into the small en-suite.

Disrobing quickly, he laid his folded clothes on a chair and stood beside her bed. He noticed that she had put fresh sheets on the bed, indicating this truly wasn’t a drunken whim.

He turned towards the sound of the opening door as she re-emerged, stopping short as she saw him. Her blush filled her entire face as she drank in his frame. He suddenly wondered if he should have been under the covers when she came back in. Cursing his inexperience, he pulled back the sheets and slipped into her bed, watching her as she crossed the room.

If she had been attracted to him clothed, she wasn’t disappointed by his nude form. Y/N had almost gasped at how well built the shorter man was. All hard muscle and sinew, he embodied pure male testosterone. His manhood, even soft, was an impressive display. She was almost afraid to see how he would look aroused.

Stopping near the chair he had placed his clothes, she reached up to remove her own shirt. His eyes narrowed as he watched her, an arm coming up to fold behind his head. Her shoes came next, and then she slowly unfastened the skirt she had worn, letting it fall to the floor. She felt hot as he gaze roamed over every inch of her skin. The bindings she wore on her breasts came next, a soft sigh escaping her in relief. Her nipples puckered in the cool air and a fascinatingly hungry expression crossed Levi’s face. Sliding the panties down her hips and thighs, she bends over to pick up her clothes when his words wash over her. “Leave them. Come here Y/N.”

He moves over to make room for her as she slides under the covers with him. This was her first time being in a bed with a man. Her nerves were starting to fray, and breathing rapidly increasing as she wondered if she had asked too much. She felt his hand gently grasp her’s and pull her into laying on her side, facing him. His hand stopped at his chest and left hers resting there. Her erratic breathing matching the beat of his heart, fast and unsteady. They were both equally nervous. That thought gave her confidence as her fingertips slid over his warm skin. He shivered slightly and his breath caught as she traced the ridges of his stomach. He exhaled loudly causing her to smile as her hand dipped lower.

It was her turn to gasp as her hand brushed his erection. Not expecting that contact so soon, she pulled her hand away as if burned. A strangled laugh came from Levi, causing her to glance up at him watching her.

“It’s different.” She offered. “It wasn’t....”She stopped talking as he took her hand and put it back, right above him.

Hesitantly, she felt the tip of his length with her fingers, feeling him jump against her touch. She giggled and ran her hand down the shaft. His groan worried her, think she had hurt him, but his eyes were closed and his jaw clenched when she looked at him again.

She was right, he was frighteningly large when aroused. It gave her a rush of power and pleasure to know that she had brought him to that state. Moving her hand against him again, she gripped him, wrapping her fingers around his girth, eliciting a louder moan from him. A small push of his hips signaled what he needed in that moment, and she complied.

She felt his tentative hands start to wander over her skin as she stroked him. His touch was gentle, almost reverent as he mapped her body. His mouth covered hers in an electrifying kiss. She tasted of mint, him of the ale he had consumed. Their tongues mated slowly as they explored each other. His hands paused at every location that elicited a sigh or gasp from her, delicately replicating the movement as if testing it was pleasure or pain that brought that reaction. Eventually his caresses grew bolder as he learned and tapped into an instinctive need to pleasure his partner.

Ready for more, she shifted underneath him, opening up as he settled between her thighs. The weight on top of her felt right as he slid his hands under her back and ass, positioning her body to accept him. The first thrust was an artless mess of limbs and need. Stilling, he clenched his jaw in determination to stop himself from immediately spilling like a wet-behind-the-ears boy. The tight heat surrounding him made it difficult to wait for her, and he was relieved when she arched up against him. Slowly finding the perfect pace they descended together into a pleasurable abyss. Nothing existed but that moment and the two of them. At the peak of release, both are surprised at the intensity and the beauty of watching the other come apart.

After washing up, Levi was surprised he didn’t feel the need to return to his quarters. Coming back to Y/N’s bed, he waited for her to finish her toilette and pulls her into his arms again. Soft kisses and gentle caresses was all that was needed. No words pass between them as they slip off into a dreamless sleep as the first rays of light break across the horizon.

~~~~~

The blast over Shiganshina worried Levi. Hange and his squad sprang into his mind as he wondered about their safety while standing on the other side of the wall. A fleeting picture of Y/N in bed beside him came to the forefront of his mind as he turned his attention back to the Beast Titan.

The morning after wasn’t awkward like Levi had feared it would be. He had been woken up in a way that he thought was a gift from the Gods. Her hot mouth had been on him with her hand wrapped around his shaft as he had opened his eyes. When he was almost about to explode, he had flipped her over and slide into her easily. Their mutual orgasm was just as good as the night before, leaving them both breathless. Y/N had kissed Levi goodbye as he dressed, but there were no tears nor sad smiles. He had pulled her close and told her to be careful as he walked to the door.

When the squad had assembled for the ride to the lifts, Y/N had treated him with the same respect she had always bestowed upon him. She hadn’t sought him out during their nighttime trek through the forest, opting to stay in her assigned position in the formation.

As he began the run towards the Beast Titan, Erwin and the rest of the soldiers distracting him with a suicide charge, Levi wonders if perhaps it will be Y/N that survives today. Or if that one night will be the best memory they both hold before they give their lives for humanity.

~~~~~

Y/N stood on the rooftop, her eyes filled with sorrow as she held a nearly hysterical Eren back from Levi. She understood both of the arguments for saving Erwin and Armin, and couldn’t fathom having to be in that situation. When she had shown up with Hanji and pulled Mikasa off of Levi, his shout of relief at seeing both of them had given her a moments pause. Concern for Hanji, she understood. They had been comrades and friends for years. But he had shown the same emotion for her. Did that mean something? Listening to Hanji’s monologue, she saw her own fallen comrades in her mind’s eye. When she carried Eren away from the four people on the roof, she was overcome with the emotion of the day.

She volunteered to sit with the Commander’s body as Levi and Hanji found a place to lay him to rest. He deserved so much more than an abandoned house as a coffin, but so did all those laying on the field outside the gates. The devastating total of losses was overwhelming. Ten people had survived a campaign that was two hundred strong at the onset.

Leaving the two to pay their final respects to their friend, Y/N made her way to the wall where Sasha and Armin were recovering. Watching Floch, Connie and Jean look for any survivors among the mangled bodies on the field below, she silently wondered if the information they might learn in that basement was worth the price.

She didn’t know how much time has passed when she felt someone sit down beside her. Turning her head, she saw Levi looking out over the battlefield, his downtrodden expression speaking to his own thoughts on the outcome. Long minutes passed before he turned and met her compassionate face. He hesitantly reaches for her hand, his fingers gently intertwining with hers as he turned his head to look forward again.

“I’m glad you’re alive. I didn’t know what to expect when the explosion.....” He stumbled over the words, trying hard communicate things he normally never expressed.

“We were lucky. All of us.” She tightened her grip on his hand, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin, proof he was still alive.

“Y/N, I want another night with you. I want as many as you’ll give me.” Levi looked at her again, his grey eyes filled with weariness and loss but also hope.

Y/N smiled at her handsome Captain as she laid her head against his shoulder. “You can have all my nights, Levi.”

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idlecreature · 4 years

Text

it’s a delicate business, and you know just how to charge me

Jonah doesn’t write.

Winter lasts an entire year.

Vampire!Mordechai for Jonah Magnus Week! Part 1/Part 2/Part 3

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Mordechai Lukas/Barnabas Bennett, Jonah Magnus/Barnabas Bennett

Content warnings: Dubcon, Unhealthy relationships, manipulation (hence the dubcon warning), The Lonely, death of an OC, choking (both sexy and unsexy)

—there is still so much to tell you. I tell you first in my mind and then the effort of writing is too much for me—

The thick, wet cough that drove Barnabas out of Moorland house finally lifts in the night, and Barnabas breathes a little easier. He wriggles as he anticipates leaving his sickbed, but does his level best to enjoy a quiet Sunday morning wrapped in a heavy duvet with the Kempthorne’s dog eating bacon rinds out of the palm of his hand.

Eleanor Kempthorne primly raps on his door. She balances a sleepy Sampson and a tray piled high with papers over her heavily pregnant belly. “Morning,” she says. “I’ve got your news and your letters - tell your friends to go easy or they’ll exhaust all the postmen in London.”

“Still catching up after my vacation in Kent,” Barnabas says, taking the tray from her with an appreciative murmur.

“I’m glad you finally took that vacation, Barny.” Eleanor moves over and sets Sampson down on the bed. The child immediately burrows under the covers and latches onto Barnabas’s side. “The countryside in Kent can be beautiful - shame you went in the dead of winter, with that bad snowstorm! Seven feet of snow, I heard!”

“Y-yes, that was unfortunate,” Barnabas says. He recalls little but pale days, ice crystals suspended in the air, grasses bleached of all colour, winter roses, and after Mordechai returned barely scraps of anything but the furniture of Moorland as Mordechai took him against every chair and every table.

Eleanor flops on the bed next to him, frowning as she presses the flat of her palm against his flushed cheek. “You seem brighter today, but you still have a fever.”

“O - oh, I think I should be well enough to leave soon. I hate to be a burden.”

She shifts on her side to face him. “There’s no rush, Barny. Would you like to read your mail while I read the Bible?” Her smile dimples. “I’ll make it a silent service.”

“That’d be appreciated,” Barnabas mutters. They fall into an easy silence as Eleanor opens her Bible and follows her Reverend husband’s elegant cursive and Barnabas does his reading and little Sampson drools on his arm and the dog gnaws on a pillow’s tasselled edge.

There’s no letter from Jonah. Jonah’s always the first to forgive, and quick to forgive; Barnabas is unsure what to make of his silence, but it fills him with unease.

“Barny,” Eleanor says, sifting a hand through Sampson’s hair. “John and I have been thinking about ways we could make you a part of the family - and how do you feel about becoming a godfather to Sampson and the new baby?”

“Godfather?” Barnabas echoes. “I -”

Eleanor inhales sharply and before Barnabas can flinch away she grabs his hand and holds it against her belly.

“Do you feel that?”

Barnabas’s eyes slip closed, and yes, he feels the rhythmic movement, and deeper, as a body waiting to be born shifts like the turn of the earth. Barnabas can feel the baby’s impatience.

He removes his hand, trying to twist in the bed between the dog across his legs and the five-year-old pinioning his arm. “I don't - I don’t think you want me as part of your family - as an influence over your children. I’m - I’m an atheist.”

Eleanor studies him, eyes dark and solemn, but not shocked or frightened. “Ah,” she says. “I did suspect. And you know I love you regardless?” Her roaming hand moves from Sampson’s crown to Barnabas’s neck, her fingertips catching across the newly knotting scar. “What’s this mark, Barnabas? It looks like -”

He slaps a hand over his neck. “Nothing,” he says. He starts coughing emphatically into his elbow, and the scar is forgotten as Eleanor fusses over him and gets up again to fetch him a fresh pitcher of water, lifting sleeping Sampson up and away, the dog following close on her heels, and abruptly, he is alone.

Little Sampson jerks at Barnabas’s arm like a waterspout as they watch Sampson’s mother being put into the ground.

Barnabas’s body aches with a disquiet pressure that rings like a struck bell through his ribcage and his teeth and all the small bones of his hands. He feels newly aware of each shift of bone under the crushing weight of his flesh.

He remains stoic. For the little boy’s sake.

It’s still the choke of winter, and there are debts to be paid.

Barnabas decides he doesn’t care where Mordechai gets his money. He just wants it. It’s horribly unsentimental of him, but perhaps Jonah was right, and Barnabas’s morals are just gilt-wrapped-guilt, and his goodwill means nothing. It’s the banal truth that the whole of Barnabas’s life is founded on money. The world turns on it. As long as you have enough, you will always be accepted, and you will never be missed.

Barnabas is someone who has always enjoyed the pleasure of a transaction. And if the particulars involve him standing in a mirrored hallway with a monster opening a vein in his neck, then, well.

There are many mouths to feed.

—though it was radiant, crystal-clear, one of those days when the earth just pauses, enchanted by its own beauty, and every new bud whispers: “am I not heavenly fair!” it curls up in your belly, the beauty of life! In spite of everything, one cannot but praise life.—

Whenever Mordechai’s in Edinburgh, they meet in somebody’s garden. Someone’s put a lot of effort into making it a nice garden, into a picture of domesticity, with an apple tree and a lemon tree, marigolds and hydrangeas, and red lilies in terracotta pots. It would be a lovely place to spend an afternoon with a loved one.

Barnabas considers the springtime flowers. They’re nice. Their perfume disguises the heavy tang of blood that always hangs around Mordechai, and that’s also nice.

“We should get some flowers for Moorland,” Barnabas says, mostly to keep up their one-sided conversation. “Different ones, I mean. Reds and pinks and oranges to liven up the place a bit. And maybe a fruiting tree.”

Mordechai forgoes a vocal response as per usual, optioning for a shrug that falls like gravity.

“It could do with a bit of colour,” Barnabas says, trying to goad him into saying something because he’s spent their precious passing afternoon in utter silence and it’s starting to get on Barnabas’s nerves. Barnabas nudges his knee against Mordechai’s thigh.

“I’m colourblind,” Mordechai says eventually. He’s still looking away, squaring his jaw. “All the men in my family are.”

“And you’re... proud... of that pedigree?”

“No.”

Barnabas sighs, following Mordechai’s dour gaze to the patch of violets. Barnabas knows the flower meanings - he memorised a book of them as a child - but he refuses to think about them. He makes no insistence on prescribed symbolism, only the shapes and the colours that the eye takes and the heart interprets.

“What does purple look like, to you?”

“I can’t tell you,” Mordechai says. And Barnabas understands that.

“What colours can you see, then?”

Barnabas places a hand on Mordechai’s back, where a doctor might listen to the auscultations of his heart, and massages the bands of hard muscle over his skin at the place where he is not quite human.

“Blue,” Mordechai says, leaning into his touch. “There is a shade of blue that I find haunts me lately.” And Mordechai presses his gloved hand to the corner of Barnabas’s eye.

His skeleton stings, hisses, and pain lances down his bones. Barnabas gasps and Mordechai pulls his hand back as if bitten. He looks at Barnabas in open shock. “Did I hurt you?”

“You - you gave me a fright,” Barnabas says. His heart beats quickly in his chest, and his bones still fizz and tingle. “That’s all.”

Mordechai keeps looking at him, and Barnabas worries he’s lapsing back into that dreadful apathetic silence. But Mordechai breathes in, and his gaze collects some focus. He looks at Barnabas properly, then. Deeply. Then he says, “Do you think you could ever love me?”

“I - “ Barnabas says. He wants to bleed into the flowers, into the afternoon. He feels the silver scars under his cravat, their coldness, their weight, like a collar. “Not in this lifetime, I think,” he says, waiting for a flare of embarrassment that doesn’t come. He doesn’t think he’s capable of hurting Mordechai’s feelings.

“Then put your hands around my throat.”

“...”

“Go on.”

Barnabas wraps his fingers around the vertebrae, thumbs touching together on the soft, thin skin over Mordechai’s windpipe, where the ugly gash of a surgical scar bites into his adam’s apple.

“How does that feel?” Mordechai asks.

Mordechai feels cold and dead under his hand, wax-skinned and corpse-damp. There is no thrum of life, no beating vessels that run like roots under his flesh. Barnabas feels like he’s close to learning something about violence and desire, how close they are, how the wires can get crossed. He squeezes Mordechai’s throat, just enough for the vampire to feel the promise of stolen breath.

“Let me make you immortal,” Mordechai says. And he swallows; Barnabas feels the rolling constriction of his throat. “Please, Barnabas,” he whispers.

Barnabas drops his hand to his side. “No.”

Mordechai looks at him furiously, stonily, unrelentingly, but he makes such a small choked-back noise as he wraps Barnabas up in an embrace that offers him little comfort. Barnabas buries his face in Mordechai’s hair, inhaling the scent of blood and frost. It’s Mordechai’s wordless way of showing Barnabas that he means more to him than life.

Mordechai moves in him so slowly, so deliberately, but he’ll still bruise. They take their pleasure from the ransoming of Mordechai’s self-restraint. When he comes, his teeth graze Barnabas’s pulse like a promise, but his jaw does not close. He waits on Barnabas’s word.

When he receives silence, he is not disappointed. He pulls the blankets up over Barnabas’s shoulders and ducks his head so they’re sharing breaths and Mordechai closes his eyes and feigns sleep, but when Barnabas wakes up, several hours later, Mordechai has dropped the pretence of humanity and lies there, sharp and cold, with his fingers ghosting over the shape of Barnabas under the duvet, trembling like fish’s gills desperately working out of the water and it’s a race to see what kills it first, the choke of no oxygen or the drown of its own blood.

“You look pale tonight, Mr. Bennett,” Mrs. Blackwood says. Another Christmas with the Blackwood family, the same faded paper decorations and the sewing hanging limply from lines across the low ceiling. There’s a new smell, polish and boot leather, brought home by the eldest child’s apprenticeship to a shoemaker.

“I’m fine, thank you,” Barnabas says as he sips his sherry. He’s sitting in the best seat in the house, right up against the stove, and it’s stifling him, prickling over his skin and wetting his armpits. He doesn’t dare loosen his cravat, though, the starchy collar scratching uncomfortably at the new necklace of barely-closed wounds.

“We’ll get some colour back in the boy’s cheeks right enough,” Mr. Blackwood says fondly. It’s exactly the kind of thing Barnabas might have wanted his own father to say, once, but now it just sounds gauche. He doesn’t want that anymore, not any part of it.

Barnabas hands his presents to the children: polished toy horses with delicate pink lips and real, curling eyelashes. He barely remembers buying them.

“And we have a Christmas present for you, Mr. Bennett,” Mrs. Blackwood says when her children have stopped crowing and hold their toys against the candle-light so tongues of orange flick over polished white bodies.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary -”

“I must insist,” Mrs. Blackwood says. “Annie knitted it special for you, and she’d be upset something awful if you don’t want it.”

The girl in question blushingly presents her creation. It’s bright red and clumsily knitted, the cabling loose and uneven, but the wool is soft and warm, and it’s the thought that counts. The thought of any one of the hardworking Blackwoods spending any time or money on him -

“Don’t worry about the cost, sweetheart,” Mrs. Blackwood says. “It came out of our James’s Christmas bonus. He’s made a lot of shoes this month, hasn’t he! He’s moving up in the world, and we’re so proud of him, and that’s because of you, Mr. Bennett!”

As she speaks, Mrs. Blackwood takes the scarf and wraps it around Barnabas’s neck. It’s long enough to go around several times. It makes the heat worse, the sweat slicker, pouring out of the reservoir of his body like a spring.

“Thank you, Mr. Bennett,” the James in question says dutifully.

“Mr. Bennett?” Isabel says in alarm.

And, oh, good lord, he’s sobbing. He’s sobbing in front of people he needs to respect him, to see him as a Gentleman, and it’s great, whooping gasps that escape him like a crack in a pressure valve, and it’s all he can do but hastily bid goodbye and push away Isabel’s arm and flee that unbearable heat, the den-like house and the cured-leather and the sweet smell of rum pudding and bodies in close habitation and he stumbles into the winter night and the clarity of the cold, and it’s there, after a few minutes to himself, he realises that he doesn’t want to wear any colours that Mordechai can’t properly see.

Barnabas speeds down Morningside Road, the buildings all endlessly long and featureless dark grey, avoiding every stranger he passes on the street until he comes across a homeless man half-frozen to the pavement under the awning of a business, a newspaper over his face barely stirring with his breath. Barnabas claws off the choking, luridly red scarf and winds it around the man’s neck, tucks the man’s coat around him a little tighter, and pulls off his own gloves and gives them to the man for good measure. The man doesn’t stir.

Barnabas breathes again after that.

—you know M. Everything is give and take with him. When he is away I miss his companionship. I miss talking with the man but when he’s in London or at the garden we can only agree when we are silent or out of each others sight!!! I miss him. I miss you. I hope you can forgive me, Jonah, my foibles and my rash words and my shame. I take it all back. I lie down at your feet and anticipate your heavy tread.—

The sixth time Barnabas arrives at the doorstep of Moorland house to repay a debt, Mordechai is waiting for him. It’s enough of a break in their usual routine that Barnabas approaches cautiously, curiously.

Mordechai offers him a compromise in the form of a small silver ring. It’s a sign of Barnabas’s naivety that he thinks Mordechai is proposing, and he laughs in Mordechai’s face. Mordechai flashes his teeth at him and tells him what it really is: a dressing ring in the fashion of Beau Brummell, a man whom Barnabas has always thought himself as being diametrically opposed to in every regard.

Later, Barnabas takes great pleasure in feeding the ring to Mordechai, watching the glint of metal as it is swallowed, the shiver of it against his prick as Mordechai tugs it gently with his tongue. Barnabas is not as gentle with Mordechai as Mordechai is with him; he likes it when Mordechai chokes, fisting his hand in Mordechai’s pretty curls so he can’t pull his head away, wetting his cheeks and chin with saliva. Barnabas feels the curved piercing bite into the back of Mordechai’s throat, and the catch and pull of his skin must feel like torture. But when Barnabas has found his completion he barely strokes Mordechai before he spills across Barnabas’s hand.

Jonah is always the first to reach out, to reconcile. It’s coming up to a year since they ended that evening with a fight, and Barnabas is starting to believe that after the flames of anger died away, Jonah found that he simply didn't care for Barnabas’s company any more. Barnabas wouldn’t blame him, but it still hurts to lose him. He still sits at his writing desk a little after Christmas and writes a letter with no expectations of a reply, and that, more than anything, makes the yawning pit inside him stretch a little wider.

—anticipate your tread. I think sitting in that garden has made me a very lonely man. There’s something to be said about watching life unfold and feeling completely separate from it. But I must end this letter on a better note: they say in April the snows will have melted and even before it is all quite gone the flowers will begin to rise again...

Please, Jonah, can we be friends again?

Your loyal servant,

Barnabas Bennett.

The cheque comes in the mail, and it is a staggering sum. Enough for Barnabas to set up a proper office, hire a second staff member, open space for another family.

Barnabas wonders what Mordechai will ask of him in return; a sum such as this is a poorly-concealed threat. He could always rip up the cheque. That’s a choice Barnabas could make.

But Barnabas is certain that this is more than what Mordechai can decently afford, he just doesn’t know whether Mordechai knows that. Mordechai is not a fastidious accountant like Barnabas; he spends his money like he has it in infinite supply, hasn’t noticed Barnabas draining him at all, and Barnabas would very much like to continue with the arrangement until he has taken everything from Mordechai, keeping nothing for himself, of course; he wants to drive Mordechai Lukas into the quagmire of desperate poverty as much, and perhaps even more than, he wants to pull families like the Blackwoods out of it, and he doesn’t think he has the willpower to stop himself until he has Mordechai, Moorland house, and the entire Lukas estate crushed into the ground like pale, bloodless worms. He thinks he could love Mordechai, then.

Barnabas’s bones sing softly under his skin as he waits for the cheque to clear.

#[barnabas voice] women want me fish fear me #the magnus archives #barnabas bennett #mordechai lukas #jonah magnus #edit: ONCE AGAIN MISSPELLING JONAHS NAME ON MY BLOG

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justalittlelitnerd · 4 years

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Caraval Series by Stephanie Garber

*Photo courtesy of Pinterest

Books: Caraval (2017), Legendary (2018), and Finale (2019) all published by Flatiron Books

This trilogy filled the hole that Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom left in my heart. I could summarize the plot like I normally do, but honestly it wouldn’t do this series justice. The biggest appeal of this series isn’t just that it’s a great fantasy with great characters or that it only gets better with each book, it’s the writing. Stephanie Garber has a way with words and description that is lyrical and enchanting and lends itself completely to the fantastical aspect of the story. If you like flawed characters, constant twists and turns, and a nice dose of romance, then I highly recommend checking out this series.

Keep reading for my favorite (mostly non-spoiler) quotes from each book!

Caraval Quotes:

She remembered her first impression of him, tall, roughly handsome, and dangerous, like poison dressed up in an attractive bottle.

And even though she would never tell him, she loved the way he moved, with total confidence, as though nothing in the world could harm him. It made her less fearful when she was around him. As if boldness and bravery did not always end in defeat.

Sometimes he gazed at her as if he wanted to be her undoing, but just then it was as if he wanted her to undo him.

Not quite sure how far she’d already fallen, she imagined loving him would feel like falling in love with darkness, frightening and consuming yet utterly beautiful when the stars came out.

His steady gaze was even softer than his voice. It reached out to the broken parts of her like a caress. The type of touch that moves through damaged flesh, past fractured bones and into a person’s wounded soul.

She remembered thinking falling for him would be like falling in love with darkness, but now she imagined he was more like a starry night: the constellations were always there, constant, magnificent guides against the ever-present black.

When she’d kissed Julian, it had felt right. Two people choosing to give tiny vulnerable parts of themselves to each other. That’s what Scarlett wanted. That’s what she deserved. No one else had the right to decide this for her. Yes, her father had always treated her like a possession, but she was not a thing to be bought or sold.

Legendary Quotes:

But she was too young for endings. Her adventures were only beginning. They would be bigger than promises, and brighter than constellations. By the end of them, Tella would be the legendary one.

Tella had kissed enough young men to know that anything said by a boy right before or directly after she kissed him could not be believed at all.

Tella wasn’t usually anxious. She liked the thrill that came with taking risks. She loved the feeling of doing something bold enough to make her future hold its breath while she closed her eyes and reveled in the sensation that she’d made a choice with the power to alter the course of her life. It was the closest she ever came to holding real power.

He looked like a freshly woken storm, or a beautiful nightmare come to life so he could personally haunt her.

“I’m just wondering if you’ll think differently of me after this.” Then his mouth was crashing against hers. He tasted like exquisite nightmares and stolen dreams, like the wings of fallen angels and bottles of fresh moonlight. It was the sort of kiss she could have lived in. The sort of kiss worth dying for.

Scarlett was Tella’s person—the one someone in the world whom Tella could always count on. Tella might not have believed in falling in love, but she had literally bet her life that Scarlett loved her. Tella would destroy the world before she allowed anything to happen to her sister.

Unfortunately Tella wasn’t the sort of girl people saved—she was the one they left behind. But she was also the sort they underestimated.

Legend was someone she could never have. He was like a moment in time; he could be experienced but never held on to.

She’d underestimated Love in the past. She’d imagined the romantic sort to be a stronger type of lust—but this moment had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with caring more about saving Dante and her mother than saving herself. It made her fearless in a way she’d never been.

Finale Quotes:

He smelled of magic and heartbreak, and something about the combination made her think that despite what he claimed, he wanted to be her hero. Or maybe he just wanted her to continue to want him. - Tella

He looked the way she would have imagined a vigilante who had a secret identity as a gentleman botanist. - Scarlett

Legend possessed a fallen angel’s beauty that commanded attention. He was tailored suits over inked tattoos, and lies that people wanted to believe. His palace would be breathtaking in the way that only powerful things could be.

“But I don’t want to feel differently. I want to feel love in its every form. I used to be so scared of it, but now I think love is another type of magic. It makes everything brighter, it makes people who have it stronger, it breaks rules that aren’t supposed to exist, it’s infinitely valuable. I can’t imagine my life without it. And if you felt any love in your heart, you would understand.” - Tella

She wished there was a way to tether her heart to his, so that even when they were apart they would still be attached. There were things in this world to be truly afraid of, but loving Julian was not one of them. - Scarlett

She was beyond pretending that the sight of him didn’t steal her breath. He looked like a wish that had just woken up. His eyes were full of stars, his bronze skin was faintly glowing, and his dark hair was a little mussed. He didn’t wear a cravat at his throat, and the top buttons of his black shirt were undone, as if he’d been in a rush to leave—to get to her. - Tella

He didn’t kiss her as if he’d simply just come back to life. He kissed her as if he’d died, been buried, and clawed his way out of the grave and through the dirt just to get to her. - Tella

Tella imagined wanting someone without loving them was like an endless hunger—even if you managed to hold the person you wanted in your grasp it would never be enough, and letting them go would be even worse.

#caraval #stephanie garber #legendary #finale #tella #scarlett #legend #dante #caraval series #fantasy #young adult #lyrical language #quotes #books #book quotes #book blog #booklr

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magistralucis · 4 years

Note

lib sebinsky, and 36 or 45 👀💖

45: “You look amazing tonight.”

———————-

You look amazing tonight… let me cut you a bouquet.

This one’s from Thibaut, his voice soft with awe. Vincent takes note of him in his black coat and cravat, fresh-cut bleuets in his pale hands, a symbol of global peace to mask his personal affections.

There aren’t enough words of praise…

From Pedro, filled with admiration as he sits at the furthest end of the table. No one hears him, but he has the misfortune to be directly beside Vincent, who looks down at the tablecloth and takes note once more.

He is so beautiful I think it will hurt him.

Now what’s this? Could it be an accurate judgement of character? From David, out of all people? - Unthinkable, yet there it is. Even more remarkable is the fact that David barely knew Sebastian for two months before making this judgement, whilst Thibaut and Pedro (and Vincent himself) have had a full season to acclimatize. They are the men who live in dreams. David, to his credit or detriment, does not. And Vincent will let this haunt him until he realizes several years down the line that he just bluntly, honestly, absolutely fucking hates David.

But he doesn’t know that yet. All he knows is the ache, the longing, the competition.

He feels horrible whenever he puts it like that. But a competition really is what it’s turning out to be, and as the months go by, Vincent becomes aware that other people also see it that way. So many friends are enamoured with his guest; it’s not all about romantic intent, but Vincent won’t understand that until after Sebastian has chosen him. Some seek out Sebastian for knowledge, some seek his friendship, and some are compelled to help him. Why, in at least one case, Sebastian has inspired a change in spiritual opinion:

…

Yes, like that! Vincent has known no silence heavier than the one Gaspard kept last Christmas, when Sebastian’s beauty was exulted above that of God - and Gaspard made as if to speak, paused, then turned away without protest. What’s one man meant to do with a situation like this? Here is Vincent, by definitions an ordinary man; there is his guest, a youth so unearthly beautiful that not even a servant of God can debate it. So many people want Sebastian’s love and there’s only one of him to go around. How can he not perceive this as a competition, and - fundamentally - how can he not compare himself to others, knowing so well just how much he lacks? All around him are familiar faces, now twisted into fierce competitors, overwhelming in their adoration: How beautiful you are, Sebastian, there is no one in the world quite as beautiful, be mine!

Yes, he will admit it, he is a jealous man! - The thought of Sebastian’s departure strikes Vincent as a loss, his departure for a different hearth a surrender, and Vincent wasn’t raised a quitter. By day he tries hard, as does all their friends, gifting Sebastian all the warmth and stability he has to give. It’s his luck this turns out to be what Sebastian needs the most; when Sebastian finally chooses him as his own, Vincent will be afflicted with a sense of superiority over their friends that he will never quite lose until his dying day.

Yet at night the fear sets in. Not every night, but enough nights to keep him awake and afraid. Just about everything Vincent dislikes about himself comes flooding back then, all his wasted time and regrets and mistakes; he is not so much afraid Sebastian will discover them, more so that Sebastian might become one of them, because he can’t see any way out of that. Part of him is always wary that one day he will reach too high (beauty beyond God - of humanity - of morality - of the good!) and his hands will burn, and that he will sink, and perish in the ice-cold sea as Sebastian indifferently looks on.

And the worst thing is: Vincent would still do it all over again. To not do so would have meant to walk away that wintry evening, leaving a traumatized Sebastian to freeze to death on that bench, never to encounter one another again.

His greatest kindness gave birth to his doom.

#mintcraft #drabble #sebinsky #fanfiction #tl;dr vinco was always somewhat like. well. Like That. even in the pre-rev era #just that life used to be normal back then and his anxieties and jealousy simply couldn't scale to what it is now #also he kept that entirely to himself before him and sebastian were official so it really could have just been a personal angst #sadly the future refused to change #what else can i put in tags...#you'll see every incident mentioned here re: sebastian's beauty later on in season 4 #especially the gaspard one. that was a big 😨 moment for xavier right there and the beginning of friendly despair #a 'bleuet' is a blue cornflower - in france it's the remembrance day flower in the same way poppies are in the uk #it's worn on the 11th nov and 8th may for the end of both world wars #i think that's about it #i hope this is helpful clover. gotta love some captain worldbuilding

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jellidile · 5 years

Text

Welcome Home (Barris Fic)

I would say this is a short fic, but let's be honest, there’s no such thing around these parts, Enjoy!

“Do you have to leave?” Barris sighed closing his case. Looking to Magda she saw his own displeasure,

“I’m afraid I do. It’s only three days Magda. Anything longer then a week and I’ll come straight home.” Magda sighed as her husband came over and hugged her. Loosely she held his waist, as Barris gently pecked her forehead. They had only recently been married, yet Magda felt as though she never spent enough time with Barris. She whined as Barris went back to his case, picking it up, cementing his leaving,

“Now, come on love. I’ll be back soon and we can spend as much time together as we’d like. Doing whatever, we’d like.” Barris purred the last part tracing Magda’s cheek and stealing a final kiss. Magda was speechless, as she blushed thinking about what he had implied. She still wasn’t used to Barris’ more casual personality. But as she followed him to the main door, she couldn’t help but smile. Truly he was an exceptional man. There wasn’t anything about him she didn’t like. Even some of his bad habits were cute. Speaking of which,

“Barris, try to get some sleep. You don’t need to work all night.” Barris’ cheeks were dusted with pink,

“You know me too well love.” His luggage packed onto the carriage and then himself, he waved goodbye and the carriage departed. Loneliness shuffled its way into Magda’s heart. It would only be three days, but then again, it was three days. Sighing she headed back into the manor and towards the ballroom. The piano sat sleek and pristine in the corner. Magda decided to play.

Though she was no master she could play a few simple pieces and today she’d opted for a more haunting piece. She’d heard it a long time ago, and only now was she only decent at the piece. Each note hung after Magda had played it, and she was so enchanted by the song once more that when she finished the applause she heard startled her. Whipping around Magda saw Juven smiling across the room. Barbara peeked out from behind him as Asteria stood serenely wiping a single tear,

“Well done Auntie. You’ve really gotten better.” Magda sighed,

“Juven you don’t have to call me that.” Barbara came over and laughed,

“Really Aunt Magda, you’re already this sad? Uncle has only been gone for a half hour.” Magda sputtered,

“I’m not playing it because I’m sad! I just like it is all!” Juven nodded placing his hands on her shoulders,

“Of course Auntie, we understand. Uncle does mean a lot to you, you don’t need to hide from us.” Magda shook her head, beginning another piece, this one much happier. Much to the delight of Juven and Barbara. As Magda played she heard Juven and Barbara laughing, even the occasional chuckle from Asteria as they all danced. Magda chuckled, she felt like a mother. Maybe she would speak to Barris about that when he got back. For now she enjoyed entertaining her family.

The second day of Barris’ trip Magda went to visit her mother. Although Barris and Magda herself had offered many times, Ms. Ellenstein refused to move in. Instead, she grew to love the house given to her by the patron (Magda still had no idea who they were). Knocking on the door, her mother’s faithful maid came to the door. Happily, she curtsied to Magda,

“Your mother is in the dining room m’lady.” Magda gave her thanks. Wandering through familiar halls to her mother. It was refreshing to see her once again, even though not much time passed between their visits with each other,

“Hello, Mother. How are you?” her mother was overjoyed,

“Magda my child, how are you? Does your husband treat you well? What’s it like being married, I wouldn’t know.” Magda was just glad to see her mother in such good health,

“I’m fine mother. Treated like a princess.” Her mother smiled,

“Well, that’s nice. What brought about this visit? Where’s that Barris? He loves visiting me doesn’t he?” Magda huffed as her mother giggled,

“He’s away on business. I miss him terribly so, but I’m seeing you so all’s well.” her mother shook her head and clicked her tongue,

“That good-for-nothing Sakan. Can’t even spend time with his wife. Has he at least sent word?” Magda sighed,

“Yes, mother. He arrived safely. You do know he spends plenty of time with me, right?” Ms. Ellenstein shot her daughter a knowing look,

“But you want more time with him correct?” Magda hummed,

“I do.” both women laughed before Magda was brought very close to her mothers face,

“Magda sweet child, now that your awkward mess of a husband is gone might I ask when my grandchildren are arriving?” Magda blushed furiously,

“Mother! Goodness gracious! I- we haven’t even discussed- I mean-” her mother laughed before getting up to pat her daughter’s shoulder,

“I only kid Magda. You can wait to have children, but you do want children don’t you?” Magda smiled dreamily,

“I don’t see why not. It would be nice to start a family.” as her mother handed her a cup of tea Ms. Ellenstein smirked,

“I’m sure that Barris of your’s wouldn’t mind.”

“Mother!”

The third day of Barris’ trip Magda couldn’t wait. He would be arriving home that evening. For the day she’d planned a tea party with Nyx. So far the two girls had been talking about interesting art pieces, books and a variety of other interests. Nyx smiled looking at Magda’s ring,

“Magda where is Mr. Barris? I haven’t seen him at any balls, or with you. Is he alright?” Magda smiled,

“He’s away on business, but he comes home tonight. I can’t wait to see him!” Nyx smiled brightly,

“I still can’t believe you married him! It’s like a match made in heaven Magda!” Magda nodded, she couldn’t believe it either. However, as the girls were talking heavy footsteps silenced them. Behind Nyx stood Grand Duke Bavlenka. Gently he pat his daughters head. Magda didn’t make eye contact. The low voice of the duke rang throughout the room,

“Ellenstein?” Magda shook her head,

“No Grand Duke-”

“What do you mean, no?” Nyx spoke up,

“Miss Magda got married father.” the Grand Duke growled,

“What name?” Magda spoke up

“I-I’m a Sakan now Grand Duke.” Grand Duke Bavlenka glared down at Magda. If only looks could kill,

“Which one.”

“Barris Sakan.”

“The law one?”

“Yes, Grand Duke.” Silence hung in the air. You could almost taste the tension. Before the Duke grumbled,

“I don’t mind that one. Perhaps you could teach that bratty Viscount some manners. Or raise some better Sakan’s.” Nyx beamed up at her father. He made some sort of grunt of approval before walking away. Nyx couldn’t contain her excitement,

“Oh, Magda! Did you see that! He tolerates you!” Magda shivered,

“That's him tolerating someone?” Nyx laughed,

“Magda you’re so funny. Although father does make a good point, are you going to have children with Mr. Barris?” Magda chuckled,

“Everyone seems to be asking that as of late.” Nyx smiled stirring her tea,

“Well not to offend you, but Mr. Barris is a very serious looking man. Me personally, I wouldn’t want to talk to him about that, he looks like he’d get mad.” Magda raised an eyebrow,

“Have you ever talked to Barris? He’s incredibly patient. Don’t tell him I told you, but he’s like a teddy bear, that’s one of the reason’s I adore him so.” Nyx blushed,

“Oh, I hope I find someone just wonderful, Magda. What time will Mr. Barris be coming home around anyways?” Magda smiled,

“Oh, sometime around 7.” Nyx glanced over to the grandfather clock,

“Magda, It’s almost 7.” Magda whipped around to see the clock,

“Oh gracious! Well, it was nice to talk to you Nyx, I must be going!” Nyx waved goodbye as Magda began her rush home.

She had gotten home just in time. Juven had tried to scold her but it was no avail. Magda was simply too excited to listen. She waited on a frontward facing balcony for the carriage. For Magda, seconds dragged on for hours. Minutes turned into years. Then she saw it, in the distance, she saw the carriage. Joy, excitement, impatience. Each emotion filled her from crown to toe. Finally, she would be able to see Barris again. She waited until the carriage got closer, then even more joy filled her soul. There, beside the driver, was Barris. She waved her arms to and fro. Happily, she watched Barris, first, double take what he was seeing, then excitedly wave back. Rushing downstairs Magda almost ran into Juven,

“He’s home!” skipping past him she heard him chuckle. As she got the main door she heard the jingle of the reins come to a stop. Letting the doors fly open she saw Barris had just gotten up the stairs. She jumped into his open arms, linking her own around his neck. He cuddled into her embrace,

“Hello, my love. I’ve missed you so.” Magda smiled giving Barris a kiss,

“I missed you too Barris. Welcome home.” Barris sighed, brushing a few stray locks of Magda’s hair from her face,

“I feel like I’m seeing you for the first time again. I’m speechless.” Magda giggled leaning her head on Barris’ chest. Juven, Barbara, and Asteria all slowly walked outside and gave their hello’s. After they left Barris grabbed his case, and thanked the driver. As he turned back to Magda she tugged him by the sleeve,

“Barris, would you, like to… have children?” Barris froze, a heavy blush covering his face,

“I- I hadn’t ever, thought about it. Do you, because-because, if you do, I don’t mind. I’d like that…” Magda smiled watching him fumble over his words. Grabbing him by the cravat she dragged him into the house with a devilish grin,

“How about we talk more inside. Alone.” Barris blushed more, as he chuckled. His voice strangled in surprise,

“Okay.”

#helix waltz barris #helix waltz #barris sakan #feel free to comment #I love comments #fanfic #otome game

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tetrakys · 5 years

Text

Trois Allumettes - Chapter 1

What if Lysander never attended Sweet Amoris and he and Candy met for the first time in college? Starts between Episode 3 and 4 and will rewrite each MCL UL episode with Lysander as the main route.

“Ugh! This tuna sandwich sucks!”

It was just another Tuesday afternoon. Rosa, Chani ed I were having lunch in the dining hall.

“We both know you are going to eat it anyway” I laughed.

“You know what, Candy?” Rosa said pensively while biting into her sandwich “You look really tired. Is everything okay?”

One of my friend’s most charming qualities, she never beats around the bush.

“Everything is f-fine.” I said yawning “Yesterday I stayed up late watching a horror movie.”

“Oooohhh which one?” asked Chani, eyes shining with interest.

“Just a crappy one about a haunted mansion I found on Netflix. It was really bad but I was hooked and had to know how it ended. It freaked me out though.”

“I know that one” said Chani “it isn’t scary at all.”

“Of course you would say that.”

“It really isn’t” she added passionately “haunted mansions are not scary, they are really fascinating, all that mystery and the amazing ancient architecture… you would know it if you came urbexing with me. Tonight I am going back to that amazing place I told you about.”

“Uhm… no thanks.”

“Also” she added “that movie is very inaccurate, ghosts are not evil. They are just lost.”

“I can see how being lost for a few hundred years could make anyone grumpy” I said smiling.

“Oh crap!” we both turned to see Rosa looking at her watch “The keys! Sorry girls I have to run, I’m so late. I have to meet with…” she stuffed two sandwiches in her mouth and mumbled something we couldn’t understand while running towards the door.

For a few moments we both stared silently at the door where she had just disappeared, then Chani turned in her chair and said “You know what would be really scary? Being late for Mr Lebarde’s class.”

We both rushed to finish our meal.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////

It was a cold windy night, I was coming back from the gym after one of my sporadic and exhausting work out sessions and, thanks to Kim’s drill sergeant ways, I was feeling sore everywhere. I couldn’t wait to have the shortest shower ever and jump into bed with a box of cookies, effectively nullifying all my hard work.

I was just about to open the dorm door when I heard a strange noise from the right side of the building. I looked around. Like any weekday night, the campus was basically desert. It had rained earlier that evening and a eerie mist surrounded the large open area. I really don’t like this… I thought. Last time I had heard a strange noise out there it was just Nath with a girl. Trying not to focus my thoughts on that scene, which was still quite upsetting, I headed back towards the door.

I heard it again. All of a sudden my conversation with Chani from the a few days ago came back to mind. Ghosts are not evil, they are just lost… No! Ghosts do not exist! I blamed my freakout on the stupid movie I had watched the other day, never again I was going to watch horror movies late at night.

To prove myself brave I headed towards the source of the noise, it seemed to originate from that little black door that lead to a basement at the back of the art department. With steady steps and led only by the moonlight, I made my way to the building. I was just about to grab the handle when I heard the noise again, louder than ever. The door suddenly opened with a bang and a tall dark shadow emerged on the doorway.

I ran to my room without looking back.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“OMG that’s just too funny!”

Sometimes Alexy could be really annoying.

“Quit it! I’m not joking, it was the scariest shit I’ve haver experienced.”

We were having a drink at the Snake Room and he was laughing his ass off without a care in the world.

“Yes Alex, stop teasing Candy, she looks quite upset” said Priya, patting me on the arm.

“Thank you!”

“Even though…” she continued cautiously “you should admit that a ghost is not the most plausible explanation.”

“Why not?” Chani interrupted “ghosts are perfectly natural. We are made of both flesh and spirit, some of us just stick around a little longer than what our perishable bodies allow.”

Alexy started laughing even louder.

“Come on Chani, do you really think that a dead guy would waste his time haunting a deserted dusty storage room? Personally, if it was me, I would set up home in the male locker room.”

“It could have been a girl, you know?” said Priya “and we have no idea what’s in that room at the back of the art building, anything could be going on there.”

“Nothing is going on there” I said “I went back in the morning. The door was locked and I found no indication of anyone ever being there.”

It wasn’t totally true. I did go back in the morning when lots of sunlight and passerbys felt like the best shield against whatever I had seen the night before. The door was indeed locked but I found a piece of paper lying on the floor that I didn’t think was there before. It was a page from a notebook where a poem was written in an elegant and slightly ancient-looking handwriting. For some reason I didn’t feel like sharing this detail with my friends. It may have had nothing to do with my ghost anyway.

My ghost… that sounded ridiculous even in my head, but I didn’t know how else to explain what I saw.

“I am going back there tonight and will get to the bottom of this!”

“Please let us accompany you, I hadn’t laughed so hard in days, we are all going back to the dorms anyway” said Alexy while we all got up and put our coats on.

This was secretly what I was hoping for, and the real reason I had brought up the incident in the first place. Strength was in numbers. Alexy wanted to get a good laugh out of the situation, Priya was the voice of reason and Chani was just interested in anything mysterious.

“Too bad Rosa was busy tonight, she is going to miss a real ghost hunt” he sniggered.

“Quite fitting” said Chani “it’s almost Halloween.”

Once on campus we made way to the dorms. The place was again desert.

“So… where is this haunted broom closet?” Alexy joked.

“Right over there” I pointed to the back of the art building.

“I hear no gruesome sounds”

“I know…”

“No scraping of chains”

“I know…”

“No dying screams”

“I know…”

“No…”

“Enough Alex” Priya said calmly “stop tormenting Candy, she feels enough mortified.” She turned to me and added “Don’t worry Candy, this place is dark and the wind is so strong, anyone could…”

Whatever she was going to say was cut off by the noise. Everyone froze. We looked at each other with wide eyes. Ah! I wasn’t crazy, this time I wasn’t the only one who heard it.

“What the…” said Alexy.

We heard it again, louder. It was a metallic sound, it did remind a bit of rusty chains scraping the floor.

In that moment three things happened almost at the same time: with the same loud noise the black door burst open and crushed against the wall, the tall dark figure raised against the doorway more imposing and majestic than ever, and a piercing scream split the air.

“You were right I would have never been able to open this rusty door by mys… Guys? What are you doing here? Alexy, why are you screaming like this?”

Rosa rushed out of the building and ran towards Alexy who was crouching on the floor with his head in his hands. He looked up when he heard her voice, a moment passed where he seemed to pull himself together, got back to his feet, dusted his clothes and said with a too-bright-to-be-real smile

“Ahah I was just teasing Candy, she has been telling everyone she saw a ghost here yesterday. It was you all along, great prank Rosa.”

“It was me, actually.”

A deep voice said from behind Rosa’s back. We all turned towards the door to see a tall man step into the light. He had slightly long hair of different shades from white and grey to dark, and the most beautiful heterochromia of the eyes I had ever seen, one golden brown and one deep green. He was wearing clothes in what looked like a gothic or Victorian style, a long black coat and a dark green cravat at his neck. He was… striking, and he was looking at me with those unsettling eyes.

“Guys, this is Lysander, Leigh’s brother.”

Everyone got out of their stupor and started saying hi and giving their names. I felt like my tongue was tied.

“He just moved in town to study at Anteros, he stayed with Leigh and I for a few days while the university sorted the mess they made with his dorm room. The idiot admin officer apparently mixed up his documents and assigned it to someone else.”

“What are you going to study, Lysander?” asked Priya with a smile.

“Poetry” he simply replied.

“He is doing his fifth year specialising in poetry, he has a real talent with words.” Rosa replied proudly patting his back.

“And what have you been doing in this building at night?” asked Chani curious.

“He is collaborating with the music department as a lyricist, they do lots of rehearsal at night, as I said he is really talented.” Why was Rosa talking in his place? If he really was so talented at putting words together he apparently wasn’t as much at expressing them. Also, why did he keep staring at me?

“Okay, good, mystery solved. I’m going to my room. Nice to meet you Lysander” Alexy said walking towards the dorms still looking a little unsettled.

“I have to go too, I just came to bring a few stuff my dear brother in law forgot” she said laughing “I swear Lysander, if your head wasn’t on your neck you would lose that too.”

“I am going to the library, goodnight.” Chiani waved and walked away.

Priya, Lysander and I headed to the dorms together.

“Well, this is me” she said looking at me a little apologetically, I had totally forgot her room was on the ground floor! “Nice meeting you Lysander, see you tomorrow Candy, goodnight.”

Lysander and I were now alone in the deserted hall of the dorms. I felt really awkward, why was I feeling so awkward? I pushed the elevator button, a part of me hoping he also had a room on the ground floor, but no, he was waiting right next to me. At some point the doors opened and we got in. I pushed seven and he pushed nine.

Was this the longest elevator ride in history? The silence was deafening. I was rummaging through my brain trying to find something, anything to say when, to my surprise he spoke first.

“I’m sorry.”

“W-what?” I stuttered.

“For yesterday, for scaring you. It wasn’t my intention. The door of the basement where we compose is very old and rusty, it needs a good push to open up. I apparently applied too much force and smashed it into the wall. I must have terrorised you, like that in the dark… I tried to explain but you run away, I am really sorry.”

I felt heath rising in my cheeks, God I was such an idiot.

“No, I should be the one to apologise, for acting like a child and thinking you were a…”

“A ghost?” he said and smiled. He actually smiled and it was… enchanting.

“I admit that’s pretty funny” was he teasing me? “but Casper was one of my favourite movies when I was a child so I’ll take it as a compliment.”

The elevator doors opened and, with a mental shake, I stepped out of the elevator mumbling a goodnight.

“Candy?”

I turned around surprised.

“See you around” he said with a small smirk on his lips. The doors closed, hiding his beautiful face.

Wow… I had so many questions. Who was this guy? Leigh’s brother yes but… where had he been all along?

And that intense aura surrounding him… those incredible and slightly sad eyes… I was intrigued and wanted to know more. Much more.

See you around he had said, I smiled a little.

Looking forward to it.

////////////////////////

Go to Chapter 2

#mcl #mclul #my writing #fanfic #my candy love #amour sucre #dolce flirt #amor doce #corazon de melon #mcl lysander #lysandro #lysandre #lysander #au #trois allumettes

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distractedhistotech · 5 years

Text

MSA +1: Ghost Aftermath

“The house is disappearing,” announced Sydney, staring out the back window. “I guess the ghost made it out of ghost energy. Or something.” That was a powerful ghost. “We should be safe for now.”

“I’m not stopping until we get to town,” said Arthur. That was too close. They were almost killed!

Vivi frowned. “Will the van be all right? He might’ve fried a component or something.”

“Um…” Arthur thought a moment. “Well, it started fine. It’s not making any troubling sounds. Might have messed with some of the electrical components, but this is an older van, so they won’t have much impact on its function once it’s up and running. So, yeah, we should get home all right, and I’ll run diagnostics on it tomorrow when I have some free time.”

Mystery let out a whine. He knew that Lewis had not been in a right state of mind and had been dangerous to be around, but it hurt to leave him behind again.

Vivi misunderstood and pulled him into her lap. “It’s okay Mystery. We’ll be home and away from any spooks soon.”

Mystery laid his head on her shoulder, wishing he could tell her what was wrong, but she was still suffering from whatever Lewis had done to her memory…

Maybe he could go back later, try to talk to Lewis on his own, get him to see reason.

Sydney leaned over the chairs. “Any idea what that was about? I’m kind of confused about the whole thing. Guy put me in the attic which was full of boxes that just had more boxes in them. And what I swear was a copy of the bride from the Haunted Mansion from Disney World. I looked in a few rooms while I was looking for you, but they were empty except for one that had a bed in it, but it didn’t feel like a bedroom if that makes sense.”

“He wouldn’t have needed a bedroom,” muttered Vivi. “He wouldn’t have needed actual food either, but he had some in the kitchen.” She frowned. “Did he plan this? Or maybe keep some food for if someone came by?”

“Why would he feed someone he was going to kill?” asked Arthur.

“Maybe it was poisoned!” suggested Sydney.

Vivi felt nauseous for a moment. “That’s certainly a possibility…”

“Oh, geez, you didn’t eat any, did you?” asked Sydney.

Arthur spun towards Vivi, nearly driving off the road. “Vivi!”

“I didn’t eat anything!” insisted Vivi, deciding not to mention she almost had. “Why would he need poison though? He had really powerful fire abilities and clearly wasn’t afraid to use them.”

Arthur shuddered and Sydney scowled at the memory. “He said it was me he hated the most,” said Arthur.

“Seriously?” Sydney asked in exasperation. “What could you have possibly done?”

“I…” He glanced towards Vivi. “Maybe he was one of the guys from when I escaped the cult? Except that wouldn’t make sense. It’s been over 10 years, and they wouldn’t have announced themselves like that. They would have just given me a fatal injury before I realized they were there.”

“That does make sense,” agreed Vivi. She’d seen how Arthur fought. She hadn’t been at all surprised when her father had taken him on as an apprentice. “Plus aren’t they supposed to eschew material things, like fancy suits?”

Arthur nodded. “Yeah, simple clothes, preferably homemade. Nothing like…that.”

Sydney snorted. “He was like Ghost Rider’s better dressed cousin. Hey, you think that was the suit he was buried in?”

“If it is, then that kills the cult theory,” said Arthur. “They used shrouds. Always. No exceptions.”

Vivi hummed in thought for a moment. “Maybe he’s someone we’ve run across before who died later on?”

“We have pissed off a lot of people,” commented Sydney. She winced. “Wow, there could be a lot of potential angry ghosts out there. Heck, considering what some of ‘em were like, they’d probably kill themselves to try and become a vengeful ghost.”

“That’s so stupid!” exclaimed Arthur.

“It might not seem so stupid to them,” pointed out Vivi. “And if they could pull off a ritual…”

“Where would they get that sort of stuff in jail?” muttered Sydney. “I know there’s a black market for like cigarettes and period pads, but where would they get something like aconite or yew bark? I mean some of that stuff’s dangerous even outside of magic. It’d be easier to break out of prison, but then they wouldn’t have to kill themselves to get back at us! Or maybe they would. Arthur kind of leaves an impression. I wouldn’t wanna fight him. I’d try to find some other way around him,” rambled Sydney. “But that would be hard cause supernatural stuff would be attracted to him, but I guess that’s not bad because he can’t actually see that stuff or do anything about that.” She frowned. “Hey, why didn’t that ghost back there stay invisible then? He could’ve snuck up on Arthur and set him on fire and that would be that.”

“And now I’m going to see that in my nightmares tonight,” drawled Arthur. “Thanks.”

Sydney’s eye widened. “Oh geez, I didn’t mean-Ignore everything I just said!”

Vivi shook her head. “No, you bring up some good points. I’m starting to think the second theory is pretty unlikely. I’ll still look up if anyone we’ve helped arrest has passed away recently, but I’d like to consider other possibilities as well.” She frowned in thought as she considered a new train of thought. “Arthur, what if he’s someone you knew but who died when you were so young you can’t remember him?”

“That…I guess it could be possible,” admitted Arthur. “But I still don’t know why he would want me dead. And what could a three-year-old have done to convince someone they need to die?”

“Pooped on his books,” suggested Sydney.

“Ew…No.”

“Ate his pudding?”

“That seems a bit much.”

“Stole his cat?”

“We never had any pets.”

“Spilled spaghetti sauce on his favorite white shirt?”

“Where are you getting these things?” questioned Arthur.

Vivi chuckled at them as she tapped her leg in thought. Something occurred to her. “Did he ever actually say your name?” Arthur shook his head. “Lance says you look a lot like your dad…”

Arthur winced. “Ah. That would make sense. Uncle Lance and Dad come from old money so a fancy suit and tie would not be out of place.” Arthur considered the options for a moment. “Maybe he was someone with a relative in the cult.”

“Huh, I didn’t think the suit looked that old,” commented Sydney. She frowned. “But have suits changed that much? And who wears a cravat nowadays anyway?”

“What’s a cravat?” asked Arthur.

“It’s like a fancy tie, bunch of cloth,” Sydney tried to explain. “Some characters I know wear ‘em, usually guys with money or class or both.”

“That fits,” said Vivi. “We can ask Lance if your dad ever pissed off someone enough for them to want him dead.”

“He wouldn’t know if it had something to do with the cult, but it’s a good place to start,” agreed Arthur.

Sydney made a considering sound. “You know…This makes a lot more sense. That ghost was pretty powerful. He would have had to have been dead for a while, right?”

Vivi nodded. “Generally speaking, it takes a while for a ghost to become that powerful, and we’ve only been doing this for a few years. He must have died before that if he’s at that power level, unless he used some sort of ritual.”

Mystery sighed. That was the case with most ghosts, but Lewis was a huge exception. He suspected a combination of a sudden and violent death, Lewis’ own powers, and the location. It was steeped in spiritual energy that he suspected had belonged to the demon. Energy the demon had been cut off from when Mystery sealed it in Arthur’s arm. He had noticed that the coloration of the cave had been darkening when they’d left, but had thought the energy was simply dispersing.

Lewis must have instinctively absorbed the energy and sped up his formation and development without realizing it.

And he’d come back as a vengeful wraith. Clearly, he thought Arthur had been fully responsible for his death. An understandable mistake, but Mystery couldn’t help but feel annoyed at Lewis. He had been a medium in life. He’d seen possessions. He knew Arthur attracted nasty entities. He still thought Arthur killed him even knowing all those facts. The only explanation Mystery could come up with was that Lewis was not able to think straight due to becoming so powerful so quickly after losing his brain.

Mystery wasn’t sure this could be fixed. There were purification rituals…No, that would require Lewis being willing to let go of his anger. Mystery would just have to make sure Sydney and Arthur stayed close to each other for the foreseeable future. At least until he found a way to calm Lewis which didn’t require Arthur being killed.

Mystery was brought out of his thoughts by Sydney picking him up. He let out a yelp. “Don’t worry Mystery. We won’t let that big, mean ghost hurt you.”

He was the last person Sydney needed to worry about.

#Mystery Skulls animated #Grrlpowercomic #au #+1 AU #Immediately after Ghost #Vivi Yukino #Arthur Kingsman #Sydney Scoville #Mystery

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crackmadhi · 5 years

Text

Loss

Loss. Loss. Loss. It was the one thing that followed me everywhere. The only constant I had ever known.

When I was three, my dad left for the Iraq War. A year later he was reported dead. It was the only time I did not cry after losing someone.

In the following five years my mother started dying. She coughed and coughed and two weeks before Aura turned eighteen she stopped forever. I was nine and I did not sleep for longer than five hours in one go since then.

I got older and when I turned sixteen Aura took me to her work place, the Space Center, where I met her colleague and my future mentor Metis Cykes and her lovely daughter Athena.

As I became a prosecutor at the age of twenty, I met the young police officer Robert “Bobby” Fullbright. He was ecstatic to work with me and made me feel welcome in a work space, where everybody was questioning my worth and usefulness. A place where the law and justice were about to break after the disbarment of a defence legend.

I thought I could help. I could catch the Phantom on my own, restore the reputation of the prosecutor office.

The Phantom did not let me.

At the age of twenty-one I lost my mentor, my freedom and innocence, my credibility, my profession and passion and the love of my sister and Athena.

At least that was what I believed back then. Yet I was given a chance to at least unite one last time with my work as a prosecutor. I was twenty-eight and I was a dead man walking. I had no hope left for salvation. Secretly, I might have longed for it, but I had no strength left to wish for it any longer.

I did not count on the grieving hater of my sister, the desperate rage of Justice and the loving courage of Athena. And I did not take to account that Phoenix Wright’s bottomless faith in his clients and the unshakable will to peruse to truth of Miles Edgeworth would work in my favour.

Neither did I think that Fulbright, the man who had continued to come and talk with me, had been dead for more than two years. I did not understand how I had not noticed it, how I had been tricked, how he could had been dragged into this.

Three years, even a bit more, had passed since they freed me. I got used to the freedom and the separation from my sister. I got better. People knew more about me, I opened up…

But still… Fulbright was not leaving me. I reached the point, where I could see that Metis death was not my fault, but why, why had I not noticed sooner that I was no longer talking with the real Fulbright? What had I missed?

It hurt. It hurt so much. So much I still have not talked about the man with anyone. Anybody else, but him.

Wednesday, 8 May 2030

It was a Wednesday evening and I was about to finish my paperwork for the day. A weird feeling, as if something was poking my lungs, had haunted me for the last half hour and I felt somewhat nauseous.

The brainless routine while filling in papers did not distract me from it. In fact, it made it even worse, as my thoughts started to wander, and I heard his voice chanting his fucking maxim.

In justice we trust! In justice we trust! In justice we trust! In justice-

“Fuck! Stop it!”, I shouted and interrupted the voice in my head.

Tiredly a threw my pencil on the desk and stood up. Aimlessly I stood up and wandered over to the tall bookshelf, filled with books Klav had given me in order to make the place look homelier.

I felt like he failed but took one out and opened it at a random page. State law. Great. The words did not stick. My eyes flew over the pages and left me clueless.

… could be interpreted as …

What? When did I say that? It must have been over a decade ago. It was to him. But why? What reason could I possibly have had to –

The book was lying on the floor now. I moved away from the shelf, felt my hand gripping the skin on my skull. Did I start hyperventilating?

… Don’t worry! I’m not …

I almost fell down. I gripped helplessly something to hold on. Probably it was one of the shelves. How could my voice only sound so young? Why did I remember this conversation only now? I had forgotten about it. It had no importance, I wanted myself to believe.

… Justice.

Justice?

Yeah. Funny isn’t it? …

It hit me straight in the face. My stomach ached horribly. I dropped down on my knees hitting my right hand on something.

My limbs suddenly became heavy, so heavy. Everything was numb. I – I felt like I watched myself cowered on the floor from the other side of my office.

That should have made me panic. At least I thought I should panic. Yet I did nothing like that. I saw myself crying, no weeping loudly. Unable to move, to stand up or to do anything other than that.

Was I disassociating? Great. That would be a first. Maybe it was a reaction due to the shock? The realization that there actually had been a way for me, and exclusively me, to figure out so much sooner that the Phantom and not Fulbright was standing in front of me?

Terran could be alive. My sister would be free, and Athena would not be traumatized. Dear god, why was I so oblivious?

I felt so devoid from emotion and started to drift away even further. Taka was in the room and screeched at me. My poor girl tried to pull me out of my turmoil, but it was an impossible task.

My crying continued, and I tried to remember if I had ever cried this loudly. No memory from such a thing crossed my mind.

A knock. Apparently, it did not startle me. I kept on sobbing, no reaction whatsoever.

The door was opened. Nahyuta came in. They had wanted to ask something but stopped as soon as they saw the scene in front of them.

“Simon?”, they said panicking and kneeled before me. With one hand they tried to keep Taka away from them and with the other they carefully touched my knee.

No reaction whatsoever. I did not even feel it.

“Simon? What happened? What is going on?”, they went on asking.

It had no use. They kept saying my name. After some time, I did not know how much later, steps followed. Someone entered. They were probably alarmed by Nahyuta’s cries and wanted to check onto the situation.

Von Karma and Klavier.

“What-? Nahyuta Sahdmadhi, what am I looking at right now?”, von Karma said furiously, while gripping her stuffy cravat thingy.

“I don’t know!”, Nahyuta answered teary. “I already found him like this! He- he doesn’t respond at all! He is like this for several minutes now!”

“Why didn’t you get someone in that case?! What fool-”

“Bright”, I completed breathlessly.

All three stared at me. I even I stared at me. I was surprised that I was even able to say a thing.

“Holy mother! Simon! Please, tell us what is going on! Or at least try to do so!”, Nahyuta now said.

They had let go of my knee and were crying now. I lifted my head a bit. Their eyes were so strikingly green, unique in their colour. Not like Fool Bright’s.

Thank god not like Fool Bright’s.

I had slipped back into my body, but everything was still so heavy and numb. I tried to lift my hand a bit, to reach for Yuta, to tell them they should not worry.

My body failed me. They saw it. It made Nahyuta stop crying, because now they must have realized that I was trying. That I was actually responding to their pleas.

They and Franziska started talking about moving me over to the couch, Nahyuta breaking of then and when to tell me I was doing good, as I slowly stopped sobbing. Until Klavier shrieked and pointed at my right hand.

“He’s bleeding! Oh god, his hand is full of blood!”, he exclaimed and jumped over to me. Decidedly he grabbed my hand and looked at it highly concentrated.

I did not even realize that I had been hurt. Must have happened when I fell down.

“Okay it’s not too deep, some of the blood has already dried and we still need to clean it. Please, Frau von Karma, do us the favour and get the first aid kit. We’ll try to seat him on the couch, while you’re at it.”

Von Karma did not contradict and was gone. Immediately Klav and Nahyuta tried to help me stand up. I tried to help them support my weight, but it was not much help. They were struggling to carry me but finally managed to get me on the couch in my office.

I now sat there and saw Taka hopping towards me. I had regained some control over my senses and knew I was the only one in the room, who would care for the poor, helpless animal. So, I cleared my throat and murmured, as it was the only thing I managed to do: “Window. Taka… wants… out…”

It took a moment before either of them understood what I wanted from them, so I had to repeat myself several times. Finally, Nahyuta got it and went to the window to let my beautiful bird out. At least on of us should be able to enjoy their freedom, I mused.

Von Karma came back and handed Klavier the kit. He opened it and laid it next to me on the couch. Nahyuta volunteered to fix my hand up and was assisted by the rock star.

They started with cleaning the wound and warned me carefully that it would probably hurt. I nodded absently but I felt no sting, as the cloth with the disinfectant on it touched my skin.

My lack of reaction might have bothered Nahyuta, but they did not let it show as they went on nursing me. Silence lurked in the air. It let me slide back to my thoughts on Fulbright. To the talk we had about eleven years ago. It had only been a stupid chat, not more than the exchange of unimportant stories. To think that this once so playful and light conversation would bring me such great turmoil. It was ironic.

“Do you know what happened, Simon? Can you tell us?”, Klavier asked me and handed me a glass of water.

I took it with my left and took a sip. Only now I started to realize how dry my mouth was and noticed the dried tears on my cheeks. A tissue was given to me and got to clean my nose. I started to feel like myself again, still somewhat off.

I took a deep breath, looked up and said with a weirdly peaceful smile: “I guess, I was disassociating due to shock.”

Von Karma and Nahyuta looked worried, while I saw anger arise in Klavier’s eyes. I did it. I actually used up Klavier’s apparently endless patience. He was done with my shit.

“Himmel, Simon! What the fuck fucked you up so badly? Stop this whole thing and follow your own fucking advice for once in your life! You might not believe it but it’s actually work- “, he started lamenting heatedly but was dragged back by Nahyuta and von Karma.

They pulled him outside of the room. I straightened up and folded my hands in my lap. Deep breath. I would not talk with him. Not here.

My strength had returned to an extend that it was possible for me to stand up and walk on my own again. Softly, I rose and snuck to the door. I heard them talking by the left side of the door. I know where they stood talking, they did not see me exit. I went in the opposite direction and took the stairs to leave the prosecutor's office.

Link to the fanfiction on ao3(there are 8 chapters)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16073606/chapters/37531937

#ace attorney #aa #ace attorney fanfiction #simon blackquill #Klavier Gavin #nahyuta sahdmadhi #blackmadhi #disassociation #tw: disassociation #simon is not doing to well #fulbright is haunting him #poor thing #but it's going to be fine

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