#Is it Dawn ? The innocent one just like willow was who she hurts so much throughout the season | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

willcwthewisp · 3 years

Text

next in line | marley & willow

LOCATION: willow’s workplace. PARTIES: @detectivedreameater and @willcwthewisp. SUMMARY: marley has some questions for willow concerning a missing person from her work. CONTAINS: head trauma mentions.

Marley pinched the bridge of her nose as she fought back the wave of another headache. Her body felt like it was deflating, slowly, with each hour that passed. Her blackouts were getting worse as well, and maybe Erin had a point, maybe she should get Queenie to look at her head. Maybe the crash had done more damage than she thought. Still, she hesitated, because she felt as if something were different this time. Something had changed. She couldn’t put her finger on what, but for now, she would push it to the back of her mind. She was back at work, but only on interrogation terms. So, it was with three other officers, that she’d ended up at a call center where someone had been reported missing. Missing persons were so boring, it was the same ending every time. They were dead or no longer human. In rare occasions, under a fae promise or kept in a vampire’s basement for food. She rubbed her eyes as she went in to her first interview, with one Willow Finch. Her picture looked like she smiled too much, and Marley frowned as she walked in, unsurprised, but still disappointed, the woman matched the photo. She sat in the chair across from her. “Need any water?” she asked, motioning to the pitcher next to them.

Getting questioned by the police was the absolute last place Willow wanted to be. Sure, they’d brought in literally everyone from the office, but she couldn’t help but feel as if she were the one under a magnifying glass, even if that wasn’t true in the least. They couldn’t have possibly come to ask about the man at her gallery, right? The one who’s arm she’d broken? After all, he said he wouldn’t press charges! But no matter what she told herself, Willow’s foot was still tapping anxiously against the office floor as the detective stood across from her. Detective… “Um- sorry- what did you say your name was?” Had the woman even said her name? She always felt at least a little better when she knew someone’s name. As for the water… “Oh- no thank you! I mean...maybe? Or...maybe not! Sorry- I just don’t know what the protocol is here. Which one’s the one that means you’re guilty again? Drinking the water or not drinking it?”

“Neither,” Marley said unenthusiastically as she watched the woman practically bounce in her chair. She talked a million miles an hour and Marley was tired. She poured herself a glass of water and then the other, scooting the extra glass towards the woman. “Neither means you’re guilty, I’m literally just offering you a glass of water.” And it was the truth, actually. Offering a glass of water was supposed to simply establish a baseline for behaviour, but this woman was so squirrelly, Marley knew immediately that wasn’t going to happen. “Stryder,” she announced sitting back and looking her over. She had big, brown eyes and shiny, blonde hair. She looked so unassuming, sitting across from her, almost an opposite to Marley’s all black outfit and her black hair and dark eyes. “So, first things first. I need you to state your name, age, how long you’ve been working here, and you daily schedule, please.” Maybe this would go better. She doubted it, but she could still hope, right?

“Neither?” Willow echoed with brief confusion, her mind working too quickly and anxiously to realize exactly what Marley meant. “But you can’t do neither- you can only take it or not take it?” How was she supposed to look innocent if neither action was the answer? It dawned on her too late what the detective had actually been getting around to. “Oh- you mean...nevermind…” Willow looked away in her embarrassment, cheeks already heating as a flush came over her cheeks. “Sorry I’m just ah- a little nervous. Not that I have anything to be nervous about!” She didn’t even really know the man that had gone missing due to mostly keeping to herself in the office. There was a reason she’d chosen a job as a telemarketer, and that reason was the exact opposite of any attempts to make friends. “Stryder?” Willow’s head titled quizzically to the side, the name ringing a bell. “You’re the woman who-” The medium glanced around as if making sure they were truly alone before leaning forward and lowering her voice. “-the woman who knows Nora?” Her back straightened against the chair as she prepared to answer the question, as if she were readying for a spelling bee at school. “Right- uh, Willow Finch. I’m 32, and I’ve been working here for…” She did a quick tabulation, grimacing when she realized how long her gallery had been closed. “About six months. Daily schedule like...work schedule or the entire day?”

Yeah, this was going to be a long day. Marley sighed and rubbed her head before setting the file down on the table and leaning forward. Oh, shit, this was that one chick from online? The one Nora had harassed? She almost groaned out loud. “Yeah, that’s me,” she said, tapping the papers, “guess I shoulda figured. Not too many Willows in a town like this.” It wasn’t an accurate commentary, really, just another dry joke. Marley’s specialty. She wrote down all the things Willow told her, watching the woman’s face closely. She wasn’t lying about any of it, not that she thought she would. But the straightened back and the momentary pauses between sentences helped establish a quick baseline, in case she did try to lie. “Like work schedule. I don’t need to know what you do with your free time, besides throw bear people around.”

Great. It wasn’t that Willow didn’t like Marley based on her first impressions online. It was just that the woman had seemed abrasive, somewhat aggressive, and a little dismissive. Okay...maybe she didn’t really like Detective Stryder. But the last thing she needed was for a police officer to know that. “Is there...not?” The medium blinked slowly, apparently not catching Marley’s dry humor in person in that same way it’d flown over her head on the forums. “Okay-” she began with a nod, this time looking as if she were getting ready for an oral examination in front of the class. “Well- I usually work five days a week. I’m full-time.” She’d needed to be to even begin to cover her bills. She’d bought her apartment in the prime of her gallery flourishing, and telemarketing wasn’t quite as profitable. “And uh- when I’m here I just...you know- call people and try and sell them things.” With the mention of bear people, Willow’s voice quieted. “I thought you said they’re called bugbears?”

Marley was just trying to drown the exhaustion out when something felt as if it were being lifted from her shoulders, and her body felt suddenly lighter. So light she almost thought she was standing up, but looked down at her hands and found herself in the same position as before. She blinked, looked around, then back at Willow. Though her head still hurt and her eyes still drooped, she no longer felt the extreme exhaustion she’d had since first waking up from her accident a few weeks ago. “Full time, got it,” she noted, picking up her pen slowly and writing that down, too. She’d completely missed Willow’s first question, but breezed right by it as if it had never been said. “When do you take your breaks? Same time every day?” she asked, glancing across the table to Willow and wondering if she was simply seeing things, or if that side of the room suddenly looked darked. “What? Oh, yeah, they are. It was just-- I just...joking.”

A heaviness settled onto Willow as Marley spoke, suddenly feeling as if she were carrying more weight than she had been before. Rolling her shoulders, she tried to shake the sensation to no avail. Ugh, was this just another anxious symptom of being interrogated? Maybe she could just go straight to sleep after work, and shake the feeling of being drained by the sensation of being under a microscope. She didn’t feel the need to repeat the question Marley had skipped over concerning her name. The sooner she got out of her the better. “Usually I do. I like to keep a schedule and stuff.” It made it so she knew what to expect of the day. “Every now and then I’ll take it other times, though.” Why did her break schedule matter? Did they think she’d had something to do with the missing person on her breaks? Again she felt the feeling of nerves clawing up her throat, pressing her to ask her next question. “You don’t- you don’t think it was me, right? I mean honestly I would have confessed by now. I’m really bad at keeping secrets that make me feel guilty. You should ask my sister- I always ended up tattling on her, and Forest is a whole other story. Oh- Forest is my brother.” Gosh, that had been a lot of words, hadn’t it? Already it felt as if they were taking a toll on her. A lot of words meant a lot of energy.

“And what time are those breaks?” Marley asked, going down the routine list of questions. No, she didn’t think Willow had anything to do with it, of course she didn’t. The girl had accidentally confessed to hurting Nora like two seconds after finding out Marley was a cop, it was doubtful she could lie even to save her own life. Marley took in a breath and for the first time in ages, felt it reach all the way down to her toes. She couldn’t help but smile a little. “They’re just routine questions,” she told her, tapping the notebook with the pen, like children do when they have too much energy. “The faster you answer them, the faster you get outta here. I know you didn’t have anything to do with it, Willow. You’re a narc, you’d narc on yourself, proof being that you already did it once before.” She gave a smirk, shrugging as she sat back. “I really don’t need to know about your family dynamics right now. But if it turns out you did kidnap this dude, then you can tell me allll about them, sound like a deal?”

The time of the breaks? Willow didn’t understand why these were the questions being asked, and that only sent her a little further over the edge of trepidation. She didn’t know how to give a good answer without knowing what it was Marley was looking for. “Um- I usually take the half hour break first around 12:30 for lunch, and then the fifteen minute break around 3:30.” She liked her mornings longer, saving her break for later in the day when she was less fresh. Now the detective was smiling. Was that good or bad? “Okay...what are the other questions? Or is that all of them?” she asked hopefully, trying to remember if there was any more of the coffee she liked leftover in the breakroom. She wasn’t usually a big drinker of it, but the sudden drowsiness that had taken her over was inspiring her to think differently. A frown came over Willow’s lips, not entirely certain that she liked the way Marley said the words narc, and applied it to her. “What do you mean I did it once before?” Oh god, was Marley lying and she did think that Willow was the reason for the missing person? Had she accidentally somehow admitted to the crime? “I didn’t!” she insisted while her tone grew more worried. “I really didn’t I mean- I don’t even think I could fit a body in my car or anything!”

Marley noted the rest of Willow’s answers and compared them to the notes on when the man went missing, and just like she thought, none of it added up. The poor man had disappeared on the overnight shift, anyway, so interviewing the day shift seemed pointless. But the captain wanted to be thorough, and so they would be thorough. She etched a little note on the pad and closed it, looking up at Willow. “What? Oh, no-- that’s all the questions. You’re good to go.” Except Willow kept talking, rambling, worrying. If this had been ten minutes ago, Marley would have groaned out loud and walked away. But as it were, she was feeling better, so she stayed put. “You practically confessed to me about Nora, remember? You were all worried I was gonna arrest you or fine you or something.” Marley let out a loud chuckle. “Woah, hey, realx, it’s fine. I know you didn’t have anything to do with it. I’m kidding. You really, really need to learn how to read sarcasm.”

“Oh, really?” Willow managed to say once she’d finally processed that she was free to live another day, and the shackles of the man wouldn’t be clapping onto her wrists anytime soon. “Thank god,” she sighed while her shoulders sagged, still a little confused as to why the questions had left her feeling so heavy. Sure- she did poorly in situations where she thought she might be arrested, but her anxiety didn’t usually leave her this level of tired. “Oh right, Nora.” She hadn’t realized Marley had been talking about a time other than today, and it was true that Willow had been all too eager to ‘confess’ her crime of throwing Nora through a window despite the bugbear being the one to break in. Willow blinked while Marley made an attempt to calm her, somewhat surprised that the woman was trying to help in the first place. Maybe she was kinder in person than she was online. “I just...I kinda forget it exists when I’m worried,” Willow admitted sheepishly, generally fine with sarcasm if she wasn’t thinking about everything that could go wrong. “But um- I hope you find him. You know- the missing person.” She knew just as well as any other native White Crester that far more people tended to go missing than were found. It was practically a death sentence in a town such as this. Just the thought of it made her want to lie down.

#// :------------------)#head trauma tw #ch:marley #chatzy #next in line #wickedswriting #horse girl

13 notes · View notes

loved-lefthaunted · 3 years

Note

What are your thoughts on all the evermore songs?

oh my god. this is such a hard question for me so brace yourself. it’s taken me nearly 2 months to write this out and i still don’t think i’ve managed to encapsulate all my thoughts.

So, I have very strong feelings about evermore. I immediately loved it three times as much as folklore, for a variety of reasons. I can do a song-by-song breakdown alongside my general thoughts of the album below:

Firstly, I want to preface this by saying that I do not disregard the impact that folklore had on me prior to evermore’s release. I am not oblivious to the fact that folklore likely primed me for the sound that evermore had and that my mind was set up for a similar sounding album so was willing to receive it with more open ears.

That being said, I think that evermore is the superior album. The overall emotional range and sonic variety of the album is wider and more thought out. The different songs provide a more well-rounded listen in my opinion and give me much more emotional investment than folklore. Each individual song feels strong and there are far more songs with single potential than folklore.

So let’s get down to it:

1. Willow - iconic. The big sister that cardigan deserves. The song that I wish the Lover album had been. A song so fully devoted in such a soft and sweeet way without feeling sickly. A mature way to dedicate a song to the person that you can’t live without but in a way that doesn’t throw pink confetti at your face and tell single people to fuck off. TAKE MY HAND? OKAY TAYLOR. WRECK MY PLANS? FOR SURE BABES. THAT’S MY MAN? 100% FEEL U GAL.

2. Champagne Problems - LOOK. I AM CLAIMING THE NAME SAMPAGNE PROBLEMS FOR ALL FUTURE CONTENT. I want to be proposed to just so that I can reject them and then get wildly drunk on overpriced alcohol. It’s heartwrenching in a way that Taylor hasn’t been since the likes of Treacherous. It doesn’t throw sadness at you, overwhelm you with tears. It hides heartbreak within a soft piano riff and gorgeous imagery.

3. Gold Rush - a sapphic daydream. i cannot believe this is real. The return of a heart-thumping drumbeat and the most lovely, pure song that just describes the infatuation with someone beautiful and how you can wonder about them and be so happy about them and jealous of them all at once.

4. ‘Tis The Damn Season - this christmas song makes me wish i had a boy next door in my hometown that i could randomly sleep with. why don’t i have a fluffy hallmark holiday film based upon this premise? why isn’t there a christmas music video to show me how their interactions work during the holidays and how it differs so vastly with their normal lives? Why can i feel both the distance and the closeness that these two people feel? the cutest dedication to a very un-cute casual relationship. a bittersweet shout out to the people who make us happy for a few fleeting moments spread out over the long haul.

5. Tolerate It - i have very VERY strong feelings about this one. it feels like it both encapsulates romantic and non-romantic love so perfectly. It pairs perfectly with the likes of Closure (more on that later). We all deserve to be celebrated. In a world of people settling for less than they deserve, we should reach for those who deserve us. We are worth it. Find someone who will show us how worthy we are. It’s aching and slow and painful and just....everything. Just because someone has always been there doesn’t mean they deserve to continue to be there. Tolerating you is not the same as deserving your loyalty.

6. No Body, No Crime (feat. HIAM) - IT TOOK 14 YEARS BUT TAYLOR FINALLY MURDERED A MAN IN COLD BLOOD AND I AM HERE FOR IT. MEN ARE TRASH, LADIES. REMEMBER THIS. ENGRAVE IT INTO YOUR TOMBSTONES. TATTOO IT ON YOUR FOREHEADS. MEN AS AN ENTITY DO NOT DESERVE US. MURDER THEM. A YEEHAW DREAM. (I have no strong feelings about HIAM but the existence of Este’s name is a blessing in itself, their backing vocals are a lovely addition and a true testament to their friendship as we know how protective Taylor is about mixing business and friendship through collaborations)

7. Happiness - this song is HURTFUL. a song about growth, a song about finding yourself amidst the loss of a partner, a friend, a family member. a loss so deep that it will hurt you for years to come and take a piece of you away forever. but a loss that you have to be resigned to and grow from and let go of. the slow build of the backing is something i haven’t heard since Holy Ground. Both songs talk about loss and moving on in such starkly different ways but still encompass the feeling of reminiscing on something good and pure and perfect whilst battling the knowledge that it’s over and trying to be happy for the person now that they’re gone.

8. Dorothea - the sweetest girl in the neighbourhood. a childhood friend that we all miss having. a person we watched grow into something massive and successful and we’re so genuinely happy for them. the song encompasses the feeling of a distanced joy. a joy that has nothing to do with you, everything to do with this person that you’d be happy to accept again with open arms but will be equally as happy to watch succeed from a distance. a bouncy backing track and lovely vocalisations that really build a sense of a warm hug and the feeling of soft morning sun on your skin.

9. Coney Island (feat. The National) - alright. so i’m sat on a bench in the cold, wrapped up in a winter coat and a hat and gloves and a massive scarf that covers half of my face. i can see the air when i breathe out. there’s an empty ferris wheel at a deserted fairground and i can remember when it was alive and bustling and when i was surrounded by all of the people closest to me on a late summer’s day. and i miss them. i yearn for that to be back. the way we yearn for a time before covid, before masks and elbow touches and sanitising everything. a time when you could sit around a table with your friends and welcome someone with a hug and visit your family for the holidays. a time of joy that was so overlooked until it was gone. The presence of The National is also a breathtaking addition and truly deserved after Aaron’s input on both folklore and evermore. I’m glad they saved it for this song.

10. Ivy - this song just radiates GREEN. Am I in a forest? Am I just in a greenhouse, watering the plants? The guitar/banjo sounds make me so horrifically nostalgic for Speak Now era. The male backing vocals remind me that Taylor has evolved so far from the girl we used to exclusively listen in conjunction with Caitlin Bird and Liz Huett.

11. Cowboy Like Me - one of the only songs I don’t really care about? it’s not bad, it’s just not great. it’s yeehaw without the accompanying passion. It’s the end of a sad, sad wild west movie. It’s a backing track in a scene of a TV show when someone is going on a journey alone to find themselves. But it’s nothing special.

12. Long Story Short - DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH ME. THE BEST SONG ON THIS ALBUM IN MY OPINION. THE STRONGEST BEAT, THE NOSTALGIA OF 1989, THE LYRICS OF RED, THE FUCKS GIVEN OF REPUTATION. THE PERFECT IMMERSIVE TAYLOR EXPERIENCE. TRULY A 10/10 ENTITY. I WILL HAVE THIS PLAYING AT MY GRADUATION. I SURVIVED.

13. Marjorie - the loss of a grandparent is always a lot. i’ve lost 2 due to Covid and it’s cut me deeper than I ever imagined. Marjorie is the 50′s sepia toned daydream that sends you flying back to being a child and being taught life’s most important lessons when you were far too young to understand them from someone so much wiser than you. It feels like I’m being taught to live again. Another build up backing track, but in such an uplifting way? A way that makes you think of the sun slowly coming out of the clouds. Of the end of a rainstorm and the start of a new day. Optimism and innocence. Peace and hope.

14. Closure - right, the return of sadness. The use of the clatter and discord in the background. The death of a Big Machine (subtle and perfectly done). She’s doing better. We all are. It reminds me of the friends I’ve lost and crave to have back but know I’m better off without. We have to let go of this. Close the chapter. You don’t even need the epilogue, it’s over. The production makes me so uncomfortable and it’s SO NECESSARY because lack of closure is UNSETTLING. It’s horrifying. It’s devastating. But the lyrics and the power of the song show how strong you can be and how important it is to push through the discomfort and continue to live.

15. Evermore (feat. Bon Iver) - the titular song. The return of Bon Iver’s vocals and the lone piano background are truly something to be commemorated for years to come. Although it lacks the painstaking hurt of Exile, this is one of her most simple pieces of artistry on this album and it’s BEAUTIFUL. Something that feels bare and raw. A song that cuts deep and shows us the true core of what she’s currently feeling right now: that although pain might feel forever, it’s not. all pain, much like joy, is fleeting and we have to feel it but we need to remember that it’s only a piece of our experience and place it into context. The song veers on self-pity and wallowing in hopelessness until the latter third, where suddenly hope rises out of the ashes alongside a slightly padded out production from Bon Iver’s vocals. A strong end to the album. This song sets us up for future albums on a note of optimism. It’s a new dawn.

29 notes · View notes

yukizakii · 3 years

Text

ghosts ch. 1

They were both broken people. Broken people didn’t fix each other, as the pieces would never quite perfectly together. But they understood each other. They were able to see the beauty within one other of being incomplete. --

fall, 1870. The Boshin War is over. Yukimura Chizuru returns to her childhood home in Tokyo to learn how to live again. Nagakura Shinpachi has escaped with his life under a new name.

The world is cruel, but it works in mysterious ways to bring their paths together again.

(aka a hakuoki fanfic | shinpachi x chizuru centric; post hijikata bad end)

xposted on AO3

— one.

“Ow!”

The clay of the teacup burned hot, much hotter than Chizuru had expected, and her fingers instinctively drew away from the heat. The cup slipped from her grasp and smashed into scattered shards onto the ground, the oolong tea that had once been contained forming little rivers in-between the cracks of the stone pavement. A few droplets beaded onto her kimono, but she quickly brushed them away with the back of her hand; she had washed all of her silks just yesterday, and she hardly wanted to have this one stain.

She sighed. It was probably her twentieth sigh of the day so far, and the sun had just barely moved into the sky. Every time she let out another heavy breath, she could almost hear Okita’s voice teasing her—What are you sighing for, Chizuru-chan? Don’t you know that I might have to kill you for looking so unhappy?

But he wasn’t here, and neither were any of her old friends.

Chizuru was alone, and lost.

Stop, Chizuru. Don’t think like that. Negativity was no stranger to her now. She could barely even go through the motions of her daily tea routine without thoughts and voices from the past lingering in the back of her mind.

Each morning she woke up to felt like night, a darkness shrouding over mind like the shadows of the weeping willows in Kyoto. Heavy as it was, she still forced herself to get up from her futon and face each day. She had to live, because as much as she sometimes wished that it was all but a dream, it was reality. She had to live, for those who didn’t.

You have to live, like they wanted you to.

She reached for the broken pieces of the clay cup, but a jagged piece slipped through her palm and slashed through the skin. Chizuru let out an instinctive gasp in pain and dropped the broken pottery again, watching as the blood welled from her hand and dripped over her arm. The bright red droplets struck her with a sense of deja vu, and suddenly she was transported back years before. There she was in front of the well at the Shinsengumi compound washing dishes when she had cut her finger in a similar way, and Heisuke, Heisuke-kun, had been confronted with his Rasetsu bloodlust for the first time.

But it didn’t just stop there. The sight and smell of her blood continued to reveal a torrent of memories that washed over her with a vivid brightness—memories that she had been trying to repress every day. That alley in Kyoto during a snowfall, the smell of blood and the high-pitched laughter of a monster in the air. The brilliant scarlet that seemed to flood the streets of Kyoto after Kinmon no Hen, mixed with the smell of smoke and ash from the fires.

That flowering cherry blossom tree in Hakodate, the spiderweb of blood across her hand transforming into a river that flowed into the ground from a man’s body.

“Look, Hijikata-san. It’s the Flag of Sincerity that everyone worked so hard to raise.”

—

She had no idea how long she stayed under that beautiful, cursed cherry blossom tree. Seconds, minutes, hours—time meant nothing to her anymore. The only thing that she knew of was that at that moment, he was gone. As the war raged on, Chizuru had felt herself becoming alarmingly numb to loss. She had become almost accustomed to seeing the dead lay on the ground through each city they trekked through, and the snippets of conversations she overheard no shook her like they used to. A hundred of our men, lost at Bonari Pass seemed like normal war talk now. But being surrounded by death and devastation didn’t make it any easier though. Losing her father, her friends, and her family had pierced through her heart, and she couldn’t think of a night that she hadn’t cried herself to sleep for the past few months.

Losing Heisuke and Sannan had broken her for days—she still felt partially responsible for the creation of the Ochimizu, and it pained her to know that she would never laugh with Heisuke again, or see Sannan’s cunning smile. Okita and Kondou had felt like some kind of sick joke from God, the two of them leaving this world in ways that were unfit for the two strongest warriors she knew. Harada, the man who had a spirit so loud and noble that somehow could make everyone smile, was now someone she would never hear from again. Every one of her friends’ deaths wrecked her heart open in ways that she didn’t know it could bleed. But losing him was different. She had held Hijikata’s body in her arms long after his eyes closed and the last traces of warmth left him, her tears dripping endlessly down her cheeks and onto his bloodied uniform.

She didn’t know what to do without him.

For the past five years, he had been a constant presence in her life. Chizuru had first come to depend on him for protection and stability; to the girl that had somehow landed into the Shinsengumi headquarters, Hijikata had been downright scary. His steely violet eyes seemed to read straight through her every time he caught her outside of her room, and she felt secondhand fear every time that she saw the way that he tolerated no sort of disobedience from his soldiers and punished those who strayed from the Shinsengumi’s code with injury or worse. But then as those first few months somehow stretched into years, Chizuru’s fear slowly faded and her days and memories began to fill with so many other emotions and experiences with Hijikata. Even though she spent her days with all of the different captains of the Shinsengumi, it was somehow always Hijikata that was by her side when she needed it the most.

Hijikata, who had shielded and fought against Kazama for her, his arm wrapped around her and her kodachi in the other. Hijikata, who was uncharacteristically fussy about his long, beautiful jet-black hair, and had yet allowed her to comb and tie it back while he had worked. Hijikata, who secretly wrote poetry with a smile on his face when no one was looking. Hijikata, who had taken her to a restaurant after a festival in Kyoto, and had paid for what was a surprisingly luxurious meal for what he had gruffly described as “just a thank you, you’ve been a big help”.

Hijikata, who had drank the Ochimizu that her father had created, and gave up his humanity to protect her from Kazama and to stand up for his values.

Their initial relationship as a page and superior had been awkward at best, and trust had been slow to develop. But after 5 years, the realization came to her so suddenly that she had almost fallen over herself: she was in deeply love with him. Her heart ached to always be near him and she loved to hear her name roll off his tongue—secretly, she thought that sounded more beautiful than she had ever heard it said. Chizuru had never had anything more than innocent crushes and dates when she had lived with Kodo in Edo, but her emotions and heart felt so strongly towards this person that she was certain that this was love, and a love that she knew would not come easily.

And of course it didn’t, because the man her heart had fallen in love with was like a force of a demon himself. Demon Vice Commander of the Shinsengumi, Hijikata Toshizou. Hijikata Toshizou, who was feared but adored by equally as many. Hijikata who was the talk of the town at times, with his long black hair that he refused to cut and high cheekbones that seemed to only accentuate his piercing gaze. Chizuru knew that he was a handsome man, some even saying he looked as if he had walked out of a wood-block painting, but she found more merit in the Hijikata she knew. His dedication, his resilience, his loyalty, and his love ran deeper than anyone else would ever know.

He had chosen her. And then he had left her.

Memories and concern for Hijikata filled her mind and thoughts endlessly for the months she stayed by herself alone in Sendai. She knew that he had left her in Sendai for her own safety; a young woman had no place in a war after all, but it was maddening. Chizuru knew she was no good on the battlefield and defenseless against a gun, but being left behind crushed her more than she could have ever imagined. She had no idea if she would ever see him again—dead or alive. What had happened to Kondou was something she very well knew could be something that could happen to Hijikata. But once she received the letter from Ootori, she had hastened to Ezo with her heart thudding in her chest with every thought that she was one step closer to seeing Hijikata again. No matter the hurt and pain that lay ahead of them, she knew that she had to be by his side.

And it had been so worth it. For a few months, despite knowing the pain and suffering that lay ahead of them, she had been happier than ever, just to be by his side. From the moment of their reunion, Chizuru was able to see his actions and words in so much more clarity. The bitter hoarseness in his voice when he yelled at his troops was not conveying anger, but worry to please come back alive. His scowl on his face when he worked long nights was not just because he was frustrated to shoulder this burden, but because he didn’t want anyone else to take the fall for the secret messages he was sending. He was the strongest person she had ever met, yet also the kindest and gentlest at the same time as well. In those few short months, Chizuru witnessed all sides of Hijikata and learned just how soft his hands could be on her hair, or the warmth of his embrace during the occasional nights that he did not work until dawn and allowed her to stay in the room with him.

If she could shoulder some of his pain and suffering, Chizuru had thought, then that was enough purpose for her to keep existing. If her blood was truly as powerful as Sanan and Kodo had alluded, then she would use it all and anything else in her power to keep him alive.

But he was gone, and she had failed. Maybe he would survived if she let him drink her dry, but Hijikata Toshizou was never the kind of person who would save himself at the expense of someone else. Makoto, he would say. Sincerity, which was the foundation for the Shinsengumi’s core beliefs. One had to be sincere and true to himself as a warrior and as a man to the end. Hijikata Toshizou had chosen his path. He chose to use his remaining life force to protect her from Kazama, and protect the beliefs that he had loved and carried for so long. He had died a warrior, and she knew that the Shinsengumi and all that he had fought for was finally at rest with him as well.

The two of them had known that this was a possibility from the start; the war was drawing to a close, and they were fighting a losing battle in Hakodate. Chizuru knew from the way Hijikata shook with anger and pain his sleep, or the scowl on his face every time he walked into the room from another meeting. She had always had some hope that maybe, just maybe, they would prevail and the two of them would find a future together.

But there was no place in this world for the two of them.

In a rush of scattered cherry blossoms, another individual had appeared under the tree—Amagiri. Polite as always, the red-haired demon he had greeted her with a formal bow before speaking. Since Kazama had strayed from the way of a demon and had continued to meddle with humans against his Clan warnings, he no longer could be laid to rest with his ancestors. Amagiri had come to bury Kazama’s body—and if Chizuru would like, Hijikata as well. How Amagiri knew that Kazama had died was some Demon logic that Chizuru knew was simply beyond her, but in that moment, she had been oddly relieved. Chizuru had always been a sensible girl, and even in times of crisis, she had a way of forcing herself to function. Even though burying Hijikata was exactly the last thing she wanted at that very moment, this was war. If they did not bury him now, his body would be discovered by troops and dragged out as a trophy to mark the fall of the Shinsengumi. She would have rather herself die than allow that to happen, but there was no way that she alone could have ever found the strength, physical and emotional, to bury him.

So she had let Amagiri dig two graves underneath that beautiful cherry blossom tree to lay both Kazama and Hijikata to rest. At Chizuru’s request, Amagiri dug Hijikata’s grave on the other side of the tree, away from Kazama’s; she knew that he would abhor being buried directly next to the demon he had spent years fighting. She took her final last glance at the man she had loved in the earth—his eyes closed, dark hair framing his face, swords crossed over his body, looking more peaceful and well-rested than she had ever seen him—and then turned away, unable to look as Amagiri completed the burial process.

Chizuru had been so consumed with grief that what happened afterwards was a blur. When she admitted she didn’t have an idea of her next move, Amagiri had simply stated, “It would be unwise to allow a woman to travel alone.” He had accompanied her to Hakodate, where she collected the rest of their personal belongings and relayed the news of Hijikata’s passing to Ootori. They then traveled to Yase, where Osen had been waiting; news of Kazama’s battle against a fake Demon had spread fast in the Demon world, and she had immediately sought to take Chizuru under the protection of the Yase Demon Clan. Chizuru had little memory of the months she spent in Yase; she only remembered grief and sorrow. News of the defeat of the Shogunate army and the rise of the Meiji Restoration flitted into

the Demon village over the next few months, but none of it meant anything to Chizuru. Hijikata was gone. Okita was gone. Heisuke, Sannan, Kondou, Harada…her life as she had known it, and all the people that had made it were gone. She heard nothing about Saito and Nagakura, but it hurt too much to hope. But after a few months of moping and living like a shell, Chizuru decided that she wanted to return to her home in Edo—well, Tokyo, now. She still had a home there, after all, and as kind as Osen and the demon clan of Yase was, it was not her home. So after six long years, Chizuru had finally returned to the old house that she had used to live with her father. Kodo, the man she had thought was her father. It had taken her almost a full two weeks to clean out all of the dust and vermin that had accumulated in the space over almost half a decade, but she had never been one to shy away from hard work. Rather, she had thrown herself into it, desperate for something, anything to do, to keep her mind busy and away from her thoughts. What quite honestly should have been work for two or three, she had completed in an astonishingly short time.

Chizuru had cleaned and changed the house to be more of a modest one fit to her needs; she had sold away most of their belongings, and kept only the essentials of what she needed. In this exchange and cleanup, Chizuru had dug out her women's clothes, but quickly found that many of her old kimonos in her closet no longer fit her—and well, of course they didn’t. She had last been a growing sixteen-year-old girl the last time she had worn them, and now she was a twenty-one year old woman. The hems that had once grazed her feet were now hanging above the ankles, and the silk was tight around her new curves and defined muscle she had developed after years of patrolling and running around Kyoto.

It was a strange and painful reminder that so much had changed.

Crafty as she was, Chizuru had loosened the seams and sewn together some of the cloth to create a couple of kimonos that fit her, so she could finally retire her pale peach hakamashita and hakama into storage. How strange for her to finally fold and lay those clothes away, although quite honestly she should have reduced them to rags. The silk had been patched and restitched over and over with years of wear and tear, but part of herself could not simply bear to toss that part of her life away. Instead, she had neatly folded it up and placed it into a box, next to her tattered Western military uniform. Her kodachi was racked on display in the bedroom, close enough to where she could grab it, but Chizuru sorely hoped that she would never need to touch that blade again.

But what was she doing here in Tokyo? What would she be doing, for the rest of her life? She had no idea. Chizuru knew that her existence and troubles as a female Demon did not end with Kazama’s death; Osen had been sure to warn her of it, and had strongly cautioned her against returning to Tokyo alone. But despite the lack of a clear direction in her future, and the dangers of traveling and living alone, Chizuru knew that she needed some sort of normalcy. She didn't want to think of Demons, of Rasetsu, of Ochimizu, of war and blood and death—she wanted to grieve alone, quietly, away from all that had pained her.

She was here, living and trying to bury her past life behind, but it always seemed to follow her.

She was just here. Existing, living. Drinking tea on her front porch, although her current cup was now smashed to smithereens and the tea was seeping into the hardwood. That painful memory hung heavily on her heart, and she wiped away tears from her face with her unbloodied hand, although the wound was already well on its way to healing. Maybe she would go into the town today to get some new teacups along with her daily groceries for meals; she still had a hard time stomaching food at times, but Chizuru knew she needed to keep her strength up. She wanted to start a garden in the back as well, to save her coin for fresh vegetables for when she needed it. Ootori had paid her well for her time and escape, but she knew it wouldn’t last forever. At some point, she would need to recoup her finances and find work to sustain herself.

But for today, she wanted to be normal. As normal as she could be.

Live, Chizuru.

I am living, Hijikata-san.

Chizuru stood up and stepped outside, tilting her head up to the sky. A slight breeze fanned across her face, and she inhaled the air deep into her lungs. Even though it was well into fall, she thought for the briefest moment, she smelled the sweet scent of cherry blossoms. Maybe today would be a good day.

#hakuouki #hakuoki #yukimura chizuru #nagakura shinpachi #hijikata toshizou #umm it's me i love writing tragedy

11 notes · View notes

oveliagirlhaditright · 3 years

Text

So, Podcast Now made a video about whether or not Sora’s character needs fixed. And I haven’t watched it yet (I will. And I’m looking forward to it), but I bet I know what it’s going to say: that Sora needs to go down a dark road, to really develop and not be stagnant. That’s what a lot of people say, who don’t think Sora’s had character development in a long time or at all.

But I personally don’t think that’s necessary. Rather, I think he should be treated like Buffy Summers from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, where there were definitely moments that you saw the toll that was being taken on this poor girl and how close she got to quitting and stuff... but she never did. And her strength, and her always doing the right thing, made her admirable. And not in a Mary-Sue way, either, because we saw her struggles through and through.

Like, one thing with Buffy that made her and her struggles so interesting, was that it was usually someone she loved who she ended up having to fight as the seasons’ big bads.

In season two, it was the love of her life Angel: a vampire who had turned evil again, who she had to kill in order to save the world.

In season three, she had to nearly kill her former friend Faith (and there may have been feelings here on both sides, too), who had gone crazy and essentially become a serial killer.

Season four pit Buffy against her new boyfriend, Riley, some, as he was very much a military/ask no questions kind of person, and Buffy is the opposite of that.

In season five, Buffy was faced with the possibility that her sister may have to die, to stop the world from being dragged into Hell (and this is Buffy’s darkest moment, where she nearly did quit. She starts talking about how she killed Angel in season two. “I sacrificed Angel to save the world. I loved him so much, but I knew [that I had to kill him. That that was the right thing.] I don’t have that anymore. I don’t know how to live in this world, if these are the choices. If everything just gets stripped away, I don’t see the point ...If Dawn dies, I’m done. I’m quitting.” Give Sora something like that. Even if it’s just for a moment, and something miraculous happens so he doesn’t have to quit, of course.) And she then has this epiphany that she could die to save the world instead, and does (and is brought back in season six by her witch friend, Willow... though Buffy’s actually not happy about that, as the poor thing was torn out of Heaven).

Season six, Buffy had to fight best friend Willow (and before that, she was even getting teed up to go against friend Anya. But thankfully, that one didn’t pan out)... after Willow’s true love Tara was murdered, and in her grief Willow wanted to end everything.

And what happened in season seven? Buffy fights the First ever evil. And this evil has the power to turn into anyone. And it does turn into Buffy a few times, so you can almost say she’s fighting herself. Like, there’s this line, where the First is “Buffy” while talking to her. “’To every generation, a Slayer is born. One girl in all the world. She alone will have the strength and skill to-’ There’s that word again. What you are. How you’ll die. ‘Alone.’” Buffy eventually tells the First to “get out of her face”, and she rises again.

Just- Buffy’s such a tragic character. And she is the Slayer. And there’s definitely a part of her that recognizes it--and is proud of it--and eventually would/could never want to be anything else... but it’s also brought her so much pain. And she never wanted to be the Slayer because of it.

Like, in the season five finale when Buffy’s friends are trying to decide if they should let Dawn die or not, it starts in a simple way: Buffy just saving an innocent bystander from a vampire again. And he says, “How did you do that?” She answers, “It’s what I do.” And the guy is baffled. “But you’re just a girl.” And Buffy sadly replies, “That’s what I keep saying.”:(

And in the series finale, Spike gives Buffy this heartfelt speech about how he loves her and “she’s the one”. And her response is, “I don’t want to be the one.” Because I think she always just takes the term “one” in connection with her, to being about how she’s the chosen one, and the only person in the world who can and does make all of these hard choices. And is surely why she finally gets to be happy in the series finale, when there are more Slayers and she doesn’t have to be the only one anymore.

I think if the series really hit on how much it hurts to be Sora, I don’t think there’d be all these arguments that he should go dark. Rather, I think everyone would be amazed by him that he remains light (as they should be).

Another thing Sora and Buffy have in common, is they both can be angsty and hurt when the situation calls for it, but also silly and happy when the reverse is needed.

Just moreso make Sora Buffy, Kingdom Hearts. He already is in a lot of ways, but do it more. Draw attention to how much he’s suffered.

Also... I’m not necessarily saying here that all of Sora’s friends should turn evil, and he needs to fight them. But rather... to show how hard he has it. And that with Buffy, was one way that that show did that.

...I should also mention the amazing thing that season one of Buffy did with its finale, where Buffy was prophesied to die when she fought that Big Bad... and she so did not want to die. And she quite being the Slayer in that moment... but she of course ended up doing the right thing in the end, because that’s who she is (she did die. She drowned. But her friend Xander was able to bring her back through mouth-to-mouth).

And I just think keeping Sora light--but with things like this to keep it interesting--would do well to separate him from characters like Riku... and show why he’s the hero of the franchise, of course, and make him even moreso Foils to characters like Xehanort, The Master of Masters, and possibly Yozora partly.

Edit: There’s also this great speech that Buffy gives when her mom finds out she’s the Slayer and hates the idea. She tells Buffy, “Well, it stops now!” And Buffy passionately answers, “It doesn’t stop! It never stops! Do you think I chose to be like this? Do you know how lonely it is? How dangerous? I would love to be up in my room, watching TV--or gossiping about boys--or God, even studying! But I have to save the world. Again.”

#have I mentioned that Buffy the vampire slayer had amazing writing? like the best ever?

11 notes · View notes

thecleverdame · 5 years

Text

This Is Not A Fairy Tale - Two

Alpha!Prince!Sam x Omega!Reader

Story Masterlist

Summary: You’re a suppressed Omega who is forced into servitude after the death of your father. Your stepmother Naomi is a heartless woman who forces you to do the cooking and cleaning, while she tries to marry off her own two daughters, Alex and Claire. But your life takes a wonderful and dangerous turn when you meet the charming Prince Sam who also happens to be an Alpha.

Warnings: ABO smut, abuse, death of parents, magic

Beta: ilikaicalie

*This story is complete and posted on Patreon. Become a patron for a monthly pledge of $2.50 and get access to all my Patreon content.

“What is wrong with you?” Dean watches his brother with a skeptical eye. “You’re this worked up about some girl you met in a field?”

“It’s more than that.” Sam looks around, ensuring they’re alone. “She’s an Omega,” he whispers.

“What?” Dean scoffs, then chuckles at the absurdity of it. “Now you’re just making things up.”

“I swear to you.” Sam is earnest, breathing fast and sweating as he looks Dean head-on. “I’ve never felt anything like it in my life.”

“You’re serious…” Dean inspects his brother. “How do you know?”

“Because I could feel her. Like how the air is alive when there’s lightning in the sky. And her scent was incomparable. No Beta has ever come close. And when I touched her, it was-”

“Touched her?” Dean smirks, then whistles. “Things progressed quickly I see.”

“You had to be there to understand, the attraction was consuming.”

“It must have been for you, a crown prince, to fuck some servant girl in the middle of a field.”

“My God.” Sam rolls his eyes. “I didn’t take her dignity there in the dirt. We just...touched.”

“I don’t need to hear any more details.” Dean raises both hands in caution. He shakes his head and pours them both a drink. “How can you be sure she was really an Omega? We’ve never met one before.”

“If you had smelled her, felt her, you’d know. She was breathtaking. I have to find her, Dean.”

“I can’t believe you let her run off.”

“She was out of sight before I could get to my horse and give chase.”

“Why would she run?”

“Any number of reasons.” Sam has given this a lot of thought. “Perhaps I was too forward. She seemed scared of something.”

“Well, any Omega tucked away in some country home is quite the secret. How old would you say she was?”

“I can’t be sure. Twenty-five, maybe older, perhaps younger.”

“Twenty-five? How the hell has she managed to keep herself hidden for that long?”

Omegas are sought after, snatched up by powerful, wealthy Alphas as soon as they come of age. While Dean has never met one, he’s heard the stories. It’s unbelievable that an Omega would make it past her fifteenth birthday without being claimed, forget twenty-five.

It would, however, make you a perfect match for his brother. Sam has just turned thirty-five and the older he gets the more he suffers. Alphas are meant to pair off, and he should have chosen a Beta long ago. He almost did, several times but couldn’t quite bring himself to make the final commitment. As he’s aged his ruts have grown more intense. If he doesn’t mate soon he’ll begin the descent into something darker, more feral. A primordial throwback to their ancestors and their parents will never allow that. The pressure has been on for some time for Sam to find a wife.

And you, well, once discovered you wouldn’t have much of a choice in the matter. All Omegas end up as mates to royalty or someone with powerful connections. Out of the options you might have, Sam is the best-case scenario. That goes without saying.

“I hate to say this, but has it occurred to you that someone has been keeping her? A duke or baron has been using her for their own. It could be the reason she ran.”

“I don’t know.”

Sam’s stomach goes tight at the very thought of someone else touching you, hurting you. He can still see your face, those shining eyes, and shy smile. There was an inherent innocence to you, the way you responded to his touch, the way you looked at him.

“I know she was terrified of being in trouble. She said she needed to get home before someone returned.”

“Well, let’s go find her.” Dean shrugs, tipping back the final vestiges of his drink. “We’ll start at the tree where you met her and search all the houses in the area. Shouldn’t take more than a day.”

Dean’s plan was a good one, with one exception; Sam can’t find his way back to the spot where he met you.

His rut is days away but in preparation he often goes for long rides to clear his head, leaving at dawn and not returning until after the sun has set. He rode for hours and hours that day, taking every side trail and galloping across meadows. He only stopped when he came across the willow tree because he was starving and needed to eat.

He found his way to you by chance and now he can’t retrace his steps for the life of him.

“Which way do you think you would have gone?” Dean asks. “Use your instincts.”

The brothers sit side by side on horseback. The trail ahead of them forks off in half a dozen directions.

“The far path to the right I think...no wait...I’m not sure.” Sam runs a hand over his face.

Being with you for such a short time only to be ripped away feels like a simmering panic. He has no idea how it’s possible that he wants someone he hardly knows with this passionate desperation, but he does.

“Maybe we should ride back from the castle. Do you remember the way you took to get home? We could backtrack.”

“I don’t think I can.” Sam balls his fist around the reigns. “I rode looking for her for an hour and then came back. I was so worked up, I don’t remember which way was which.”

“Well,” Dean nods, a hand on his hip as he thinks. “Why don’t we go home and talk to our lovely mother. She’ll be thrilled at the prospect of an Omega for you. I’m sure she’ll have a few ideas on how to find her. She always does.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Alex snips, tapping at the shell of her boiled egg.

“Nothing,” you murmur, snapping out of your daydream.

“She’s more melancholy than usual.” Claire gives you a smarmy little grin and butters her toast.

“Is there something wrong?” Naomi asks, resting both palms on the table. You shake your head no and pour hot water for her tea.

“Just a bit tired.” You force a smile.

The truth is you feel like death. The herbs you’re forced to drink have always sucked the life from you, but after that afternoon with Sam, it’s only gotten worse. Yesterday you could barely stay awake through lunch. You’re not ignorant. While you don’t know all the ins and outs of what you are, you understand the basic mechanics. Being around an Alpha has awakened something inside you that’s been fighting to get out for some time.

There’s a ring of the bell at the front door and you hurry to answer it. The courier is a young boy. He hands you a message and blows a sweet little kiss before scampering away. You bring the carefully rolled parchment to Naomi.

The royal seal gets her attention. That signature gold melted wax can only mean one thing.

“What is it?” Claire asks.

“Tell us what it says!” Alex chimes in, smacking her fists on the table.

“Shh,” Naomi hushes them as she unrolls the paper and scans the message. A wide smile blooms across her face. She looks up at her daughters with bubbling excitement. Sitting up straight, she’s unable to contain the terrifying grin across her face as she reads aloud. “King John and Queen Mary cordially invite you to a royal ball in honor of Prince Samuel. Every eligible woman in the kingdom is expected to be in attendance.”

“A ball!” Alex’s eyes light up.

“Can we pick our own dresses?” Claire asks. “I shall wear my red velvet with lace trimming.”

“Do either of you realize what this means?” Naomi hisses, slapping an open palm on the table to silence the room. “They are holding a ball in honor of the prince. They’re looking for a suitable wife. It’s about time, he should have been married off long ago. But other’s poor judgment is our good fortune. My daughters, I need you to understand, you are both excellent candidates, with your background and unmatched bloodline. You are both beautiful young women. A man of his age would certainly be happy to have either of you in his bed.”

“Oh, do you think so?” Alex claps her hands together in excitement. “Well, I shall wear just a simple skirt but put my coat with the golden flowers over it and, of course, there's always my diamond necklace, which is really rather special. I imagine a prince would appreciate understated elegance.”

“Oh my God,” Claire giggles placing a hand over her mouth.

You’re frozen, hearing the sound of chattering voices but absorbing none of it. Two opposing thoughts are swimming in your head.

You let him put his hand up your skirt under a tree in the middle of a field. Any woman with any self-respect would not have invited a stranger to touch her in such a way. You came on the ground like a whore in the streets. A Prince, a man of his social graces would never want a woman who was so willing to offer up her body to the first man that came along. Sam, a man of a certain age, who needs to marry sooner rather than later. Perhaps you were a meaningless little fling before he’s expected to settle down for good.

But there’s also the other possibility. What if he were willing to overlook your scandalous encounter because of what you are? What if he’s expecting you to attend? What if this is his way of looking for you? You can scarcely stand that thought without feeling lightheaded. You felt what he felt, the charge in the air when you were near and the wild excitement when he scented you. Perhaps this is how every Omega responds to an Alpha, you wouldn’t know, but it felt like something special.

“Every eligible woman in the kingdom?” you ask and their voices go silent. The three women stare at you and Alex bursts out laughing. “I just, I’ve never been to a ball. I would like to go.”

“You?” Claire sputters, joining her sister. “Covered in muck and soot! What would you even wear?”

“She’d leave a trail of cinders behind her,” Alex snickers.

Naomi knows the gravity of your question. She understands the power of what you are even when you don’t. Any Omega, despite her title or appearance, would certainly be the first choice for an Alpha prince. And if Sam rejected you there’s a chance the King and Queen would consider annulling the marriage of their oldest son to pair him with an Omega of childbearing age.

She wants this prize for one of her own daughters and she’ll do whatever she needs to ensure you stay as far away from the royal family as possible.

“Y/N, dear,” she offers a sad little pout and extends her hand toward you. “The invitation said all eligible women. You are far from eligible. Look at you, coated in ashes and little more than skin and bones. We wouldn’t want to disrespect such a generous offer by bringing a scraggly little thing such as you, now would we? And I certainly can’t ruin your sister's chances with the Prince. This is serious.”

She only refers to Alex and Claire as your sisters when she wants to make a point.

You nod in silent understanding, holding back tears. It’s likely you will never see your handsome Prince again and you only have yourself to blame. But he’s better off with you. You’re a broken, withering woman whose life has been coming to an end for some time. You were condemned to a lifetime of misery the day you buried your father.

For two weeks you live the hell that is preparing Alex and Claire for the ball.

All they talk of is dresses and hairstyles and what other women will be their competition for the Prince’s attention. You try to cover up your disappointment but it gets proportionally more difficult as the date approaches. The longer you’re away from Sam the more the memory of his face fades away, and the less you can remember the details of what he felt like as doubt creeps in.

By the night of the ball, you’ve convinced yourself that you made up some preposterous connection to a man who was hoping to bed a servant girl in the woods. You’ve romanticized a man’s basic urges and created reciprocity that simply cannot exist.

“How does it look?” Alex inquires, reaching for her hand mirror and holding it up.

You slide the last hairpin into place and hold up another mirror for her to inspect your work.

“Oh, it’s actually good.” She eyes herself, pursing her lips in a practiced pout. “Not bad for someone who’s hands won’t stop shaking.”

“I’m glad you like it.” You brace your hands together, subduing the tremors.

“I’m next!” Claire runs into the room, pushing her sister out of the chair before taking her place. “Make it quick, we need to leave soon.”

“I’ll work as fast as I can.” Your eyes are heavy. You scrubbed pots and cleaned floors all day. Naomi picked today of all days to give the house a proper cleaning from top to bottom.

“Y/N,” Claire looks at her sister and fights back a chuckle. “Would you like to go to the ball yourself?”

“Please don’t make fun of me.” You whisper. “There’s no way I could go.”

“Quite right too: everyone would laugh to see Cinderbritches at a ball.” Both girls break out in a fit of laughter and you try to focus on her hair, instead of the sorrow swelling up inside you.

“I hate it when you call me that,” you tell them softly.

“Always so sensitive.” Claire rolls her eyes. “Hurry up! I want to get there!”

Once the girls are styled and polished Naomi loads them into the carriage and returns to the kitchen to find you.

“Have you forgotten something?” you ask, wiping your forehead of sweat as you clean a pot.

“Only one thing.” She lifts her chin, mouth in a tight grimace. “Come with me.”

You follow her down into the basement, to your makeshift room amongst the clutter.

“Over here,” she moves to the corner, bending down to pick something up. Once it’s in her hand you realize what it is. A metal chain with a cuff attached to the end.

“Don’t, please,” you panic, stepping back. “I beg you, don’t chain me up.”

“I’ll take the switch to you here and now if you don’t do as I say.”

You could run or fight, but you don’t have the energy for either so you walk over to her and watch as she kneels down and locks the metal around your ankle.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask. Tears stream down your face as you let emotion overtake you. “Please, it’s too tight. It hurts.”

“We both know what a sneaky thing you are. I remember what you were like as a girl.” She rubs her hands, looking satisfied.

“I can’t reach the fire from here, or my blankets in the corner. Will you hand them to me?”

“You’ll be fine for one night.” She sneers, looking at you as if the sight of you offends her very senses. “Take this time to think about what and who you are. Knowing her place is the best attribute a woman can have and you are nothing more than a mistake.”

She kicks the toe of her shoe into your stomach with enough force to knock the air from your lungs. You lie on the stone, writhing in pain and sobbing in despair as the sun sets over the horizon.

You wake up to a small squeaking sound. When your eyes flutter open it’s dark. But after you adjust you’re met with the sight of a small white mouse nosing his way around your hand. There are plenty of nasty rats that chew holes in nearly everything, you hate those little beasts, but this small mouse has been coming to you in the evenings for a year now.

“Hello my friend,” you whisper, lying limp on the ground as a fresh tear slides over your temple. “At least I’m not alone tonight.”

You watch as the mouse cleans his tiny face with a pink paw, smiling softly at the sweetness of such a simple thing. If you die down here, at least someone will miss you, a rodent but it’s better than simply vanishing and leaving no trace.

“Hello?” A musical, airy voice calls out from somewhere upstairs. “Hello? Is anyone here?”

Wiping your nose you gather your strength, propping yourself on one arm.

“Who’s there?” you yell back.

“Where are you?” The voice asks, getting closer. “I’m looking for Y/N.”

“I’m here.” You wait as soft footsteps descend toward the basement and a petit redheaded woman emerges from the dark with a flickering candle in her hand.

“What in the world are you doing down here?” She looks around and you move to sit as the chain rattles. Her eyes dart to the metal around your ankle. “Now, now, what do we have here?”

“Do you think you can help me?” you ask. “I think my stepmother keeps the key upstairs, in a jewelry box in her room.”

“Don’t be silly dear,” she crouches down, offering a genuine smile. “We don’t need all that.”

She snaps her fingers and sparks fly. In the same instant, the metal cuff falls open. You look at her in astonishment and she just smirks.

“Nothing a little magic can’t fix.”

“What are you?”

“There are many names for what I do, but I don’t like any of them. To you, I’m Rowena, your Godmother I suppose. A sort of, fairy godmother.”

“I don’t understand.” She offers her hand to help you up.

“I’ll explain. Let’s go upstairs to the fire and warm you up.”

Rowena makes you tea and explains that she knew your mother well. They grew up together in Scotland and stayed in touch throughout the years but grew farther and farther apart as time went by.

“I thought it was time I paid you a visit. I never dreamed I’d find the daughter of Ellen and Robert Singer chained up in a dirty coal room.” She pours you another cup of special tea. She insisted you drink it and as you have, the more you perk up, energy building for the first time in a long time. “Where is the lady of the house?”

“At the ball.” You sigh, looking down at the mug in your hands. “Every woman in the Kingdom was invited. The prince is expected to find his wife tonight.”

“Why are you here?”

“Look at me,” you snort. “Sam wouldn’t want to so much as look at me in this state.”

“Sam,” she coos, eyebrows wiggling. “Do I hear a hint of familiarity?”

“We met. It was only once but he was...wonderful.” You blush, swallowing the rest of the tea.

“Well, you must get you back to your prince.” Rowena spreads her arms wide. “We can’t have you sitting here dreaming of a future. You have to go out and make things happen. Take what you want from life.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Look at me? What would I even wear? I couldn’t even borrow a dress, they would hang off me.”

“Don’t you worry about that.” She smiles, patting your shoulder. “I know a trick or two.”

*This story is complete and posted on Patreon. Become a patron for a monthly pledge of $2.50 and get access to all my Patreon content.

#sam winchester x reader #alpha!sam winchester #alpha!sam x omega!reader #sam winchester smut

296 notes · View notes

lia-jones · 4 years

Text

Growing Pains - Chapter Fifteen - Wish Tree

Victor sat me on my bed, carefully, kneeling on the floor and taking my foot in my hands.

“It doesn’t look broken. Does it hurt when I do this?” Victor asked, rotating my ankle.

“I told you my foot is fine. Is this what all of that was about?” I asked coldly, referring to him insisting to carry me.

Victor raised his eyebrows.

“Are you mad? Why do you care what those people think?”

“Shouldn’t I? Aren’t you the one always telling me not to embarrass myself?”

Victor looked down, apparently lost in thought, absentmindedly massaging my foot in his hands. I remembered how he held me in my apartment, when I was falling apart. The anger miraculously vanished.

“The other day, in my apartment…” I started. “I’m sorry I dumped it all on you. It’s a heavy subject.”

Victor looked up to me, a touch of surprise in his eyes.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“It’s ok, I know that’s probably why you’ve been keeping your distance. It’s too much. It’s not the first time I had friends avoiding me because they didn’t know how to handle the subject. It’s hard to deal with, I get it. I actually don’t blame you.” I kept my expression and tone sweet and calm. I didn’t want him to feel guilty about it. However, as I looked in his eyes, I could see nothing but guilt.

“That’s… That’s not why.” Victor sighed. “The morning I saw you with Levi… And then when you asked me why I was there in the first place… It made me wonder if I have been forcing myself into your life.”

“Levi?” I frowned. “I told you before, I’m not that close to Levi. I haven’t even seen him since that morning.”

“He doesn’t know?” Victor seemed surprised.

“About my close encounter with Ted? No.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

“I didn’t need another person babying me. I have you already.” I feigned annoyance. Victor smiled.

“Why would you think you were forcing yourself into my life?” I looked him in the eyes. Victor sighed.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“You mean the producer?” Victor’s eyes widened in surprise. “You know how gossip works.” I grimaced inside, wondering if he could track my words back to Goldman. But Victor was oblivious to that at the moment, his eyes low to the ground, a sad look on his face.

“Do you still love her?” I asked. Victor sat by my side on the bed, admiring the view through my window.

“She was an important and painful chapter in my life. And I did love her. I thought I wouldn’t ever love anyone else.” He paused, letting out a deep breath. “As far as I was concerned, she was the one I was going to spend the rest of my life with. It was fate, it was meant to be. No one else could take her place.”

“What went wrong?” I asked, already knowing the answer. But I wanted to hear it from him. See how invested he still was in his past.

“Nothing went wrong, exactly, because we had no relationship to begin with. Every time I would imply something more serious, she would blush or act embarrassed, and somehow I convinced myself it was because she was still very young and naïve. Truth is, it was all in my head. She had no problem dating another man and marrying him. I was the one forcing my way into her life, trying desperately to fit in there.”

“That must’ve been hard.” I felt like resting my head on his shoulders, give him some warmth. Obviously I didn’t.

“Yes. I wanted to be the one that would make her laugh, give her comfort, and it hurt to know that I wasn’t. It’s not that I have low self-esteem, but I know I am not an easy person.”

“Understatement of the year.” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Shut up.” I could see a faint smile trying to creep in. "Anyway, as time went by, I realized something.”

“What was that?”

“That I’m too stubborn for my own benefit. It dawned on me that, even though I did love her, or thought I did, I didn’t like her very much. She was a handful.”

“Well, some girls are high maintenance.” I quipped.

“Saying she was high maintenance would actually be the understatement of the year.” Victor chuckled. “She was extremely clumsy and innocent, always sticking her foot in her mouth, it was a disaster sometimes. And although I called it endearing, I hated it. To be honest, I think I created an image of perfection about her over the years and held on tight to it, but I didn’t stop to evaluate my feelings for her. I wanted so bad to reach the destination that I didn’t even care to see if I was enjoying the trip. And when I realized that, she simply slipped my mind.”

Even though Victor told me he didn’t love her anymore, I couldn’t help but feel jealous for the girl that was such a big chapter in his life.

“You must be tired from the flight. I should let you rest.” Victor cleared his throat, getting up. I felt my chest tighten. I missed him. I didn’t want him to leave.

“At what time should I meet you at the lobby?” I asked.

“Our visit to Mr. Mills orchard is scheduled to 10 am. Have a good rest. I'll see you at 9 am.”

“Victor?” I called, before he walked out the door.

“Yes?”

“For whatever it’s worth, you didn’t force yourself into my life. All the moments you were there, I wanted you there, even if sometimes I didn’t know it at first. And they wouldn’t be the same without you.” I mustered the courage to say.

Victor walked slowly to me. He bent down slightly and reached for my face, gently stroking my cheek.

“I mean it, I’m not saying it because…“ Because you showed me your fragile side, I thought.

“Thank you.” His hand was still on my face, tracing my jawline softly.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment. He tilted my head up and gave me a soft kiss on the forehead.

“Get some rest.” He looked me in the eyes, his expression one I couldn’t figure out. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I watched him walk out the door, my heart thumping hard in my chest.

I woke up slowly the next morning, the rays of sunshine beautifully bathing my room. Unexpectedly, it was sunny outside. I looked at the clock, it was 8:20. I had overslept for 20 minutes.

I ran to shower and got dressed in record time. As I was leaving my room I was startled by Victor, standing right next to me, doing the exact same thing as I was.

“Where are you coming from?” I asked, surprised.

“Our rooms are adjacent. Didn’t you notice the locked door?”

“Actually, I was wondering what that door was for… Maybe a secret door to Narnia.” I said playfully, as we waited for the elevator.

“Narnia?” Victor frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“The Chronicles of Narnia? The movie?” Victor glared at me. “Ok, never mind.” I gave up.

“No heels today.” He looked down at my flats. “Wise choice.”

“We are visiting an orchard. I didn’t think it was wise. So, where are we getting breakfast?”

“I thought we could benefit from the sudden good weather and have breakfast outdoors. I know a great patisserie nearby. Are you ok to walk? Or do you need me to carry you?” Victor mocked.

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” I said, making Victor chuckle.

After breakfast, we drove to Mr. Mills orchard. The place was idyllic, beautiful trees still bearing the autumn colors in its leaves lining up on the sides of the road, and making infinite rows through the field. Mr. Mills greeted us like we were family, inviting us inside his manor, serving us tea and a fruit platter he made himself. Victor and Mr. Mills had a sort of odd familiarity with each other, like they knew each other for a long time, almost like they were good old friends. To make things even weirder, Mr. Mills addressed Victor as Boss.

“I was so happy when the Boss told me he would be bringing you here. Finally you get to visit my orchard.” Mr. Mills smiled widely at me.

“It’s a pleasure.” I smiled back. “Your orchard is beautiful.”

“Maybe next time the Boss can bring you during Spring or Summer, during harvest season. Sometimes tourists ask us to participate in the harvest, and enjoy our after-work parties.” Mr. Mills explained. “We are between harvests right now, just taking care of the land. We have already finished the last summer harvest, and are waiting for the winter harvest, for citrus fruits. Eating an orange right out from the tree is a whole new experience.”

“If Andrea wants to come, I’m more than happy to bring her.” Victor quipped. I blushed, not exactly sure why.

We took a tour through the orchard, and Mr. Mills explained to us how everything worked: how fruits were picked from the tree with love, so they wouldn’t turn ugly or oxidize as easily when cut, or how after each day of work there would be a small party to show gratitude to nature, among other little superstitions that brought color to the life in the orchard and, surprisingly enough, didn’t make Victor’s eyes roll.

Mr. Mills led us to a pond from which the whole orchard was watered. By the pond, there was a weeping willow tree, almost naked due to the season, with colored ribbons tied to its branches. I was amazed by the tree’s beauty, and curious about the ribbons.

“Who decorated the tree?” I ask, my heart jumping with curiosity. “It’s amazing.”

“People from the village, the workers. They call it a wish tree. I like to call it Hope Tree. The ribbons have words in it, if you take a closer look. They write a quote, a wish, a thought, something positive that they are thankful for or want to see more of in their lives, and tie it to the tree, to connect it with nature and bond it with their lives. To make it natural, in more meanings than one.”

My eyes widened when Mr. Mills extracted from his pocket two purple ribbons.

“I would be honored if the Boss and you left a message on the tree. Anything you want, as long as its coming from your soul.” He handed a pen and a ribbon to Victor. When he gave me the same similar items, his hand lingered in mine.

“Do you know the meaning of purple, Miss Jones?” He smiled meaningfully.

“No, not really.” I grimaced.

“It can mean many things, actually. Purple is considered the color of strength, but not the strength that comes from here” Mr. Mills touched my arm. “But from here.” He touched my chest. “Also is the mix of two colors, red, that is a bridal color, and also means good luck, and blue, that represents growth and healing. Can you understand the message?”

“You wish me to heal, to grow and to love?” I smiled.

“You are very bright, Miss Jones. In more meanings than one.” Mr. Mills squeezed my hand. “Now don’t let an old man stop you. Go write your wish and tie it to that tree.” Mr. Mills said, pointing to a stone table with benches near the tree.

I sat and looked at my ribbon, pen in hand, wondering what I was going to write. I decided on a quote I read online. I took the pen and started writing on my ribbon.

“What are you going to write on your ribbon?” Victor asked, already done with his.

“I’m not telling you. It’s personal.” I joked, hiding my ribbon with my arm.

“Aren’t curious to know what I’ve written?”

“I am, but I’m not going to ask you because I know it’s probably personal.” I said, glaring at him.

“Fine, I won’t ask anymore. I’m going to tie mine to the tree so you won’t see where it is.” He joked.

I read my ribbon. It said: When surrounded by darkness, may you find the light in yourself.

I walked to the tree and, to my disappointment, noticed that the lowest branches had no space left for my ribbon.

“I can lift you, if you want.” I heard the low voice mocking me. I felt like sticking my tongue out, but he was right. I could use his help.

“You don’t mind?” I asked casually, like having the CEO carrying me once again was the most natural thing in the world. It wasn’t.

He stood in front of me and bent his knees to make himself slightly shorter than me.

“Grab my shoulders to steady yourself.”

I supported myself on top of his shoulders and he lifted me with ease, grabbing the back of my knees, as I tied my ribbon to the closest tall branch.

“I need just a second more. Don’t let go of me, ok?” I warned, as I struggled with the ribbon.

“Never.” He spoke softly.

After I was done, he loosened his grip on my legs, making me slowly slide down, using his body as support. We stood like that for a moment, looking in each other’s eyes, our bodies touching.

“Thanks.” I broke eye contact, so I wouldn’t give in temptation and kiss him.

The trip to the hotel was a silent one. Victor was probably tired, and I had this whirlwind of emotions inside that I was trying to keep at bay. The last hours had been a beautiful experience with Victor, and it was almost over, since the following day I was flying back to Loveland. And for a minute I left myself wonder if these moments meant to Victor as much as they meant to me.

“What are you doing tonight?” Victor broke the silence.

“Well, if you have nothing else for me to do, pretty much pack and sleep.”

Victor was silent for a moment.

“Come have dinner with me.”

“Sure. What time should I meet you?”

“No. I don’t mean for work. I’m not asking you as your boss.”

I didn’t know what to say. Victor’s expression fell slightly.

“You are allowed to say no if you don’t want to.” His voice felt tired again.

“What if I don’t want to say no?” I smiled at Victor. He smiled back.

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

#Growing Pains - Series #growingpains #mlqc victor #victor x oc #mlqc li zeyan #love and producer #mister love queens choice #mlqc fanfic

10 notes · View notes

takaraphoenix · 4 years

Text

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Season 6

1. Favorite character of this season?

I absolutely love how they dedicated this season to Buffy's issues. She died. And was ripped out of heaven. She lost her mom and was suddenly forced into being the adult in the house. It's so much and she gets to break about it. Yes, she hurts the people around her, but honestly... it kind of figures? How is one supposed to adjust to what she is trying to adjust to? But over the season, the wake-up calls she gets – the asylum episode, Dawn's stealing, Willow's addiction and then the grand finale that makes her realize she wants to be in this world – it's so great, because it goes... slowly.

My biggest issue with most modern TV is that it's basically torture porn. The main character is put through impossibly traumatizing ordeals but is never even given the chance to cope, to try and deal with it. The issues are never addressed, only glossed over because actually dealing with them would require care and good writing and take time away from all the other drama going on! So characters are only traumatized for shock-value and then are immediately over it, even though it's unrealistic.

This season is a season of trauma. A season of bad coping mechanism, of pushing people away but still seeking someone where she can feel safe – Spike. She slowly has to relearn to open up and let them in, she has to learn to want to live again. And it's hard. And the show doesn't shy away from it, it doesn't shy away from her making the wrong choices, because... there is no one right choice that is obvious when dealing with the trauma she has faced.

2. Outstanding minor character (positive or negative)?

Negative. Jonathan. I just... I really truly hate that Jonathan is in the trio. Of all people, Jonathan. The one who gave Buffy her class-protector award with that heart-warming speech. Buffy was the one person who saved him, personally, when he wanted to commit suicide. Even after the Jonathan Superstar episode, Buffy was gentle and understanding with him. It just... for him, to turn supervillain like that was incredibly disappointing for me.

3. Favorite character dynamic?

I genuinely love the Tara-Dawn dynamic. Tara and Willow raised her for months while Buffy was dead. But the Giles-Anya dynamic is also so great – I'm very soft for the way Anya points out her hair is blonde in the finale like “Buffy is getting hugs for short hair. I too would like a hug”.

4. Favorite canon romantic ship?

Buffy and Spike... in the first half of the season. The way she found him to open up to, he was the only one she voluntarily told about having been in heaven. She finds a connection to him. The way he loves her – that he stayed, for months, even though she was dead, because he had promised her to take care of Dawn and he didn't just do that, he helped the Scoobies protect Sunnydale. He had no reason to and it still... it bothers me so much that everyone continuously belittles Spike's love for Buffy like it's not there. If he was only lusting after her, he would have ditched town after her death, he wouldn't have helped defend Sunnydale and take care of Dawn.

5. Least favorite canon romantic ship?

I'm having flashbacks here but it's a tie and it's because of shit decisions Xander and Willow made.

It's strange, I want to love Willow and – as a friend – she is a great character, but she's just... a shitty partner? She cheated on Oz for weeks or months with Xander and now she used magic to play with Tara's mind. That is so... violating and disturbing and that, after Tara found out and confronted her about it and pointed out how incredibly wrong that was, even more so with Tara's past, Willow just went and immediately did it again. And this isn't something you can blame the addiction for; this was just “I don't want my girlfriend mad at me so I'll erase her memories”. It's... just so bad.

The other being Xander and Anya, even though I love Xander and Anya together, but... the entire season was a steady build-up to “Xander REALLY doesn't wanna get married”, literally from the first episode on. He tried to hide the engagement as long as possible. Then he just... makes these disturbed faces every time someone brings up the married life. They had a whole sing and dance number about their doubts. It's just so very evidently clear that he doesn't want to get married, but he takes until the wedding itself to realize and just... leaves Anya at the altar and then thinks he can get her back? Genuinely thinks they could just go back to being in a relationship? But after leaving her at the altar acting like she owes him something – when he watches her and Spike have sex?

Sometimes, it feels like Xander and Willow really live to sabotage their own happiness.

6. Favorite episode?

Once More With Feeling – it's just one of the most outstanding episodes, really! The songs are so brilliant, the emotional arcs this episode for everyone – from the Spuffy to the per-marital issues between Anya and Xander to Tara and Giles' doubts. It's really brilliant. Many shows after have tried to make a musical episode happen and, with luck, they're fun or comic-relief, but... none have lived up to the standard set by this one.

7. Least favorite episode?

Oh, that's an easy one. 6x19 Seeing Red, where they made... Spike, at this point honestly, completely OoC by having him try to rape Buffy. That will never come off as anything but OoC, not after all that has happened between them. Yes, they are violent with each other – but that's a mutual thing, they hurt each other. This was... terrifying to watch as a teen and it hasn't stopped being upsetting and disturbing. And then they top the episode off with Tara being fridged.

I know fridging is technically the act of killing a female character for the sake of a male character's suffering, but... it's gay fridging? It's not even entirely a Bury Your Gay; Tara dies specifically for the pain and suffering of her lover. After everything Tara's been through in life and after everything Willow has put her through this season, they barely just rekindled... and she gets killed off.

8. Favorite Monster Of The Week?

Aesthetically and what he brought to the show? Sweet from Once More, With Feeling.

But I think that Stewart from Hell's Bells also really stood out. The fact that Anya's past came back to haunt her – because she was a demon for a century and she tortured people for a living. She doesn't even remember this guy whose life she ruined and he comes in to ruin her wedding. And in the end... he wasn't even the one to ruin it, the viewer gets one last moment of hope when it's revealed this was a fake-out, that he was not “Xander from the future” but a vengeful demon... but even without Stewart, the wedding didn't happen.

9. Least favorite Monster Of The Week?

Not too many monsters of the week going on, really. Probably Wig Lady from 6x12 Doublemeat Palace, because all the implications of cannibalism in that episode were really very disturbing.

10. Rate the overarching villain!

Brilliant. 10/10. Holds up so well.

Seriously, there is this... frustrating part where Xander's character just does not hold up at all because of the casual sexism and gross over-sexualization of his female friends. Which figures, because that's how a Nice Nerdy Guy was defined in the 90s (and, if you look at modern TV aimed at nerdy guys like The Big Bang Theory, still is). It's just a trope from TV and movies that for some reason really worked back then but nowadays when we look at sexism and the behavior of men toward women with different eyes, it is really appalling and upsetting.

In the case of the nerd trio, this worked out really well for the show, because it only makes them even more effective villains. They are ridiculous losers, total nerds who think they are owed womens' attention. Their schemes are literally straight out of comics but for the dumbest purposes – they make an invisibility ray so they can go into a women's only spa to spy on naked ladies. They create mind-control devices but for the purpose of enslaving women into their sex-puppets.

It is so gross, so ridiculous and inexplicably still somehow funny, because it's straight out of comics. Freeze-rays? Invisibility-rays? Self-destructing lairs? Jet-packs? It is not out of this world, this isn't how Buffy the Vampire Slayer operates, this is a show about monsters and demons and they're turning it into a whacky scifi show and it works.

Then there's the fact that they're just... three dumb losers? I mean, last season, Buffy literally slayed a god. Shows like to escalate. The Big Bads become bigger and badder each season, but... where do you go after you killed a god? Instead of trying to immediately one-up the villain factor, they did something incredibly brilliant. They took all the steps back.

The villains aren't the focus of this season. The focus of this season is what I answered in the first part of this post. Buffy's mental health and readjustment. You can't only focus on that though, you do need a villain and for that, an overarching villain of some loser nerd bois who fail the majority of time are perfect. They're nuisances that make Buffy's life marginally harder at times, but they're not an overall, serious, actual threat that may end the world.

And still they... got Tara killed. In such a... human manner. An angry man-child who hates women comes in with a gun and shoots her. And there's nothing the demon-slaying good guys can do about it. The bullet hits – not the target it was intended for – and takes an innocent life. Just like that, Warren manages what the hellish bad guys from previous seasons hadn't managed; he kills a Scoobie. Angelus killed Jenny, Drusilla killed Kendra, those were the only major deaths at the hands of villains that we had on this show so far and both were minor characters.

Bonus: Other thoughts?

Dawn was so draining this season; she got better in the last quarter of the season but the majority of it... The stealing, the behavior, the blaming Buffy for absolutely everything – Willow got addicted to magic, it's Buffy's fault, they have no money and Buffy has to go and work to earn money and it's Buffy's fault that she's not home, Buffy died to save Dawn and somehow it's Buffy's fault too because she left Dawn. Just... how can you possibly be this self-centered...? It's so exhausting, even more so in the season that has Buffy suffering the most and instead of being a supportive, helpful sister, Dawn acts like she's the victim of everything...

And I understand, Dawn has been through a lot too – losing her mother, losing Buffy, learning she isn't human but just a mass of energy – but there is a difference between suffering yourself and placing all the blame on other people and pretending that the world is against you, instead of tackling your own issues and problems yourself? And stealing from your friends, at that.

And no, being fifteen isn't an excuse for not seeing beyond yourself. Fifteen year olds are sure old enough to be self-aware... This “fifteen year olds only see themselves and only care about their own suffering and everybody else is to be blamed for how shit their life is” is just... another cringey Teen Girl Trope. Seriously, why did they just cram every single bad trope into this character...

#Buffy the Vampire Slayer #Buffy Review #Phoe Watching Buffy #Season 6

10 notes · View notes

yergink · 4 years

Text

Bravery and a Bowline Ch.4

Starting right where last chapter left off! A bit shorter since it’s basically a part 2 to last chapter. About 2.5k words.

First Chapter

Crossposted to Ao3

Summary: A couple of missed parties return to camp, and Willow and Walter talk about bravery.

Includes very slightly implied Willow/Wilson

When the dawn light peeks over the wall of the camp, casting long shadows over the dew-moist grass, Willow is awoken by the patter of footsteps and the trill of voices accompanying them.

Before she even gets a chance to open her eyes, someone is shaking her. She blinks them open to meet eight more above her, set in a fuzzy dark face.

“They’re back!” Webber just about shouts in her ear. Willow winces, squinting and sitting up slowly with a yawn. She stretches her arms above her head, blearily watching as the camp gate opens, letting in a very chipper looking Wilson with Ms. Wickerbottom following behind him.

They’re both carrying backpacks and looking somewhat encumbered by the weight. Wilson slides his off next to the alchemy engine, and it lands with a heavy thud. He groans, rubbing his shoulder, but overall he looks rather pleased.

“We’re back,” he says, looking to Willow.

She crosses her arms. “I’ve noticed.” She stands, hurrying to help Wickerbottom with her backpack. “What took you all so long?”

“The underground is not the easiest to traverse, dear,” the older woman answers for the two of them, placatingly. “We may have underestimated our travel time.” Wilson, occupied with unpacking their spoils, does not give a reply.

After setting Wickerbottom’s pack on the ground beside him, Willow says, “You just missed the hounds.” It’s an effort to get his attention. Wilson just nods, clearly distracted. “I see.”

She purses her lips in frustration, and she’s just opened her mouth to make a remark about seeing where his priorities lay when she’s interrupted. Wickerbottom, clearly sensing the tension, quickly asks, “How are the children?”

Oh, right. Willow straightens her back and gives a thumbs up. “All good, Ms. Wicker! I told you I was responsible. Although, there is something--”

“Willow?” Walter’s voice is soft as he interrupts, and she turns to see him just barely peeking out from the tent. Wickerbottom gives a small gasp upon seeing him, her eyes widening behind her glasses.

“Oh, goodness. Who is this young man?”

“I’m Walter, ma’am,” he answers before Willow can get a word in. She hurries to explain.

“He got here a few days after you two left. He’s, uh.. new.”

Walter takes a hesitant step out of the tent, and Willow internally groans, knowing that the first thing the older woman’s sharp eyes are going to see is the bandage around his leg.

Sure enough, Wickerbottom gets right to the point. She points to the bandages. “What happened there, dear?”

“He got a little nip during the hound attack, but I fixed him all up,” Willow assures. Although it doesn’t do her much but get her a disbelieving look from Wickerbottom. It’s not the first time anyone’s been disappointed in her, but it still stings a bit.

“I’ll take a look at it,” the librarian decides, stepping forward and patting Walter’s shoulder to push him back towards the tent.

“It’s really okay. I’m fine, ma’am,” Walter insists, although it’s not enough to keep Wickerbottom from ushering him away, insisting on taking a proper look. Willow doesn’t know whether to feel insulted or reassured that she’s going to check her handiwork.

She feels a touch at her side and glances down to see Webber shyly pulling on the hem of her sweater. “We think you did a very good job watching us, Ms. Willow!” Webber beams. He’s so cheerful, Willow can’t help but smile, even if she doesn’t necessarily think she did a very good job at all.

“Thanks,” she says, patting him on the head. “Hey, go find Wendy and let her know they’re back, okay?”

“Okay!” He chirps, practically skipping out of the camp. Willow waits until she’s deemed him out of earshot before turning to where Wilson is still knelt by the machine.

She anchors her hands on her hips. “So, how was the trip?”

The man wipes at his forehead with the back of his forearm, clearing some of the cave dust still clinging to his skin. “It wasn’t easy,” he says, and Willow believes it. He’s got several cuts on his face, one of which is still oozing blood, as well as bandages peeking out from under his sleeve and at his collarbone. It could have been worse though, she knows. At least he wasn’t coming home a ghost.

Hesitantly, she says, “I was worried about you, y’know.”

Wilson blinks, cocking his head to one side, looking almost baffled when he turns to face her. “Really?”

She scoffs. “Yeah, really.” She flicks his forehead, causing him to sputter and bat at her hand to get her away. “You’re such a nerd,” she teases.

“I’ve been told,” he deadpans. He glances over at the tent. “So. A new arrival, huh?”

“Yup,” Willow pops the word, plopping on the ground beside him. “Y’know, he’s kind of a nerd too. I think you’ll get along.”

He sighs at that, but Willow knows it’s more amused than annoyed. “All the same, I think it would be better if we could have never met.” He looks back to the bag in front of him. “It never feels good to see more children here.”

Willow shuffles closer to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Yeah,” she mumbles. “Especially not when you nearly get them killed.”

“Is that bitterness I’m hearing?”

She shrugs, somewhat dismissively. “I dunno. I guess I wasn’t paying enough attention to him during the hound attack, and that’s why he got hurt. And it feels sucky.”

Wilson hums. “Well, it could have been worse, couldn’t it?”

She snorts. “That’s not the point.”

“Well if you’re feeling bad, maybe you should talk to him about it.” He nudges her off his shoulder. “Go on. I’m busy.”

“No you’re not,” Willow argues, nudging him back.

“I’m about to be.” He draws out a shimmering green gem from the pack. “We discovered several of these while underground, and their properties aren’t like any gem I’ve seen before. I have a few ideas for experiments--”

Willow shoves herself off him. “Okay I get it, I’m going! You don’t have to kill me with your boring science stuff.” Wilson smiles innocently at her as she stands, and she sticks her tongue out at him before leaving him to it.

She meanders out of the gates, starting down the fields and towards the edge of the island. There’s a makeshift dock by the shoreline, with short walls built around it, protecting where the boat is anchored. It’s one of Wilson’s pet projects, something he’s been busying himself with constructing lately. Willow finds herself there soon, and she hops atop one of the walls and sits down. She watches the gentle waves lap at the pebbles of the shore.

As much as she’s gotten used to being around the others, she misses having time to herself. Over the years, she’d learned to treasure solitude. It was something she’d gotten so little of during the time she spent in the orphanage, and her independence had shaped her, had made her strong.

But mostly, she just wants some space to feel bad without anyone bothering her about it. Because when she closes her eyes she keeps thinking about the sight of Walter on the ground, clutching at his bloodied leg, and she can’t shake the feeling that it’s definitely her fault. Shaking her head to try and clear the images, she draws a few bits of grass from her pockets and lights them, watching the blades shrivel and blacken, streams of smoke rising into the air. It’s calming. She breathes in the smell of the fire and tries to think of anything else.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t get much of a chance to do so.

There’s the faint sound of someone calling her name, getting steadily louder. Willow perks at the sound of it, crushing the still-smoking tufts into ash in her palm before twisting around to see. It’s Walter, shuffling down the hillside to meet her by the dock. He skids across the wet grass, grabbing onto the wall for balance. She notices that Woby is noticeably absent from his side, probably napping back at camp.

“Hi,” he raises one hand to wave. “Mr. Wilson said you might be here.”

“Hi Walter,” Willow greets, moving to allow space for him to sit beside her on the wall. He quickly hops up to join her. “How’s that bite feeling?”

“I’m a lot better!” He kicks his legs, holding up the bandaged one for a moment before letting it fall again. “Ms. Wickerbottom said you did a good job. She just changed the bandages and put more of that pink stuff on it.”

Willow smiles. “Good to hear.”

She’s glad to see that he’s returned to his usual self. Whatever that side of him was that she’d seen in the tent last night, hollowed out and afraid and so very quiet, it was gone now. And she was more than excited to bid it farewell. Walter was best when he was loud and brash and, above it all, unapologetically a kid. And Willow’s beginning to realize she’ll do a lot to protect his right to be so.

“You know,” Walter’s voice peters out, breaking into her thoughts. It’s sort of subdued and it immediately sparks her concern. She looks over to him questioningly, although he doesn’t hold her gaze, looking away in a manner that seems almost shy. “I was actually really scared last night. I know it’s kind of dumb, but…even with just that little bite, I felt like I was about to die.”

“Walter...” she starts, trailing off. She doesn’t know what to say.

“But then,” he continues, “I tried to think of all the things you told me about. All your cool stories about the stuff you did when you were my age. And I knew I had to be brave. Like you are.” Here, he faces her fully, and Willow is startled by the sheer admiration in his eyes. It almost makes her feel sick. Her hands tighten into fists on her knees.

“You’re braver than I am, Walter,” she admits.

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

One of her hands shakily finds her lighter, and she clicks it a few times, feeling the warmth burst under her fingers. She doesn’t deserve this. She doesn’t deserve a kid like Walter looking up to her. Not after letting him get hurt and pretending like they’re similar and lying to him. Her stomach twists as she tries to think of what to say next.

Her mouth feels dry, and she swallows to clear the feeling. “I mean...you really faced your fears last night. And you’re always so goddamn hopeful and bright and…” she sighs, wanting nothing more than to throw her lit lighter to the ground and be swallowed by the flames. “I’m not any of those things. All I ever do is run.”

It hurts to see the confusion on his face, and he looks like he’s going to say something else. Willow doesn’t let him. Because she has to make him understand, because she feels aflame with guilt, and she’s not the type of person he thinks she is. She’s just not.

“I lied to you!” she nearly shouts, her voice strangled. She has to make him understand. “I lied about all those stories, about being in the scouts, about being--” she breaks off with a ragged breath “--Brave.” Unable to keep his gaze, she squeezes her eyes shut and turns away. “I’ve lied about so much, Walter, and it’s because I’m scared. I’m scared of people knowing that I’m not really cool or courageous or honorable or any of those things you’re supposed to be.”

She laughs, and it comes out like a sob. “I just didn’t want to tell you the truth. That all I really was is some punk kid off the streets they felt too bad to say no to.”

Some part of her is unsure of why she’s even admitting all this, but at the same time, she feels like he deserves to know. Because he’s not like the other survivors, jaded or judgy or apathetic. He’s Walter. He’s a kid who reminds her so greatly of herself that it hurts, even now. And he’s placed his trust in her, whether she wants it or not.

She waits for him to get angry. To cry, maybe, all hurt and betrayed. Or maybe even to just get up and leave at how she’s shattered the trust between them. But several moments pass and it doesn’t seem like Walter has moved at all. And even though every inch of her screams to avoid whatever the look on his face may be, she chances a peek.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t look particularly upset. He’s just keeping a neutral frown, looking somewhat contemplative. When he notices her, he gives a sheepish smile.

“Yeah...I kinda figured most of that stuff wasn’t true.” He looks almost guilty about admitting it.

Willow blanches. “You did?”

He shrugs. “I don’t think you really have the right fire safety habits to be in the scouts. No offense. Plus, I’m pretty sure there’s no badge for bear-taming, no matter how cool it sounds.”

She feels like her entire head has gone blank at his admission. She stammers, “B-But...Aren’t you upset? That all those things I said that inspired you or whatever aren’t true?”

“They’re stories,” he says simply, answering Willow’s doubt in that blunt, childlike way only he could. “They’re not meant to always be true.” He grins. “Unless you really believe in a hook-handed man killing people in the woods? Or bog monsters?”

It takes barely a second, and, like she’s forgotten her worry, Willow knocks his shoulder. “Oh shut it. Of course I don’t.” It startles her a bit, just how easily he’s able to lift her mood. Having come down, she’s a bit embarrassed at how much she’s just dumped on him. Walter rubs his shoulder, still grinning, and thankfully not looking too overwhelmed. They sit for a moment, watching the waves. Walter gives a small, thoughtful hum.

“For what it’s worth, I still think you’re really cool. Like, the way you fought off those dogs?” He leaps to his feet, injury apparently forgotten, and waves his fists together like he’s brandishing an invisible spear. “You got all of them without even a scratch! It was amazing! And…” he falters, hands loosening and falling back to rest at his sides. He turns to face her, eyes brimming with sincerity. “You carried me back. Even when I was all messed up. Even though I could tell you were scared too. You still did it. And you sat with me even though it was kinda awkward.” He seems almost embarrassed then, his cheeks darkened in a flush. He shrugs and kicks at the dirt, his hands linking behind his back. “I dunno. I thought that was pretty brave.”

And in that moment, those words feel like the highest praise she could have ever received. Willow lets out a breathless laugh. “You think so?”

Emphatically, Walter nods. She can’t help but laugh again at that, slouching forward and resting her chin on her palm. And even if her guilt hasn’t entirely melted away, Willow still smiles.

“Well then. I guess I can’t argue with that.”

#dont starve #don't starve #dont starve together #dst #dont starve fic #dst fic #ds willow #ds wilson #dst walter #my writing #marine blogs #tumblr post in the tags challenge #as always reblogs and comments are appreciated!

11 notes · View notes

girl4music · 3 years

Text

BUFFY REWATCH - S05E13 - Blood Ties

XANDER: “What about this... Key thing-y Glory's looking for?”

*Buffy and Giles both standing, sipping tea, exchanging a look*

TARA (voice over): “Yeah, I mean, shouldn't we be trying to find it before she does?”

BUFFY: “I don't think that's what we should be worrying about right now.”

*Giles sits*

WILLOW: “They've got a point. Whatever Glory's planning on opening with the Key, I'm guessing it won't be filled with candy and flowers.”

XANDER: “So where should we start looking? Do we know where it used to be kept? Who saw it last?”

BUFFY: “We did. Giles and me. We, we know where it is.”

XANDER: “You what?”

WILLOW: “You know, and you didn't tell us?”

GILES: “There were... reasons.”

BUFFY: “Look, i-if Glory knew that you guys knew where it was, I...

*Sits*

I-I just didn't wanna put you in that kind of danger.”

XANDER:

*Annoyed*

“As opposed to the other kind we're always in?”

WILLOW: “You should have said something.”

BUFFY: “Will, there-

*Pauses*

You're right.

*To Giles*

It's time.”

GILES: “Are you sure?”

BUFFY: “If they're gonna be risking their lives, they deserve to know.”

XANDER: “Know what?”

*Buffy looks at her friends. They look at her*

BUFFY: “There's something that you need to know... about Dawn.”

For this episode recap of ‘Blood Ties’, we’re going back to the theme of withholding information that we had in Season 4 with Willow withholding her romantic/sexual relationship with Tara from Buffy and the Gang, and Buffy withholding information of Riley being an Initiative Commando from Giles. But this time the reason to withhold information is much more serious as this is about Dawn’s true nature as the Key. Therefore, it would be information that would put the Scoobies in danger if they knew about her being it. Buffy only tells Giles this information as soon she finds out for herself, and they decide together that it’s for the best that no one else knows, lest they be targeted by Glory - who is looking for the Key to open a portal to get back to her Hell dimension.

I wanted to address this withholding of information from the other Scoobies because “it’s too dangerous” to know it because it’s a common occurrence that Buffy uses the “it’s too dangerous” excuse when it comes to Willow and Xander. Knowing they’re willing volunteers in aiding her in the Slayage, she often worries about their safety when she’s really got a challenge on her hands. And I would say Glory is the biggest challenge she’s faced so far. As a Hell God, Glory is the strongest Big Bad Buffy has come across yet. She’s even stronger than Adam - so she probably thinks that the enjoining spell (where she, Willow, Xander and Giles combined their essences to defeat Adam when he was just too strong for Buffy to take on alone in the Season 4 climax) wouldn’t be helpful this time. So she and Giles figured that keeping them out-of-the-loop on the Key was the best thing to do to both keep Willow/Xander/Scooby Gang safe and protect Dawn.

But see... the thing is, is they’re not going to take ‘no’ for an answer. Willow and Xander specifically (and Giles, to some degree, with officially being her assigned, and recently reinstated, Watcher) will always risk their lives not just because they’re the Slayer’s best friends - (and Watcher/Father figure) - but also because they’ve chosen their fate a long time ago. They were aware of the dangers and the risks and the consequences from pretty much the start of Buffy’s Slayer journey, and they chose to be willing participants in helping Buffy anyway. So now it doesn’t matter whether Buffy is around to fight evil as they’re going to be doing it anyway... because they’ve CHOSEN to do it. And that’s a very important word in the context of this subject because Buffy had no choice.

I bring up Willow’s conversation with Buffy in the episode ‘Choices’ in telling her where she’ll be going to college after graduating from Sunnydale High School:

Buffy: “I'm never getting out of here. I kept thinking if I stopped the Mayor or... but I was kidding myself. I mean, there is always going to be something. I'm a Sunnydale girl,... no other choice.”

Willow: “Must be tough. I mean, here I am... I can do anything I want. I can go to any college in the country. Four or five in Europe if I want.”

Buffy: “Please tell me you're going somewhere with this?”

Willow: “No.

*Hands Buffy a letter*

I'm not going anywhere.”

Buffy:

*Reads the letter*

“UC Sunnydale?”

Willow: “I will be matriculating with Class of 2003.”

Buffy: “Are you serious?”

Willow: “Say,... isn't that where you're going?”

*Buffy hugs her and they tumble onto the ground*

Buffy: “I can't believe it! Are you serious?! Ah, wait, what am I saying? You can't.”

Willow: “What do you mean, ‘I can't?’”

Buffy: “I won't let you.”

Willow: “Of the two people here, which is the boss of me?”

Buffy: “There are better schools.”

Willow: “Sunnydale's not bad. And I can design my own curriculum.”

Buffy: “Okay, well, there are safer schools. There are safer prisons. I can't let you stay because of me.”

Willow: "Actually, this isn't about you. Although I'm fond, don't get me wrong, of you. The other night, you know, being captured and all, facing off with Faith. Things just, kind of, got clear. I mean, you've been fighting evil here for three years, and I've helped some, and now we're supposed to decide what we want to do with our lives. And I just realized that that's what I want to do. Fight evil, help people. I mean, I think it's worth doing. And I don't think you do it because you have to. It's a good fight, Buffy, and I want in.”

Buffy: “I kind of love you.”

Willow: “And, besides, I have a shot at being a bad ass Wiccan, and what better place to learn?”

It’s not about Buffy. It’s about fighting the good fight. Fighting against evil. Big Bad evil, the likes of Glory, especially. Maybe it makes some sense to play the whole “it’s too dangerous” card with Xander since he doesn’t have any physical/practical and/or mystical/magical powers... but it doesn’t make sense to play it with Willow. Willow now knows who she is and what she wants. Even if she doesn’t always believe in herself, she’s at least self-aware enough to know what it is that makes her tick. She wants to feel the heroicness of Buffy in helping the innocent for herself. Willow wants the power... and now she’s got the power... there is no reason why she shouldn’t be allowed to know information that would put her in danger or make her a target when she clearly shows, and does later prove when Glory targets Tara, that she’s the only one strong and powerful enough to hurt her and protect everyone, including Dawn, from Glory.

“The Slayer thing really isn't about the violence. It's about the power.”

It ultimately comes down to Buffy thinking she’s burdening her friends with having to take on the responsibility of Slayage. But she’s all wrong. Her friends - especially Willow - have CHOSEN this life. And it’s literally Giles’ job so... get a clue, Slayer. You’re better off when you have help. Your ties to the world do not weaken you. They make you stronger. There is always danger, there is always risk, there is always consequences. But someone’s CHOICE is all that matters. Just because YOU didn’t get a choice in the matter doesn’t mean you can “relieve” the Scoobies from theirs in the name of “it’s too dangerous" because it is also too dangerous for you to be without them too, Buffy.

#buffy the vampire slayer #blood ties #buffy summers #willow rosenberg #xander harris #rupert giles #tara maclay #it's too dangerous #choice #episode recap #buffy rewatch

14 notes · View notes

mimiplaysgames · 5 years

Text

Beloved Memories, in Notes (Vol. VII)

Pairing: Aqua/Terra Rating: T (for horror elements) Word Count: 11,074

Summary: His mission was to be her friend, but she didn’t want any. Terra and Aqua meet. Terra is 9, Aqua is 8.

Read on AO3

A/N: This chapter was always going to be the angsty one of this collection (kind of, it ends well). This specific story is honestly my favorite in this collection, and I’m so excited to move on with it. I’m very proud of the ending to this tale, and I just want to be able to cover it lmao.

****

A Tale of Stars, Pt. 2

It was hot, and it sucked.

There was still hay sticking to Terra's arms after he brushed them all off, his sweat just as sticky as the humidity that clinched him. The Master was in just as much of a grumpy mood.

Cows always made Terra laugh though, and Abigail's moos were a welcome cheer for a morning that could either go really well or really badly. Terra needed to be on his best behavior, for this was his very first mission - and he barely even started real Keyblade training.

He already had a to-do list to make him successful. The first step (and the most important): to be Aqua's friend.

But this was also the hardest.

Aqua was in the backyard, pumping water into a pail out of an iron press, before dragging it back to the Widow Tweed's quaint farmhouse, with Tod the fox tailing her feet closely. He noticed that she barely gave either of them the courtesy of a glance when they strolled out of Abigail's barn.

An owl stood at a tree watching them, and Terra didn't know which was weirder: that an owl was out at dawn, or that it enjoyed the company of a sparrow and a woodpecker.

Mrs. Tweed handed them their breakfast (plain old sausage with a sprinkle of salt), and Terra only finished half when Aqua appeared again, hair in classic long pigtails as usual, with Tod following her like he was her best friend. She straggled toward the woods in a daze that made her seem more like a zombie than anything, as if this was the most basic routine for the most basic day and she didn't know what else there was to do.

"You should join her," he heard the Master say.

Terra chewed on his meat with spite. "She doesn't like me."

"She does not know you as a person."

"Still hates me."

"Then she'd be the fool," Eraqus said with confidence. "To pass judgment on mere glance would say much about her and nothing of you… You still have your responsibilities, however, so you must try."

Terra stopped a piece from reaching his mouth, his fingers grasped tightly around his fork. "What if she says no?"

"Then you respect her decision."

A more frightening possibility crept into his mind. "What if she says yes?"

"Then you join her." Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Terra stuffed as much sausage into his mouth until his cheeks almost burst because he hated all the answers and pouted at his Master. It didn't work.

"Continue with that and your cheeks will sag," the Master grinned.

The image of long flabby cheeks terrified him, so brave Terra faced his fears, swallowed all the sausage at once (which hurt), and raced over before she disappeared into the trees. This was still a mission, and he was still being tested.

"Aqua," he panted, and she at least treated him with the decency of acknowledging his presence. "Are you going out to play?"

"Yeah," she said lowly. Honestly, she looked super-exhausted, despite that it was morning.

"Can I join you?"

She turned and left him behind. "Sure."

Now what was Terra supposed to do? Follow, he supposed.

Aqua walked with the grace of someone who memorized where all the uplifted tree roots would snag her, barely putting any thought of where to step her feet while Terra took an extra second or two just to make sure he wouldn't trip. Tod led the way, excitedly rushing onward only to have to come back because they were going too slow for him.

They walked in silence - Terra didn't know what to talk about.

Toys - does she still have any? Pets - I don't know a thing about them, much less foxes. School - well, we obviously don't take the same classes, and I don't study math, so we can't even talk about something we hate.

Her silence sucked just as much as the heat, and why, oh why did Terra have to deal with this?

They reached a pond, where a creek ran the end of its trail into its reservoir, and willow trees overlooking the surface and dragonflies dancing on longrass.

"Do you want to skip rocks?" Terra asked. "It's really fun."

She sat on a log, bringing her knees to her chin and saying nothing in return.

Tod went ahead and buried his nose in the crooks of pebbles that littered the ground, sometimes yipping at something he found, which were mostly uninteresting - frogs, maybe.

"It's really hot," Terra said, and he didn't know if she agreed - she said nothing.

"Maybe we can swim?" he asked, and immediately blushed. Normally he'd strip to his shorts but he probably shouldn't be asking girls to take off their clothes to go swimming with him.

Again, she said nothing, her eyes drifting off into some made-up land. Terra had never seen a child, even at the orphanage, who looked this horrible.

The adults running the orphanage always said that having parents was the best thing that could ever happen, and that each child could have a pair as long as they behaved well. Terra never really wondered if having them (or losing them) would hurt just as much, too.

It was suddenly too quiet. Tod stopped his hustling of innocent forest insects, and slumped his shoulders while he waited.

He and Aqua looked the same: abandoned.

Finally, she spoke. "Copper is late."

"The hounddog?"

"He always comes," she said with a tighter grip around her knees, like she was remembering a punishment.

Copper was late and Tod was sad about it, too. That was what hurt them: missing someone.

Aqua huffed, willing whatever cloudy thoughts that haunted her to go away and stood up with her head held high, marching deeper into the forest. If Terra didn't know any better, he'd say that she was ready to punch somebody.

He and Tod followed, and it turned out that they hiked somewhere uphill, where they eventually reached a rundown farm within several acres of empty land, half-neglected and half-loved.

She gasped - Copper was there, a rope tied around his neck for a leash, where the weight of an empty barrel kept him grounded. Nearby, a much, much bigger gray dog snuggled in his own barrel and snored.

The children sneaked up to the wooden fence that marked the beginning of the forest and the end of this farm's territory. Aqua held Tod closely, quieting his fidgeting and stopping him from racing across to the dogs.

"Mr. Slade is so mean," she whispered with disdain. "He's always trying to keep Copper and Tod apart. Who would do such a thing?"

It was still Terra's opinion that a fox and a hound were strange friends indeed considering their nature.

Maybe he expected Aqua to know better, and yet here she was on the verge of going back to hiding in her mind.

Well, his mission was to be her friend, and he read in books in that friends made each other happy. If she wanted Tod and Copper to play together, as weird as that was, then he was going to do just that.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, Tod squirming more in her arms.

Terra had lifted one leg in between the logs barring up the fence, and ducked under to get to the other side. "I'm getting Copper, what does it look like?"

"Chief will hear you."

If she was talking about the snoring dog, then he didn't know what she was so worried about. Terra was training to be a Keyblade Master, after all, what was a mangey old mutt going to do?

"I can sneak."

"You're going to get in trouble," she barked like a mean teacher.

"No, I won't."

"Yes, you will."

He liked her less when she talked.

"Calm down." He dismissed her with a wave and crept, keeping his body close to the ground as he waddled over, the grass patches taller than him. This farm really needed a lawnmower.

Aqua huddled behind a bush, watching him closely and mumbling small prayers to herself as she kept a firm hand around Tod's snout. She worried too much.

Terra, on the other hand, crawled confidently - he was more afraid of Mr. Slade catching him in the act than of an old, tired dog sniffing him out.

He chose to do this for her, and was going to see it through.

Copper was very smart and perceptive, understanding the consequences of being caught by a large quadruped such as Chief, so he shied away from Terra at first.

Of course, Copper was still a young puppy, and the moment Terra followed through on some unspoken promise of releasing him from his prison, he yipped.

"Shhh," Terra said, ever so gently holding Copper's snout. He held his breath for a few seconds, Chief wiggling and kicking his feet from the sudden noise -

Only to go back to sleep.

Terra was more relieved than he wanted to admit. "Don't you wanna play with your friend?" he whispered, and started to head back to Aqua and Tod with the puppy riding in his arms.

But then Chief finally got a whiff, and finally started barking.

Chief spit, Chief noticed exactly who was in Terra's arms, and when he did, Chief lunged with a loud growl. Terra's heart jumped straight up into his throat at the sight of such carnivores, and he swallowed it back into place.

Luck smiled on him though, since Terra only managed to escape because Chief, too, was leashed.

Aqua immediately bolted back into the thicket, with Terra and a pup in his arms following closely, the bark of an angry, old man inching closer, throwing a gunshot for a warning but even then, that faded into the background, too.

*****

Tod and Copper reuniting turned Aqua into a different person - though she was still stuffy, ungrateful at worst, as she yapped about how they were teaching these little innocent animals terrible lessons that could get them into trouble later on, and wasn't this considered dognapping, blah blah blah.

(Honestly, it wasn't dognapping if they were going to return Copper, right?)

But - and that was a huge but - Aqua was at least more willing to talk, more brave to look him in the eye when she did (he realized she had very large, bright eyes, making it hard not to stare).

Who knew that all he had to do was steal someone's pet to open her up?

He could have snarked back by saying that she wasn't a perfect princess either since she was now happy that Tod and Copper were together, but he kept his mouth shut.

She did make some good points, after all. If the Master ever found out what he did, he'd fail the mission.

But... if he didn't do this for her, then she would definitely refuse to be his friend, and that meant he failed, too.

Ugh, Mr. Slade shouldn't have been a jerk in the first place because he made Terra's life miserable (and everyone else's included).

As Tod and Copper rolled in the dirt, Terra kicked a rock and said, "No one should know."

She fiddled with her apron, her dress sprawled over the log they sat on. "Okay. I won't tell a soul."

The worst feeling was keeping this from the Master, and Terra never expected this would ever happen in his entire life.

Was it worth it?

He didn't know. He knew he felt content when Copper approached him with a wagging tail, when the pup crawled onto his lap for a short snooze, alongside his best friend Tod, who helped himself to Aqua's lap.

They looked peaceful, like they had been given a second chance at something important to them. Terra felt like he was a hero, which was always what he wanted to be… and the Master did always say to do what was his heart told him was right.

So would he really get into that much trouble if Terra argued that this was the right thing to do?

Maybe.

That uncertainty was too much of a risk, and Terra didn't know how to feel.

It suddenly dawned on him - this was his first secret that he shared with someone else. Anyone else in his entire nine-year-life!

Wait, it wasn't like they actually promised to keep it to themselves - they merely agreed to never speak about it. She gave him a simple nod when she complied, afraid of the consequences that would chase her if it ever got out. It was not a pinky-squeeze, not a handspit, or a blood oath.

He understood perfectly. This was about survival, not friendship.

*****

By evening, Mr. Slade blamed Tod for the dognapping - he didn't actually see the fox though, and therefore had no basis for his arguments.

The Master's presence was imposing enough to shut it all down. Eraqus was so much taller than Amos Slade that a shotgun to the chest didn't really diminish how intimidating he was, and since everyone thought of him as an investigator, his dismissal of the Case of the Missing Puppy was final.

By morning, it was time for Aqua to go back to school, and Eraqus offered to take her (for protection protocol).

The three of them traversed twisted, muddy backroads to the town square, since the main road would take her right by her destroyed house and it was best to avoid all of that for now. It would have been a pretty stroll, tucked away in the forest trees with the sun shining through the canopies, if it wasn't for the heat. Terra couldn't wait to leave this world and never come back.

It didn't help that Aqua wasn't very receptive to Eraqus trying to open conversations with her, and it left Terra feeling like he had to start back at square one all over again. It was a wonder how the Master didn't feel so personally attacked by her silence.

Being such a small world where everyone knew everything, the people in town cast looks on Aqua as they walked by, whispering gossip and identifiers as they pointed to the girl whose parents were brutally murdered in a town where such things never happened.

When they approached the schoolhouse, children gathered in the windows to look down on her as she crept closer to the entrance, and while Terra couldn't hear what they were saying, they were absolutely riled up like she was a spectacle at a zoo. It was rude.

Since Terra couldn't join her because he wasn't a student, Eraqus took him to the public library - a small wooden thing that was pathetic in comparison to the castle's massive archive.

Eraqus left him behind so Terra wouldn't be in danger, since he was going straight to the outskirts of the town to investigate the last sightings of the demon wrecking this town apart, appearing as a man seemingly named Ardyn.

The Master had only one request: "Let us not kidnap any more puppies today, shall we?"

Terra feigned innocence. "Sir?" When that didn't work, he continued, "Yes, sir."

Equipped with only one ceiling fan for reprieve (it barely worked to keep him cool), Terra busied himself to a number of random books; a good Keyblade wielder spent his time studying about the world he was investigating, as it helped him fit in better.

He tried really hard to be quiet - really, he did. He was the only one there aside from the librarian, a young woman wearing a bun and glasses that made her look older. But he did a spectacular job at being noisy even though it wasn't his fault; the wooden floorboards under him just wouldn't stop squeaking with every step he took.

It turned out that Terra didn't have to be so respectful with keeping up the integrity of the library - a young guy marched into the library, his muddy boots stomping like crackling whips onto the wood beneath.

Immediately, he and the librarian hit it off like they were flirting, and Terra wondered why he ever tried so hard being quiet.

Much of the talk was boring - news of someone's married cousin, and whether she had time Saturday night to go look at some horses… Hopefully she realized that this guy chatting her up was the lamest of the lame and she wouldn't agree to it.

She dodged his question entirely by changing the subject, acting like she didn't hear him. This was where it got interesting - she brought up the subject of the murderer, and asked the guy if he heard anything new.

"Yer tellin' me you didn' hear?" he gargled. His teeth were yellow. "They found the preacher's daughter."

The librarian hesitated. "Is she…?"

He shook his head. "All mangled up by the river. Funny thing is the fog's still rollin' when it shouldn'." He wasn't creeped out about the death, but acted like he was important enough to deliver such news. "Word is she was covered in oil when they found her."

The librarian at least had the decency to be upset. "The poor thing. Who found her?"

"That investigator comin' from the city." They were talking about the Master. Terra pretended to read, with one stack of finished books to his left, and a dwindling shorter stack of unread ones to his right, but he inched a little closer to listen more. The man continued, "If he hadn' found her, she'd continue ter sit there and rot."

Images of the Master finding a dead body burned in Terra's mind. Eraqus was strong, always had been - a hero had adopted Terra the day they met. But suddenly it scared him to think about the Master following Ardyn's trail.

"Makes me wonder," the man continued, his finger lifted in the air as if to make a point, "if Jim Bob'll get his fair share."

"Jim Bob, was that the one who beat his horses?"

"Is that what you 'eard?" He pulled on his suspenders. "Ha! I 'eard he poisoned 'em."

"Well, I don't believe any of it. Jim Bob loves his horses, I figured that nastiness was the work of that creeper."

"Did ya hear? Jim Bob claims the creeper doin' all of this lives in his paintings. Crazy loon. And 'pparently the creeper fancies hisself a fedora. Can you believe that?"

The librarian leaned forward, making sure she heard correctly. "You don't say?"

At this, Terra stood up, and the two adults suddenly quieted, as if their conversation was too inappropriate for a kid.

Not like Terra cared, waltzing up to the front desk with a very specific task in mind.

"Ma'am," he began, giving her a smile. "May I ask for a book about fedoras?"

She blushed at the proof that he heard their every word. "W-what are you needing, exactly?"

"I want to know what one looks like." Terra smiled wider, ignoring the way the man cleaned his own teeth with his tongue.

The librarian nodded quickly, like she had just been given orders by someone very important, and rushed off to find a book from a nearby shelf. She did Terra the favor of flipping through it for him, handing it over with pages showing off hats: fedoras, some with large rims, others short, all of them with similar dips at the top.

"You're a very smart boy," he heard her say, making him look up.

"Thank you, ma'am."

She squealed with glee. "And so very polite, too, they don't make kids like you these days no more." She leaned on her hands, looking down on him from her desk. "I've never seen you 'round here before."

Terra cleared his throat. He was instructed to tell very specific stories should anyone ask. "I'm from the city, miss."

She leaned further at the sound of his answer, like he was just as much of a specimen - it reminded him of the way people gawked at Aqua. "You don't happen to be the investigator's son now, are you?"

My dad?

That was right, if anyone asked, he was supposed to agree. Eraqus was so focused on proper obedience that the most proper way to address him was always "Master," and Terra wondered if it meant he was doing something bad if he lied about their relationship.

Was he, really, if he was lying for a mission?

Either way, it made him feel good to say yes.

*****

When school was over, Terra had instructions to find her.

He'd spent so long being the only kid at the Land of Departure that seeing a mass of children rummaging through the school grounds was like a punch to his heart, reminding him of the orphanage. It made him wonder how the ones he left behind were doing… did they find parents? Did they still hope for some or did they give up? What about Miss Quistis, the lady who ran the orphanage - was she still there? She always smiled.

Terra spotted Aqua, surrounded by other girls and one boy, who asked her incessant questions and ate all of her answers. Aqua was either uncomfortable or shy - he couldn't tell.

This was where Terra was completely useless, making new friends. He was going to be a Keyblade Master, a hero and savior to anyone who needed help, so sure, he'd be brave in the face of danger, or in the game between life and death.

But he remembered the lesson he kept facing again and again at the orphanage: other kids didn't want him around.

So he did what he thought he'd never do again: sit on a bench by himself and watch the others talk and play ball.

He was already so good at staring at rocks that he didn't notice that another child approached him -

Aqua, with her hand extended. He almost thought she wanted him to save her from her nosy friends, but he wasn't going to be fooled that he was necessary in a predicament like this.

"Come play with us," she said.

What was that about being a savior when she was the one to save him?

He was shaking when he took her hand, and didn't know if he was shaking harder as she led him through groups of wandering kids that broke off into their own cliques. Mostly he just stood there when she introduced him to her friends, and needed verbal permission to play skip rope with them.

Terra was smart and got the hang of it, and let himself enjoy some of the games - that is, until the other kids gaped with eyes wide open at someone behind him. The yard surrounding the school dulled into silence - and it wasn't because the kids went home.

Some pudgy kid with a round face, a mean look, a swollen eye, and oily hair approached their group, and with such vigor that everyone else made space for him, like he was king and they were terrified of him, and he knew he terrified them and he took pride in that.

"Looks like the cursed girl is back," he chipped in, and no one had anything to retort.

"Shut up, Pap," Aqua snarked, and the other kids stared in shock.

"Best be on the lookout or else being 'round her will curse your parents, too," he said with cackle, searching for nods of agreement from the other children nearby. He was a giant of a child, definitely a head taller than Terra.

What was most surprising was how literally no one mentioned how cruel that was to say - it nearly made Terra want to punch this Pap in the face… but adults always punished him for getting into fights.

Aqua's lip quivered for a moment before she went cold. "The only reason why no one went after your dad was because his breath stinks. Who'd go near him?"

Pap's face twitched at the sound of giggles from the other kids. "You know," he said with a crunch of his knuckles, "Preacher said your parents must have sinned an awful lot to get what was coming to 'em."

Terra searched for any adults who might be watching. There was no one.

Pap continued his crap. "So yer one to talk. I normally don't hit girls."

"Try me!" Aqua shrieked, pushing him like she didn't care in the world what could happen to her.

That pissed Pap off.

He went ahead, fist in the air for a clean strike.

Despite urging him on, Aqua scrunched her fists into her skirt, like she didn't know what she got herself into.

Terra had no choice.

Grabbing the fist, twisting the arm over, and tripping Pap by the ankle came so fluidly, so naturally, that all the children blinked once just to realize that his huge butt landed on the ground before he even got close to Aqua.

"That was easy," Terra smirked, now standing in between an idiot covered in dirt and Aqua.

It was easy. No one compared to Master Eraqus.

There were some loud gasps and name-calling from the crowd, followed by silence.

"Y-you don't belong here, ain't got no reason to-" Pap's surprised stutters and the drool coming out of his mouth was the first sign of him turning his heel and leaving them alone, yelling something like "I'mma tell my pa!" before he disappeared.

The crowd dissipated slowly, giving Terra and Aqua stares like they were the next most dangerous thing. Like they were freaks, even though Terra had just stood up to the one bully terrorizing them. Why? Not even her friends wanted to be near her, acting like she wasn't even there.

Aqua sniffled behind him, but she just left him alone when he asked if she was okay, taking a place on a bench near the road.

Maybe Terra was used to that by now, but he followed her, paying no mind how she refused to look at him. "Don't think about Pap, he's stupid," he said.

"He is stupid," she croaked, before raising her voice to a yell. "And school is stupid and everything is stupid."

She glared at her lap and Terra didn't know what to say. The other children eventually left the school in droves, some walking together to wherever they've decided to go, while others had their parents pick them up.

"Who usually picks you up?" Terra asked after a while, hating the silence.

Aqua raised her head to meet him in the eye. She didn't cry, but she looked like a pet anxiously waiting at a windowsill for its owner. She looked like Tod.

"My daddy."

Terra didn't have a good reply to that. Eraqus wasn't around - Eraqus wasn't around, and a horrid thought lurked in his stomach. What if they were both now left alone here for good?

It lasted for merely a second. Thankfully.

"I apologize for my late arrival," the Master said, which didn't matter. He still came and Terra found his breath again. "Would any of you like treats? Maybe some flavored ice for this dastardly weather?" He wiped his brow with a handkerchief.

Aqua didn't reply, but reached out to hold his hand with both of hers, and hid her face in his robe. Terra was still processing whatever it was that made him nauseous.

Eraqus smiled but acted like nothing out of the ordinary happened. "I am quite fond of lemon flavor myself."

******

The walk back to Mrs. Tweed's farm seemed longer, and the Master filled it with random stories of the games he used to play as a child. Terra had heard some stories about the past before, but Eraqus left out certain key details that would have marked him as a foreigner to this world, and one day Terra would have to do the same.

Aqua didn't say much, just gripped the Master's hand tightly as she followed him, her eyes lazy and missing, like the road she was staring at didn't exist.

It didn't matter that she never spoke back, the Master kept looking over his shoulder to see if she was listening, smiling at her like she gave him acknowledgement of his words.

Then, she stopped on her feet, and the Master complied. By now, the sun was halfway down to setting.

"I told them," she whimpered.

"Told who what?" the Master asked.

"I told my parents about the bad man."

What dropped first was the Master's smile, then he knelt before her. "The bad man?"

"Mm-hmm," she nodded. "We met him at the summer fair. At night. He sat at a table drinking ale and we passed by him. He asked about me, and my parents answered some questions like I went to school and I danced."

"Was that all?"

She shook her head. "I told them he was bad."

Eraqus cocked his head, more attentive than ever. "How did you know this?"

Her face contorted, her brows scrunching into wrinkles and her lips bending at the center. "I just knew he was bad. I pulled on mama and told daddy to stay away, but they said I was rude."

Then the first tears Terra saw on her face fell, and she struggled to breathe. "They didn't believe me," she said.

She wailed, the most horrid sound Terra had ever heard, and it was so loud that it filled his ears and invaded his chest, and he nearly cried from it, too. It hurt to hear it and it hurt to think about why.

Eraqus picked her up, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist, with words that said, There, there, you are safe and sound, safe, safe, safe, as they trudged down the road, leaving Terra to carry her bookbag.

She was limp, all her energy seeping into sobs on the Master's shoulder, and all the noise she made frightened the rabbits and the birds nearby.

******

Since they got back, Abigail fussed hard like the air was suffocating her.

"She's doing a little better," the Master observed when he found Terra alone in the barn, brushing the cow, which really helped her calm down.

But now it was Terra willed into silence, Abigail's chewing of hay filling the room.

"Are you alright?"

Terra nodded. "Is it true you found the preacher's daughter?"

Eraqus' nostrils flared and he inhaled. "Word surely spreads far in this world. Yes, Terra, I did."

The Master took his place on a short stool normally setup for milking, but instead of fetching a pail, he rubbed on the hairs of his mustache with his thumb and forefinger.

"This man, if he could still be called one, is very predatory… I saw him today."

Terra nearly dropped the brush. "What?"

"Ardyn, I came into contact with him at the horse farmer's home. It's become a dreary place. Even with the sunshine, the halls of that house stay dark." Eraqus cleared his throat and took the milking pail, though he did nothing with it. "A terrible thing, the darkness. Being near it for too long will compel anyone to commit atrocities they otherwise would not do with a sane mind." He raised a finger at Terra, ready to lecture. "This is why you must never tread on that path, lest you want regrets, Terra."

"Yes, sir."

"Ardyn had found refuge within the oil paintings across the farmer's house, and I've chased him. He would appear and disappear at a whim, taking occupancy in frames he didn't belong… until he stepped out of one."

"And then what happened?" Terra asked quietly. "Did you fight?"

Eraqus nodded, and Terra's stomach dropped. "Unfortunately, he melted into his own shadows, escaping." He took a side glance. "I do not believe this beast is blind like it describes in my records."

"Sir?"

"Terra, do you remember your lessons about the nature of light and darkness?"

Of course he did, he was a good student. He recited, "Light attracts darkness, and darkness will hunt down the light. They are designed to recognize each other."

"Yes. Yes, indeed." Eraqus stared at nothing, gathering thoughts before he put them to words. "Aqua's intuition in recognizing the darkness only asserts my suspicions - I believe he hunted her down for the immensely bright light within her."

"... Why did he go after her parents?"

"Hmmm… the more I ponder over it, the more I see why the records have him labeled as blind. As a hunter, he is barely decent. When I fought him, nothing about his movements and his aversions to my presence gave me the impression that he couldn't see. It was more of… he can sense light when it is near. It alarms him but it deceives him. What I have noticed is his breath, it is so deep when he fights it as though he is drowning."

"So he sniffs the light when it's around?"

"In a way. He approached Aqua's house in daylight, when she was in school, so it would be sensible that her presence would be smeared all over her home, where her parents resided unaware."

"Then why doesn't he find her now?"

Eraqus, pensive and tense this entire time, sighed, like he just remembered that he was talking about human beings. "She is grieving. We all have light and darkness within us, Terra. Grief and rage will cloak our very best selves, and while she is under that state, it hides her from him.

"This is why," Eraqus continued, needing Terra's attention, "it is important that she understands there are others who care about her. To give her inner light a chance to shine again, and remember what it feels like to be happy. A dark mind lends to a dark heart and too much of that will warp her. Do you understand what I am saying, Terra?"

"Yes, sir. I've been trying to make her smile."

"Good. I know I can count on you." Eraqus' smile was brief as if he didn't have the time for it. "As for the preacher's daughter, unfortunately I believe she was mere collateral. A source of light that he found confusing, and he attacked her as such. There is so much darkness to be found in many worlds, Terra, and they wear many faces but this is the most gruesome that I've seen in my lifetime."

So Ardyn could find anyone with enough light, and just… end it all.

"Why?" Terra choked. "Why would anyone do that?"

Eraqus rubbed his student's head. "The reason will differ for each, but it is all senseless and primitive."

The tears were hot and Terra wasn't strong enough to stop them.

Eraqus reached to hold him, alarmed at the sight. "What has gotten into you? Are you frightened?"

Terra sniffed quietly and nodded, using his forearm to wipe his face.

"What if you die?" he squeaked.

"Terra, look at me." He was gentle, but firm. "I will not die."

"Aqua's parents died. And the preacher's daughter."

His Master sighed, rubbing Terra's arms before brushing his hair out of his tear-stained face. "Terra… they had no means of defending themselves, but I am very different. You have no reason to fear. Dry those tears."

He swallowed. "Y-yes, sir."

"If this is too much for you, I can send you home where you'll feel safe."

"No, sir." He stared at his Master's shoes. Under no circumstances did Terra want to go home, abandoning the mission, wondering for days if everyone was okay. And Aqua was so sad, today. "If I leave, then Aqua will be all alone, and I want to be brave."

"You possess an extraordinary amount of courage, capable and necessary for any true Keyblade wielder." Eraqus leaned over to make sure that Terra understood correctly. "The amulet I gave you, Terra, do you still mind it?"

"Y-yes, sir." Terra hurried to pull the knotted, looped cross from under his shirt. "I don't even take it off for a bath."

"Very good. You remember what I told you?"

"If anything-" He swallowed. He didn't want anything to happen. Now he wanted to go home and have Eraqus all to himself. "If anything happened, I need to stay calm and find you."

"And it will protect you. Be mindful of the fickleness of protection spells, Terra. They are powerful but they expire."

"Yes, sir."

The Master wiped Terra's face with his robe, and brushed through his hair with his fingers. Then he took the pail near him, ready to take on Abigail. "You are dismissed, Terra. Take some fresh air outside." He gave a smirk. "Let us hope the next time we speak of such evils, you would be a stronger, braver Keybearer ready to take on the challenge."

"Yes, sir."

******

Dragging his feet on the ground as he welcomed the cool breeze that hit his face, the vastness of the stars above him made this world seem bigger than it truly was. The forests beyond faded into darkness, the shadows mean under the moonlight.

At least Aqua was there, settled in the grass where Tod curled on her lap, his bright red fur the only spec of color to be seen in a night like this one. She was watching the forest but she was not really on her guard, like she didn't consider that something dangerous could be hiding where she couldn't see.

She wasn't crying anymore but her face was still puffy, and Terra took a spot next to her. She nudged over to give him more space, lending him a half-smile as a greeting. The grass was soft but itchy, too tall and in need of grooming.

"Everyone at school now knows me as the girl with no parents," Aqua said, eyes downcast with her hand sunk in Tod's vibrant red fur, and a tone that said she'd rather be known as literally anything else. She sounded tired, too - sick of being sad.

"I don't have any parents either."

She gaped at him with a pity he didn't comprehend. "Mr. Eraqus…?"

For once, Terra shook his head. "He's my teacher."

"Oh…" And there she was again, sad, and he got the notion that it was for him even though he didn't need it. "What happened to them?"

"They gave me up when I was a baby," he said simply. He lived with this knowledge all his life; it wasn't a big deal. Well… it kind of was. All the children went through a phase at some point that maybe they didn't deserve to have a family. But it really wasn't that big of a deal. It wasn't. "I grew up in an orphanage… but I have Master Eraqus now. Everything's great."

"But you live with your teacher."

"The best teacher ever."

She quieted. "...Do you even go to school?"

Terra didn't know what to say. He was supposed to talk about Eraqus being his father this entire time that he didn't have backup answers. "Sorta. I'm his only apprentice. We live in a special academy up in the mountains."

"Really?" She eyed the West, toward the direction of what these townspeople called mountains in this world. "Where?"

"Uh, very far away."

"Hm. So is it a lie that you're from the city?"

"No!" He said too quickly. "I come from a city - a really big one. All the buildings there are taller than your mountains here."

She gave him a… snooty look. "There's no such thing as a city like that."

"Yes, there is."

"No, there isn't."

"It's true," he pleaded. She was such a hard nut to crack. "Okay fine, there's more to it but... can you keep a secret?"

She lit up. "Yeah."

"You have to promise not to tell anyone, or I'll get in trouble."

"Cross my heart."

If she put her heart on the line, then she was serious. "The Master and I aren't from around here."

"Well," she scoffed, "duh."

"No, I mean…" He waved to the sky above them, stars twinkling like they wanted to be noticed. "We're from very, very far away."

It took her a second to think about what he was saying, then she rolled her eyes. "Are you saying you're aliens? That's ridiculous."

He laughed – it wasn't the response he expected, but it wasn't exactly the wrong interpretation either. "Kind of? We are from a distant star, and we flew from there."

"Pfft."

"I'm not lying."

"Sure, you're an alien."

Why she had to be such a snob at all times, he didn't know. Still, Terra felt like a complete idiot – here was someone finally willing to listen to him, to share a secret with and be his friend, and he blew it. He hated the silence penetrating between them now.

Aqua suddenly threw her hands in the air, as if she had enough exasperation to last her the day. "Aliens are supposed to have green skin, okay? They look like bugs, with antennas, and they're bald-"

Like she was the expert.

She said it in a way as if asking him to prove her wrong, and he swayed right back into smiling. Maybe he didn't blow it after all.

"There's more to the stars than you think," he said smugly.

Aqua crossed her arms and studied him for a bit.

What she said next surprised him - not because she believed him, or because she had her own secret to tell, but because he never really experienced someone who missed him before.

"Does that mean you'll have to leave soon?"

Those brief moments where she was smiling were so short.

"Maybe…" And Terra found himself sad, too. "Yeah. When the Master catches Ardyn, we'll have to go back home."

He didn't know if she was going to cry, but she didn't. She turned her nose up at him.

"You can't leave."

"Why not?"

"Because you're my friend now, and I won't let you."

Terra laughed because he had no other reaction. He didn't want to leave either, but he didn't say that out loud. What he realized instead was why she was so attached to Tod and Copper staying together: friendship meant a lot to her, maybe even as much as him, even though he didn't have any.

"We should find Copper tomorrow," he said. "It's wrong that they're separated."

She lit up. "Tod is lonely without him."

And Terra didn't want Tod to be lonely. "We could think of ways to get him back so we aren't caught."

"Promise?" She leaned near him, scanning his eyes for his oath.

Terra traced over his heart with one finger, and swore his first promise to someone who wasn't Eraqus. "Cross my heart."

******

After school the next day, Aqua minded her chores with such focus and speed that she finished earlier than expected and sought out Master Eraqus in the barn.

When she asked, "Mr. Eraqus, can Terra come out to play?" it was proof that yes, Terra did have a new friend. She was ready for the woods, replacing her dress with overalls and an excitable Tod by her feet.

Eraqus of course was pleased to hear that and sent Terra a smug grin before agreeing, which was probably the first time that Terra could remember being let go from his chores early.

Finding Copper was easy, and getting him out wasn't as hard as anticipated. Amos Slade relied too much on his intimidations, apparently, because Copper was there just the same. It took stealing a dog muzzle to contain Chief's barking so no one would be alerted.

Terra felt bad. He promised Chief that they'd all come back, even though Aqua told him that Chief hated Tod and wasn't nice either to anyone either.

Little Copper though was delighted.

And it turned out, babysitting small animals was tiring, and the two of them still went at it with their games while Terra and Aqua took turns lazily guessing the shapes of clouds.

They even talked some more about what he did as Eraqus' apprentice: what kind of classes he took, how far into defense training he had progressed so far, and whether he ever had to tolerate something dumb like math.

His answers were pretty honest except he never once mentioned the word Keyblade. It was a Keybearer's most important clause to keep that secret.

Watching dog and fox toss and tumble, practicing their survival skills on each other, gave Aqua a peculiar idea.

"Can you teach me how to fight?"

"That'd be fun. You're gonna show Pap's who's boss?"

"It's something I've always wanted to do, but Mama said it wasn't ladylike. It's too ferocious."

Terra stood up, at the ready. "It's not hard."

She hopped to a stance, her hands already in lifted. "Then show me."

"Well first…" He grabbed her wrists and brought them closer to her face. "You need to always protect yourself, and this will make it easier."

Then he lifted one open palm. "Try hitting me."

She threw her fist, and it smacked enough to sting.

"Ow," he whined.

Aqua's knuckles were already red from one punch, and she winced.

Terra shook his hand to relieve the pressure. "You hit hard, which isn't bad, but you're also hurting yourself." He lifted his other palm to spare the first. He remembered the way Eraqus spoke to him when he taught, going back to his earliest lessons. "Try thinking about your strength coming from your back, and use that to direct the punch."

It took several times, and Terra often switched palms for her to strike (it helped ease his pain). But Aqua took his lessons much faster than he expected, honestly, finally getting the proper amount of force in her punches without expecting her fingers to break.

"We use the same advice in ballet," she said.

"Really?"

"It's to make sure you're in alignment and you're moving properly."

"Oh!" He dropped a hand after she finished another throw straight into the center of it, now leveled off so that it didn't sting him anymore. "The Master and I talk about that stuff all the time. I didn't think it'd be useful in dance."

"Pfft." Suddenly she leaned off her focus on slugging and stood as straight as a rod. "Observe."

With feet turned out and a curve at her elbows, Aqua started to… well, bend her knees repeatedly.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"It's called a plié," she said as though he should know better. "Try it with me."

Turning out his feet was more uncomfortable than it looked, and he copied her movements, even when she brought one arm out to her side and swept the other across and over her head.

It looked easy to copy and honestly he got bored, but she started laughing -

He realized he never really heard her laugh before. It sounded like small bells, with a sparkle to her eyes. She looked different, alive almost.

"What's so funny?"

She mimicked what he was doing: hunched over, with his arms so curved that it looked like he was about to scratch his side and his head. "You look like a monkey."

"I do not."

He gave up, stomped his foot on the ground and swore to himself that he'd never dance again.

"Aww," she breathed, swallowing the rest of her loose laughs to regain some composure. "I didn't mean it that way. We can try something different."

"How about this," he interrupted, with a finger to command her attention. "We do a little competition and whoever wins gets to decide what game we should play."

Terra already had an idea in mind where he was sure he'd win.

"That sounds fun! What should we do?"

"Whoever does a handstand the longest wins."

Initially, he expected her to be intimidated, but she replied with, "That sounds easy. Let's do it."

It sunk his stomach, but he knew that he was good with this, so he should still be fine.

They bent over, and on his count of three, they lifted their legs into the air and balanced on their hands.

The blood rushed to his head, but he'd done this so many times that he breathed through it.

"Should we count it out?" he heard her say, his gaze somewhere off to the forest where Tod and Copper took a break from their roughhousing.

"What?"

"Count it out, like how many seconds it takes to do this?"

What was harder than breathing was talking in this position. "Nah."

"Okay." She sounded like she had no struggle in the world. "I used to take lots of gymnastics. I really miss it."

He really wished she would stop talking so he could concentrate on staying still.

"Cool," he muttered.

"I had a teacher who thought I would do well in competing," she continued, "but Papa wanted me to stay in school."

"Okay," he huffed.

"I've always wondered-"

He groaned, falling over onto his stomach into the thick grass underneath him, his head light. She glanced behind her, and with a smirk, gracefully went back on her feet and looked over him.

"I win!"

"Obviously."

"And I choose the game of…" She took a finger to her chin, very proud and very dismissive of his utter disappointment. "Hide and seek."

"Seriously?" He was going to refuse because he had pride and hurting it made him fume.

"I won, so we have to play. But Tod and Copper stay with you."

"Why?"

She waved her arm at him, already on her way, like he asked her a silly question. "They'd give my location away, and I'm not gonna let you cheat."

"Fine." He buried his face in arms against a tree and started to count out loud, listening closely to the direction of her steps so he had as many clues as possible; he was going to find her so quickly, she'd know immediately that he was worthy of respect, and she shouldn't ever laugh at him again.

"... Eight, nine, ten. Ready or not, here I come!" he yelled, the branches and bushes that surround him lightly swaying to a song he couldn't hear. The wind was just as gentle, leaving him alone to hear his own breath.

Copper sniffed the air, and Terra had the sinister thought of asking him to track her down - but that would be cheating, and Terra was better than that.

When he started his trek, the animals took notice. Tod's ears perked a little too much, like trying to decipher a sound that was garbled.

Terra went down the trail he believed she took. "Aqua?" he called - this never worked in hide and seek, but maybe it would trick her into giggling.

Tod and Copper followed closely at his ankles, never running ahead, never falling behind - which was weird, wouldn't they immediately react if she was nearby?

"Aqua," he called again, listening in for any ruffling.

It was quiet, like the forest was dead despite its lush green vitality, despite that it was daylight.

At this point, Tod's fluffy tail curled underneath him, and Copper dagged himself too close to the ground, chasing a scent in the dirt that took him in circles.

At this point, Terra spotted an owl - an owl - up at this hour, watching him like he was prey.

Getting into a staring contest with an owl was useless, and the longer Terra looked at her, the more he realized that she was waiting for something to happen.

The owl hooted, and against such quiet, it was thundered in his ears. Tod and Copper perked up at the warning -

And split from him, sprinting so quickly it was like they had to win a race to be allowed to live.

"Wait a min-"

They were gone, the owl leaving with them.

Aqua probably would yell at him for losing them.

If he'd ever talk to her again, that is.

"Aqua?" he called again, desperate for an answer. Praying that he'd find her fast, tripping over loose tree branches, hearing nothing but the noise of his own footsteps.

"Looking for someone?"

The voice came from behind.

A tall, tall man watched him with a diabolic smile. Wavy hair to his shoulders the same color as wine like it begged to be touched, thickly dressed in messy layers like he was homeless, like he was cold (it was way too hot for that).

Terra's heart beat and it went cold the moment he noticed the large-brimmed fedora.

"I-" Terra swallowed. A Keybearer was supposed to be brave. "I'm not, mister."

"Hmm," the man named Ardyn rubbed his chin. "I was wondering if you could point me in the correct direction," he said, words clearly pronounced and laced with an amusement that'd never die even if threatened. "I seem to have lost my way."

Terra nearly asked to please not hurt him, he didn't do anything wrong. "Town's over that way, mister." He pointed north, away from the Widow Tweed's farm.

Another voice rushed to his side. "Terra, don't!"

It was Aqua, breathless when she grabbed his hand. Her pupils shrunk to the size of flies, and she whispered to his ear, "It's the bad man."

"Aha!" Ardyn exclaimed like greeting an old friend he forgot about. "How long it has been to see you, Aqua." Ardyn slipped off his hat and bowed his head to give her a more respectful greeting.

Aqua shuddered, her grip on Terra's hand cutting off circulation to his fingers.

Terra didn't know what to do. This man looked bigger than his Master, and Terra never defeated his teacher in hand-to-hand combat before.

So he froze.

Worse - the moment Ardyn straightened out, his face was different: glowing yellow eyes, black oil seeping from them and from his scalp and from his mouth. He was already a dead man who spoke.

"It's been a pleasure," he said as he wore his hat again. "Good night, sweet child. Sleep will certainly hurt less."

Terra gripped her hand back.

Aqua hid behind his shoulder.

Ardyn raised a palm, the glow of magenta and black puffs of smoke electrifying at his fingertips.

Terra looked away, shut his eyes, got closer to her.

It hurt. It was sore like a dull hit to his chest and it banged loudly -

But he flew, with Aqua grabbing him by the waist and flying with him, as the blast threw them background and they used the momentum to float away, past the trees, past Tod and Copper who were still running, until they were dropped to the ground, rolling in a mess of fallen leaves.

Terra was alive, and finally he breathed. They were near Mrs. Tweed's house, her chimney sticking up above the trees.

He scurried to his knees and fiddled with his necklace, pulling out the knotted symbol. It disintegrated into dust after carrying them here.

The plan! Stay calm. Find the Master. Immediately he stood on his feet, and slipped on leaves.

The mission! He still had to protect the mission. He turned heel and went back to Aqua.

"What was that?" he heard Aqua mumble. She was still picking herself up, removing leaves from her hair.

"Magic. C'mon." He grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her, running as fast as he could.

"Master!" he cried when they got near the farmhouse, Tod and Copper yipping from their fright.

Abigail fussed and she was loud enough that they heard her from the barn. In the distance, Chief wouldn't stop barking. The wind howled, and the clouds darkened. A gunshot ruptured in the distance.

Eraqus stepped off the front porch, telling the widow to stay indoors. "Step inside," he instructed Terra and Aqua. "And stay inside."

"Master-"

"Now."

Another gunshot, closer this time.

Copper and Tod followed them inside the house, rushing under furniture. Mrs. Tweed locked the door behind them as Eraqus continued his way into the field. Terra climbed the kitchen counter to take a look.

"Stay away from the windows!" she commanded, and Terra jumped off to head upstairs.

"Wait for me," he heard Aqua squeak but he paid no attention to her.

He rushed through the upstairs hallway, into the master bedroom, right to the windows where he threw the curtains open.

Moments ago it was broad daylight but now it threatened to storm.

Eraqus summoned his Keyblade in a crackle of light, Ardyn now creeping close.

The demon hunched over, the oil dripping out of his coat-sleeve. Sparks of purple light surrounding him, and the ghosts of swords and axes and cleavers swirled in the air in a cycle, a record of ages that passed by for how long this thing had been living.

He used them to strike the Master, slicing and dicing and scratching metal with metal.

Deflected, far enough to strike a tree nearby the second-floor window and Terra and Aqua had to duck.

"Your Master is a sorcerer?" she asked.

It wasn't incorrect. "Eh?"

"I read about them in books," she said as they peeked over the windowsill.

"Shh."

Eraqus summoned chains, gold and blinding and huge, to whip Ardyn - it was the coolest thing Terra had ever seen him do.

Ardyn said something indecipherable, and with a yell, Eraqus summoned something larger: a giant warp that swallowed the demon away before reshaping into a giant keyhole in the sky.

One that the Master promptly locked, the sound of the turnkey snapping everything into silence.

The sun fought through the clouds, and the wind calmed slowly.

Eraqus trudged back to the house, holding his arm as he dismissed his Keyblade, and he limped enough for Terra to bolt back downstairs, leaving Aqua to follow him once again.

The house was messier, like it survived a small earthquake with books toppled over and desks in the wrong position.

He found the Master settled on a loveseat while Mrs. Tweed rushed to get him water.

"I was unable to vanquish him," Eraqus said through large breaths. "But he has been barred from ever coming back to this world."

"Miracles do exist!" Mrs. Tweed exclaimed as she handed him a mug. "Bless you, good sir. I never in my life expected such a spectacle when you showed up around here."

"Miracles," the Master repeated. That was going to be the story for the rest of time to these people, of a man who came from nowhere to perform miracles that saved the town, Mrs. Tweed being the only witness to a harsh storm that raged and died in a matter of minutes.

Terra sat closely to his Master, not to take his hand or to hug him, but to listen to him calm down.

In the chaos, Terra didn't realize that it made him scared to watch Eraqus march his way to battle. Knowing now that everything was alright, it took all his strength to look like he wasn't overwhelmed.

Now the people of this world were safe, and Eraqus was the hero. The thing about his Master was that he showed no fear in the heat of battle, when Terra nearly wet his pants earlier. If he was ever going to get better, he had a long way to go.

Mainly, Terra was just happy that he still had family at the end of it all.

"I want to do what you do," he heard a small voice pipe up.

Aqua stared hard at Eraqus, determination on fire in her eyes, awed and fierce and hopeful.

The Master wasn't surprised by her admission. "You want to save people?"

"Yes," she said simply.

Mrs. Tweed threw her hand to her chest. "In all my life-"

"I want to banish demons," Aqua continued.

"That sounds perfectly unsafe," Mrs. Tweed said.

Eraqus chuckled. Terra thought that he may have succeeded his first mission because it gave the Master what he wanted - a new, promising student. "It can be a dangerous life, but I assure you that she would be safe with me."

Mrs. Tweed eyed Terra, suspicions mounting in her mind. "The young boy, he is…?"

"Yes, ma'am," Terra said. "I'm his apprentice, and I'm training to do the very same thing."

"Aqua," Mrs. Tweed implored, "you are certain?"

A sad cloud hovered over Aqua's eyes before dissipating in an instant. "Thank you so much for taking care of me, Mrs. Tweed… but I've been called a hippie all my life for my name. I don't belong here. I never did."

Eraqus stood straighter, interlacing his fingers and addressing the widow. "I only take children who have no families nor a place to go, children who I am certain will perform spectacularly."

Aqua leaned forward with a hand to her heart. "Please take me. I'll be a good student. I can do ballet and gymnastics, I'll make perfect grades and-"

"You have a strong heart," Eraqus said to her with a warm smile.

She blinked, not understanding what he really meant but she nodded anyway.

And Terra saw it - or felt it, he wasn't sure. It was like a tug to his own heart, a flash and a tickle before it faded. This was what Eraqus was talking about.

He saw the light within Aqua, a warm, strong embrace, like he was meant to feel safe with her and meant to keep it protected.

It was pretty even though he couldn't really see it.

And Terra wondered if he emanated the same. He thought that one night when he tried to bring it out of himself and he couldn't, and how he went to sleep wondering if he had it at all.

He wondered if his was as strong as hers, and if he was doomed to fail because it wasn't.

******

Aqua said she cried more than she expected when she said goodbye to Mrs. Tweed, even though Terra never saw anything.

She was stronger when she said goodbye to Tod, rubbing the fur on his chest a little while longer because she never wanted to forget the way it felt.

"Do you think they'll stay friends forever?" she asked Terra.

If she was talking about Copper… "Of course they will." A fox and a hound were opposites by nature, in a violent cycle that would never end but friendship was supposed to be strong and indestructible, and Tod and Copper were the very best of friends. Nothing would tear them apart.

"Always stay together, okay Tod?" she whispered to the fox, before giving him a quiet farewell.

This was a few days after the battle with Ardyn. By this time, people started visiting the farmhouse to ask Eraqus all sorts of questions: if he was a magician, if he was sent from the heavens, if he was the devil, if all the demonic stuff was nonsense, if the murderer was killed…

Either way, Eraqus respected the laws of the world and they all had to wait until papers were written, agreed upon, and signed for his protection over Aqua as one of his own.

Today was the day to finally take her to the Land of Departure. She didn't have much: one pack of luggage, and one hard, gray folder.

When Terra asked what was inside, she said it was the only picture of her parents that survived the fire.

The three of them hiked into the woods. She started asking the basic need-to-know: what a Keyblade was, the eternal fight between light and darkness, where the Land of Departure was located -

"We're going to fly there, right?" Aqua asked.

Eraqus shot Terra a look, now that she admitted that she knew information she wasn't supposed to know.

"We are indeed." Eraqus stopped the hike, halting the other two behind him, and bent to his knees. "I have one question left for you, Aqua."

By the sound of his voice, Terra knew he was testing her.

"In the deepest part of your heart, why is it that you want to wield the Keyblade?" he asked.

She took a moment, the folder with her parent's photo wrapped in her arms. "I want to make my parents proud. I want to make sure nothing like this ever happens again to someone else."

By the way the Master nodded, she passed. "The Keyblade is a powerful weapon, Aqua. You are still young, and you won't be able to conjure your own for a few years, but you must always know that your strength is bright and strong. It is not to be used for purposes of vengeance."

Aqua nodded. "Revenge feels yucky to me."

With that, the Master was relieved. He patted her head. "Admirable. When we arrive at the castle, you will spend the rest of the day for leisure, but tomorrow we will start your first formal class."

She beamed, and Terra remembered similar excitement at the thought of starting classes with Eraqus, too. He used to be called a nerd for liking school.

"We're going to be students in the same class," she said to Terra, like she was looking forward to it.

Terra didn't know how to respond. Class was class, students were students. Friends were… they acted like they cared. "Uh, yeah."

"I can't wait, Mr. Eraqus," she said. "I'm going to make the best grades."

"W-wha?" Terra stuttered.

"First I must start your bequeathing, Aqua. Come." He gestured to her over by the nearby creek.

"This is going to be fun," she said to Terra before hopping over.

He watched the bequeathing, similar to how he went through it for the first time years ago, when the Master summoned a giant key and spoke a few fancy words. The energy from the magic passed from the weapon through his fingertips, up to his heart to ignite something that Terra later realized was probably always there.

The Keyblade was picky about who it chose and it chose Aqua today.

What it'd be like to wake up to a new person in his home, Terra had no idea what to expect. They would play and swap stories, he'd have a new fighting partner. Maybe he'd be allowed to go into the woods without supervision.

Something about it bugged him, though. Was it possible that he could be kicked out of the academy if he didn't measure up? What if Eraqus liked her better and liquified his adoption?

What would happen once Eraqus found out that her light was brighter than Terra's?

Suddenly, having a friend sounded like more trouble than it's worth.

To be continued...

This chapter makes references to the Fox and the Hound (1981).

#terraqua #terra #aqua #eraqus #ardyn izunia #the fox and the hound #kingdom hearts fanfic #kh fanfic #LOOK WHAT CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD #my fic

37 notes · View notes