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aveyna · 4 years

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The Seal of Approval

SUMMARY: In which Nuru liberates a seal, Yong gets adopted, Hugo is a gay pining disaster, and Varian is the sole voice of reason.

Alternatively, Nuru partakes in the age old tradition of toppling a monarchy.

[NOTE] Apparently the desire to see Varian get slapped by a seal was strong, judging by my last post.

AO3 LINK

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“Can I at least take him for everything he’s worth?”

“For the last time, no, Hugo. You cannot be rude to the king, you cannot antagonize him, you cannot make fun of his beard, and hell, you definitely cannot kill him.” Varian sighs. After their last run in with Donella and her goons, they had just barely made it to the kingdom of Equis. He is only so close to choking this brilliantly stupid idiot with those dumb goggles he refuses to wear like they’re intended to. “I’d like to sleep under a roof for one lousy evening.”

“Oh, come on, hairstripe. If not thievery, can’t I commit a little murder?” Hugo whines, placing his arm dramatically over his eyes. “What else do I have to live for?”

It’s during times like these that Varian almost wishes he could go back to the way he used to be, before he and the princess had made amends. His younger self would not have hesitated to kick this sorry excuse of an alchemist to the curb. He loves him, truly, he does. The same can be said for Nuru and Yong, but he has just about had it. He had left on this journey in-search of his mother, but instead, he was stuck on babysitting duty.

Distantly, he wonders if this is how Eugene felt with his past failures on the hot water boilers. He visibly shudders at the memory.

No, let’s not think about that.

“Then die.” Varian glares up at the taller man who was currently leaning on him. Scowling, he removes the other arm that he had perched on-top of his head.

“Don’t be so heartless,” Hugo laughs. He smirks at Varian, but it softens ever so slightly. It seems almost fond and gentle, but quickly, it is wiped off from his face. “Huh, you really do make for a very nice armrest.”

“Glad that’s all I’m good for,” Varian grumbles, brows furrowed in annoyance.

Yong jumps up, waving his arms erratically as if he needed to expend that much effort in garnering Varian’s attention.

“Yes, Yong?” Varian asks, smiling pleasantly at his shorter friend.

“You’re also pretty!” Yong says. The color from Hugo’s face immediately drains.

“Wha—” Varian laughs, but it does nothing to dissuade the complete awkwardness of this situation.

“That’s what Hugo always says!”

“Haha, no, my dear Yong,” Hugo exclaims, speaking a bit too fast and loud. He had rushed over to the pyromaniac, clamping his hands over him. “He’s got it completely wrong. I never said you looked pretty.”

“No, but I heard—” Yong breaks free Hugo’s grip, only to be interrupted.

“Boys, boys, as entertaining as this may be, we’re drawing a crowd,” Nuru says, lips upturned in a half smile. Her golden eyes are lit up in mirth. Clearly, Varian can tell she finds amusement in his misery.

He raises his head, and…it looks like her assessment was correct. Surprisingly, a large number of people had gathered, eyes boring into the strange group with varying degrees of confusion and judgment. Yong had immediately jumped at the chance to talk with some kids his age who were conspiratorially whispering to one another as they pointed towards Varian.

Yong nods, easily blending into the crowd. His expression is resolute as he earnestly listens before turning his eyes towards Varian.

His feet are nailed to the spot, unable to shirk away from the attention. He feels as if he is a fish out of water, but…he cannot move. His two so-called friends had an iron-clad grip on his arms. “Let’s hear what they have to say. Afterall, we wouldn’t want to disappointment Yong,” Hugo concedes in a mocking fashion.

If I must suffer, I won’t do it alone, his eyes seem to say.

“Varian, hey, Varian, guess what—!!” The pyromaniac looks towards his new friends before nodding in understanding once more. “They just told me something really cool! Apparently you’re famous!?”

Immediately, his reality comes crashing down. With Yong’s well-meaning statement, Varian stumbles back as if he were scathed by boiling water. He has done many things he wasn’t proud of over the course of his life. Varian…he had been hurt. He had hurt others, but, here, in this time and place, this family that he has found…it will all come crashing down. It hurts to look at Yong’s bright expression with the knowledge that it’ll soon morph to one of contempt or even pity. He lowers his head, bangs shrouding his downcast eyes.

“Hugo, didn’t Varian kidnap the Queen of Corona?”

His head immediately whips towards Nuru, eyes wide in bewilderment. What in the world—

“He sure did,” Hugo replies in a dispassionate tone. “What a hypocrite you are, goggles. You forbid me from stealing a single jewel, yet you get to commit attempted murder?”

They’re…they’re not disappointed in me?

“Way to hog all the fun for yourself,” Hugo lightly chides, glancing down at Varian in a condescending manner.

Varian’s eyes are glassy. He feels tears begin to prick at the corner of his eyes, but he hastily wipes at his face. There is so much to unpack here. Does he even deserve their understanding? Like his father and the king, he had been keeping secrets from his friends. They’d traversed across countless kingdoms and nearly died in the process. They had laughed, cried, shared good and bad moments, but for reasons unbeknownst to him, they still remain by his side.

With everything they have done by merely staying by his side, he—

Wait.

How did they find out!!?

Hugo adjusts his wire-rimmed glasses as he nonchalantly states, “Don’t shoot us that look, goggles. You’re acting like we kicked your raccoon.”

At this, Varian’s initial agitation at the infuriating man returns ten-fold.

“Why you—don’t bring Ruddiger into this!!” Varian seethes, standing up on the tips as he grabs Hugo by the goggles placed over his neck. His threat had come full-circle. Now, he is this close to murdering his fellow alchemist.

Nuru looks between her two older companions. Earlier, she had found a disconnected amusement in their bickering. She had always been alone growing up; it was hard to find someone close to her age to forge a genuine connection with. But here, with these two moronic geniuses and a kid who would most likely commit grand arson in a few years tops, she felt…included, complete…as if she were not a princess burdened with a heavy task and instead, a normal girl.

Still, it would be best to calm Varian before he gets a one-way ticket to prison. She cannot possibly understand how he thought they would never find out; the signs were obvious enough!

“You would not believe how popular books on recent Coronian news are,” Nuru articulates, thinking back to her initial surprise upon finding chapters upon chapters on Varian’s initial [clearly not one-sided] betrayal of their princess and eventual redemption. Under most circumstances she would have had him thrown out of her kingdom, but she had seen his kindness first-hand.

He had been abandoned when he was young; cast aside by those he had once admired. His problems were definitely more complicated than that, and its connections were deeply entrenched within the machinations of his kingdom and beyond, but—

If he had gone out of his way to right his wrongs, she could tell he was a good person at heart, and certainly one she would not mind to have right by her side when traversing the great unknown.

“You also talk in your sleep,” Yong mentions, eager to help out.

Varian’s jaw drops, mind reeling at their confessions. Various expressions flicker across his face, but his words…clearly do not do his thoughts justice.

“Oh, shit,” he says.

Hugo playfully goads the shorter alchemist, attempting to rile him into another argument. “I thought you said no cursing around Yong?”

The blue-eyed alchemist merely looks past the taller man and points. Curious, Hugo turns.

“Oh, shit,” Hugo hisses.

---

Underneath the sunny, brightly lit sky of Equis, Hugo…is confronted with his worst nightmare. No, even that would be too kind a word. Nothing can describe the complete loathing and disgust he feels at this very moment, not when he is face to face with the vilest person he has ever had the misfortune of encountering again. Even six years is not enough time away from this madman.

Clearly, time had not been kind to him. Not that it had ever been, if Hugo were to be honest.

Though…now he has a seal.

That’s new, Hugo offhandedly mutters, staring at the seal wearing a lavish necklace and golden crown while…still hideous, actually shoots him, unlike this man glaring daggers at him.

Nuru, however, her eyes…they are the brightest that they have ever been. She looks as if she had been struck by an arrow. Hugo looks at her, clearly disturbed at the princess’s…unusual behavior. “What. Is. That!?”

She is shaking Varian’s shoulders, eyes filled with stars as gazes at the seal in an awed reverence.

“A seal…?” Varian responds, somewhat worried by Nuru’s words, until…realization dawns on him. “Oh.”

“He’s…majestic,” she practically shouts, smile impossibly bright. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.”

We’ve lost her, Hugo deadpans.

“What are you four miscreants doing in my kingdom?” the king of Equis, Trevor, demands as he narrows his eyes at the four friends. Quickly, he looks towards the crowd, only to have them quietly disperse, but—

Not without shooting another curious glance towards their pathetic excuse of a traveling group.

“I’m sorry about my friends, King Trevor,” Varian murmurs, casting a small glance towards Hugo and the others, as if beckoning them to remain calm and quiet. He looks at Nuru, but she has clearly lost herself to this newfound discovery.

“Clearly,” the king guffaws. “Wait, I know you from somewhere…”

His attention immediately snaps towards Varian, who is doing his best to hide behind Hugo. “Save me,” he says.

I’m sorry. You’re on your own, Varian. Hugo relents, glancing between the alchemist and king.

“You must be mistaken, I—”

“Yeah, you’re that alchemist from Corona,” King Trevor utters, voice laced in suspicion. “You’re not working for that fool, Frederic, are you? Trying to steal the secrets of my great kingdom—wanting to overthrow my rule and displace all of my people? Good, hard-working, law abiding people, might I add.”

Him? Willingly work for the king? He’d rather die.

Varian’s eyes crinkle in disgust. He may be on good terms with Rapunzel, but it doesn’t mean he wants anything to do with her father. “What, of course not!”

At his words, King Trevor marches past Hugo, red cape swishing as he levels his eyes with Varian. “You’re lying. Trevor Jr., come here—!!”

Hugo inaudibly chortles. He named his seal after himself?

“Arf,” the royal seal states, slowly moving its flippers as it waddles towards them. Its movement is so languid that anxiety begins to fester among their group until…eventually, it finally reaches the king.

“Go on,” he says, urging his pet seal towards Varian.

It turns its head towards Varian as it stares into the alchemist’s blue eyes. The alchemist cannot breathe as the seal regards him with a contemplative expression…at least, he thinks the seal is contemplating.

A moment passes, until, “Arf,” Trevor Jr. says once again.

He raises a flipper.

Yong’s hands are pressed to his face; smile impossibly wide as he awaits the royal seal’s verdict.

“Arf,” the seal barks. The flipper comes down and a resounding slap is heard.

Varian cannot believe this. Did he…

Did I just get bitch slapped by a seal!!?

“Arf arf,” Trevor Jr. huffs, head raised high as he turns away from Varian. The king’s eyes light up with a mirthless glee as he clears his throat.

“Trevor Jr. has spoken,” the king extrapolates. “He is displeased, and for this…you, Varitas, will be sentenced to death.”

“Actually, his name’s Varian,” Hugo corrects, helping Varian to his feet after he had been knocked over by the seal. He shoots a look towards Nuru, but her hands are pressed against her face, sporting the brightest grin he had ever seen on the princess.

He should be more sympathetic, but this is just too good to pass up. Sniggering, Hugo says, “Can’t believe a seal rejected you.”

Varian glares at the older alchemist, but…screw this. He is too done with this day. All he wanted was one peaceful day. Just one, but instead, here he was…public enemy number one again…and Trevor Jr.’s surprisingly hard slap certainly didn’t help.

He makes a move to retort, only for his words to be broken off by laughter.

“I think he likes me,” Yong cackles, petting the seal, eyes starry in wonder and amazement.

A whirlwind of thoughts goes off in his head; the weasel-like king seems genuinely conflicted, before casting a fond smile at the seal. He visibly sighs. “As much as it pains me to this say this, your execution…will be put off for now. Your little friend has gained the trust of Trevor Jr, so—”

No.

“He has gotten—” Time stands to a halt as Varian stares at the king in horror.

Don’t say it, he and Hugo internally scream. Yong seems oblivious, but Nuru…she has lost herself to the cuteness of the seal.

“—The seal of approval.”

Varian cringes. “Just kill me now.”

The taller alchemist merely pats his back in understanding. He, too, is visibly shaken by…the king’s choice of words. “Only if you kill me first.”

King Trevor looks towards Yong as if he were an ant. “Feel blessed, child. I do not know why, but my Trevor Jr. has taken a liking to you.”

“Do not disappointment him,” he yells at the sky, both fists curled into balls at his sides. “He is my baby; the only person in this world that I hold near and dear to my heart. Whatever Trevor Jr. says is the law.”

“I’m Yong,” the alchemist exclaims an introduction. He looks up at the king in amazement. “Woah, are you two wearing matching clothes!? That’s. So. Cool!”

The king audibly deflates, at a loss for words.

“I like your beard; it’s fancy! Do you think I’ll get a fancy beard when I grow up?”

No, no, please don’t, Varian laments. He had gone that route once upon a time. Those fingerless gloves, fanged bandana, the goatee. Yong should not commit the same mistakes he had committed in his past.

“Oh, you do?” King Trevor says, twirling his mustache. “You never know, eh, but…probably. You look just like me in my youth. Just, nowhere near as tall. Or handsome.”

“He does?” Hugo deadpans.

“Of course he does! Can you not see the resemblance, boy?” the king barks. “We look exactly alike. Why, he’s practically the son I never wanted.”

“Does this mean I have two dads now? And a mom?” The pyromaniac tilts his head in confusion. “I don’t remember them getting a divorce.”

King Trevor pauses, contemplating Yong’s words for a moment. “I guess you do now.”

“Well, eventually, I will need a successor, and seeing that I have no children, why not?” He glances at his seal. “If Trevor Jr. approves of you, who am I to judge?”

Yong’s hands are clasped together, clearly ecstatic. The sight is so blinding that Varian almost has to shield his eyes. “Which one of my parents did you marry?”

“Eh, who cares,” King Trevor dismisses.

The pyromaniac presses his hands to his face, mouth forming a silent ‘o’. “Just wait until I tell my siblings!”

“Follow me, Yoshi,” the king says, as he walks away from the other three teens. “There’s so much you must learn about Equis if you want to rule over my kingdom with an iron fist.”

“Don’t you mean kind and just?” Yong says, eyes starry and impossibly bright.

“Oh, silly, naïve Yoro,” the king chides. “You have so much to learn.”

“Hold on, you can’t take Yong,” Varian exclaims in anger, placing himself between the Yong, the king, and Trevor Jr.

A moment passes…complete and utter silence. The king raises his hand, but—

“It’s fine, Varian!” Yong beams. “Guess this is my life now.”

“No, Yong, it’s not fine—”

“Trust me,” the shorter boy says. His expression darkens, but Varian must have been imagining it. “I need to make my father proud; I’m sure you understand.”

The alchemist makes a move to run after Yong and the king, but Trevor Jr. had gotten in the way—lethargically following after the unlikely duo, but not before casting one final look of complete loathing at Varian. He shirks back on himself, the memories from the previous grueling minutes replaying in his mind.

As he watches their retreating forms disappear into the distance, Varian makes a vow. “I’ll save you even if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

“May the moon have mercy on his soul,” Hugo snarks, slightly concerned…but not for Yong. Oh no, definitely not for him.

“I’ve met the moon,” Varian responds. “Personally, not her biggest fan.”

---

Meanwhile, Hugo is waving his hand over the dazed princess. “Goggles, I think she’s broken.”

“I’ve never seen anyone so perfect in my life,” Nuru squeals, hugging Varian as she recalls the wondrous sea creature. “We don’t have anything like him back in my kingdom.”

“Have…you seriously never seen a seal?” Varian asks, dumfounded.

“When you grow up in a kingdom constantly bombarded by meteors, you…don’t get much in the way of wildlife,” Nuru responds, an intense gaze in her eyes as she jumps up. Resolutely, she looks forward, determination laced in her voice. “I’m going to rescue Trevor Jr. from that wretched king.”

“You’ll start a war if you do that, Nuru.” Perhaps it had been the stressful day that he has had. Afterall, he was slapped by a seal, only to be nearly executed. Yong was whisked away by a king, and Nuru wants to steal a seal. Somehow, his only ally in this madness was the source of his many, many migraines. Varian leans in to Hugo, sighing as he closes his eyes in tiredness. “The king will be after our heads.”

A luminescent blush forms on his face as Varian leans against him. The alchemist had always been oblivious to his attempts at courting him. That, or downright sadistic in his dismissals. He’d rather be turned down right then and there rather than holding onto false hope. Even if he were to tell Varian directly that he liked him, the alchemist, bless his poor, oblivious heart, would merely smile and say, “I like you too, Hugo. You’re a good friend.”

But now, with Princess Nuru on the hunt for blood, and Yong somehow becoming royalty, he…can make his move. Finally, this will be his one and only chance. The perfect moment to ask the shorter alchemist out on a date.

“No fair,” Nuru says, sticking her tongue out at Varian.

Since when has she been such a brat, Varian wonders in sheer exhaustion and annoyance.

“Worry not, goggles,” Hugo laughs, glancing over at Nuru as she makes a hasty [and certainly not discrete] exit. “She’s at that age when there’s only one thing on her mind.”

“Homicide?” Varian mumbles, burying his face onto Hugo’s arm.

“No. Well, yes, but aren’t we all?” the bespectacled man replies sincerely. “She’s partaking in the age-old tradition of over-throwing the monarchy.”

“Oh.”

“Absolutely right you are, hairstripe,” Hugo responds, squinting as he gazes up at the sky. Quite some time had passed; he’s sure it’s well past lunch with the insanity that they had been pulled into. “So….”

“Sooooooo,” Varian says. “Want to grab a bite to eat?”

“Hell yes,” Hugo beams.

---

After breaking away from Varian and Hugo, Nuru had made off towards the castle. Certainly, it was not easy to miss—the sight of its gaudy walls was impossible to not see even from a distance. She was never one for physically taxing activities such as running across a large populated city, but with the powers of sheer determination and spite, she was ready as she would ever be.

With a seal to save, Nuru knew she could accomplish anything.

Sneaking into the castle was easy enough…surprisingly, or not. King Trevor did not have much in the way of military or police, but what he did have…were portraits of himself. A chill ran down her spine as she avoided the smarmy gaze of the portraits, who, while a fraction as annoying as the king…did not amount to much.

“I’ll save you, Trevor Jr.,” she promises, as she crosses past yet another seal statue.

Only the sounds of her nimble footsteps break the paper-thin stillness of the castle. For a place that should be brimming with life [especially as it is the daytime], she had not seen eye or flipper of any humans or seals. The lunar princess continues to walk in silence, but there it is. She detects movement at the corner of her eye.

It is soft, quiet, as if…someone else were sneaking around. Could this be an ally or a foe? Both outcomes were possible in a kingdom with a king like Trevor.

Nuru darts behind a seal statue, waiting quietly, anxious as to whom she will possibly see. She waits and waits…

Another moment passes, but the mystery person never arrives.

“Guess I was worried over nothing,” Nuru laughs, still feeling a bit uneasy and agitated over what could have been.

“Hiya, Nuru!!”

She certainly did not jump up in surprise at the sound of Yong’s voice. If anyone asks, she…saw a spider. Yes, that was it. That was definitely, most certainly the one and only reason.

Somehow, without her notice, he had snuck past her…and has discovered her hiding place behind the gaudy [begrudgingly cute] seal statue.

“What are you doing here?” they both simultaneously ask.

“You first,” they both say.

Yong beams up at her, hand pressed over his heart. “I want to make my father proud.”

“Oh,” Nuru responds, struggling between her emotions of rescuing Trevor Jr., destroying Equis, and not disappointing Yong…which would be an inexcusable in and of itself. She’s about to say more, but the shorter boy merely pulls at her sleeve.

“Are you planning to take Trevor Jr.?” Yong is not looking at her. Rather, his gaze is directed somewhere far ahead.

“What if I say I am?” the princess inquires, arms crossed in defiance. Her loyalty towards him is great, but the seal…it beckons to her with its smart, inquisitive ‘arf’. “What will you do then, Yong?”

He is silent. Nuru feels beads of sweat roll down her face in anticipation. Another moment passes, and then another, until…Yong beams up at her with the cheeriest expression she had yet ever seen on him or any other person. “Will it make my father proud if we release Trevor Jr. into the sea?”

She narrows her eyes at Yong, searching his face for any signs of betrayal or trickery. But…there is nothing. Only a hint of mischief in his smile. “Yes,” she concedes. “I suppose it will make him proud.”

At this, Yong cackles, hands raised to his sides as one would see on a mad scientist. Maybe…he has been spending too much time with Varian, Nuru notes, slightly disturbed and yet…impressed.

---

Honestly, Hugo does not know what to make of this situation. They had been off in-search of the perfect sandwich shop [he wanted to spend time with Varian, but he wasn’t lying. It was well past three and he was starving], but…he got neither a date nor a sandwich. Instead, he was granted the fortune of sneaking into a stupid king’s castle and no lunch. He at least had Varian by his side, but…he really wanted food. Even a cracker would do at this point.

He had originally thought the princess to be prissy and snuck-up like the nobles back home, but she had quickly gone above his expectations. Hugo could nearly cry at the proud feelings he felt as he saw her sneak into the castle.

Nuru was completely insane. She was feral in her attempts to rescue this seal through and through, and he could not get any prouder.

Truly, he was proud of her. He would very much like to shake her hand under any given circumstance and take her under his wing, but now…he is just irritated and very hungry. How long they had been wandering the corridors of this castle, he does not know. He eyes glance down towards Varian, and…yeah. The shorter alchemist definitely looks to be on edge, not that the [creepy] portraits the king had ‘decorated’ the castle with have done to help.

Hell, they…had stumbled upon one room in-which King Trevor had taped his face on top of a family portrait…which he had somehow stolen(?) from the king of Corona. It was very, very creepy. He and Varian are both convinced that he is stalking the poor queen, but…that is a disturbing problem for another day. Faces blank, they both sped walked out of that room, eyes downcast underneath the watchful gaze of the Queen Arianna and his royal travesty, King Trevor.

“Ugh, where do you think Nuru ran off to?” Hugo complains, cringing at yet another excessively ornate and gaudy portrait of the king.

Varian shoots him a quick glance. “If I knew, we wouldn’t be here.”

Their steps continue across the empty castle…really, the sight is rather eerie if Hugo were to be honest. Unfortunately, their luck had just about run out. Rounding a corner, there…are two guards sporting the official crest of Equis.

“Great, just our luck,” Varian sighs. The guards seem to have heard their voices. Quickly, the younger alchemist grabs his hand before shoving the both of them into a broom closet. It’s rather small, and uncomfortable, but…hopefully, the guards will not think to look here.

“This cannot possibly be your brilliant plan, goggles,” Hugo deadpans, trying no to stammer at how close they are.

Varian merely rolls his eyes at the taller alchemist. “Oh, just shut up and kiss me.”

Hugo locks eyes with Varian, mouth agape as the goggles he wears around his neck are grabbed until he is at eye-level with the alchemist. His mind is floundering. He cannot think, cannot speak, and Varian…his eyes had always been so blue. But, they almost seem to be glowing…or maybe it’s the theoretical sparks that he had always heard about literally igniting in his head. He had always prided himself on his persona—the suave playboy act that he had crafted for himself.

And yet, all it took was for a smart, stupid, but surprisingly kind alchemist to undo all of his hard work.

He makes a move to say something, but Varian merely glares past him.

“Do you mind?” the shorter alchemist drawls, voice as sharp and scathing as a freshly sharpened knife. Hugo inwardly protests at Varian’s withdrawal, but he is still reeling. Had…Varian finally realized his feelings for him? Were his affections finally reciprocated?

“Ahem,” a guard coughs into the crook of his arm, eyes averted from Varian’s icy gaze. “Sorry for interrupting you two. Uh, carry on……”

"Lousy teenagers,' Hugo hears them say.

Varian listens to their footsteps fade away before devolving into a fit of laughter. He wipes at his eyes, grinning brightly at Hugo as he helps him out of the broom closet. “I can’t believe that worked!”

“Yeah, I’ll say,” Hugo responds, still clearly dazed. Wait…worked? Was this a setup!?

As he listens to Varian drone on about ‘The Adventures of Flynn Rider’, his face must be undeniably crestfallen. All it takes is one look for the dark-haired alchemist to immediately shut up. Now silent, the duo continues to walk across the marble floors of the castle with only the gaudy decorations adorning its walls for company.

Varian wants to break the silence somehow, but there’s something off about Hugo. His demeanor had soured, but it’s not even just that. He seems more agreeable and not at all his usual sarcastic self. There are no taunts or joking retorts. The bespectacled man merely seems to be lost in his own thoughts. It should be a welcome change, but considering everything that they had gone through this day, he cannot help but worry. He raises his head and reaches for Hugo, only to jump up in surprise at the large cacophony of wild laughter and screams coming from down the hall.

Their senses are immediately filled with the bitter scent of smoke, and…yeah. Looks like they found Yong, and…judging by the sound of rushing water, they’d bet Nuru was there with him.

Without giving it a second thought, Varian grabs Hugo’s hand and races down the hallway with him in tow.

In other circumstances, Hugo would complain. But with Varian, he would follow him til’ the ends of the earth.

“REVOLUTION!! FREEDOM FOR ALL!” Nuru cackles as she races down the hall with not just Trevor Jr. following her, but another seal with a slightly smaller crown. “We will not stand for this tyranny any longer, isn’t that right, Yong!?”

“Stick it to the man!” Yong pumps his fists into the air. He, too, has decided to partake in this bout of teenage rebellion. The hallway is billowing gray smoke, and they can hear the angered screams of…what appears to be the king.

Varian stares at Trevor Jr.

The seal stares back.

---

Somehow, despite everything, they have finally made it out of the kingdom of Equis [relatively] unscathed. Varian is sure he may have lost a bit of his sanity, but…that would not be the first time it happened. And he is sure it most certainly will not be the last.

As he looks back towards Nuru and her new seal brethren, he is sure of it.

The kingdom of Equis may have sworn vengeance against them and their descendents for generations to come, but…Varian can live with that. But what he cannot possibly understand, however, is Yong’s toothy grin. It is unsettling with just how plain cheery this boy can be. If he could, he’d ignore it. But, Yong’s incessant wide-eyed gaze will not cease until he gets to say whatever it is in that strange, strange, terrifying mind of his.

“Yes, Yong, what is it?” Varian sighs for the umpteenth time that day.

Yong beams up at the alchemist. “Do you think my dad will finally be proud of me?”

Why, I don’t know, Yong, he murmurs to himself. He had set King Trevor’s castle on fire, lied, cheated, and stolen his royal seal… “Yeah, I guess.”

“Great,” Yong chirps. “Maybe now I’ll be the favorite child!”

At this, the three older teens stop in the tracks, staring mouths agape at the would-be arsonist.

“Dad hates King Trevor,” the short boy explains, grinning up at his friends. “Something about a fireworks deal gone wrong…”

His sentence falls into obscurity. But, these are words best left unsaid.

“Well, you’re my favorite,” Hugo quips, patting Yong on the head.

“Agreed,” Nuru replies. “You can do no wrong.”

Varian looks from Hugo to Nuru to Yong.

He shrugs.

Yeah, he can do no wrong.

#Tangled #Tangled the Series #Varian and the Seven Kingdoms #Varian #Varian Tangled #Hugo the Human #Nuru Tangled #Yong Tangled #Varigo #Fanfic

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mageicalwishes · 4 years

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A Smashing Summer - Chapter 1

Read on AO3: here

Summary: "I'm egging your house for a dare, but you're parent is a cop and now they're yelling at me, so I told them you were my ex and you wronged me, and now you're coming outside, so please just go along with this, I really don't want to go to jail" AU When Simon Snow agreed to egg some posho's house, he never thought he'd find himself here - The only thing standing between himself and a criminal charge, the word of a handsome stranger.

Chapter: 1/?

Words: 3,811

Based off of this post!

Simon

“Okay ... Dare,” I huff, my voice flat with boredom. “But I swear to God, if you guys make me eat any more vile shit, I’m leaving.”

“Alright, alright. Don’t have a hissy fit,” Josh mocks, holding his hands up in a false surrender. “We won’t make you eat anything else. Just lemme think.”

I wait, glancing between the two of them - Both of their faces knotted with concentration. If I’m honest, I’m not entirely sure why I agreed to play. I’ve always hated Truth or Dare. It’s juvenile, and boring, and it only ever leads to me embarrassing myself. But, with Penny and Agatha both on holiday, I don’t exactly have many other options. Unless I want to go downstairs and play Mario Kart with the younger kids - Which I definitely don’t (I always win. It gets pretty boring).

“Okay then,” Nathan says, a wicked grin breaking across his face. God. I’m going to regret picking dare, aren’t I? “I dare you to egg one of those posho houses on Church Lane.”

“Nathan. No,” I groan. “What if I get caught? I could be in serious trouble. Come on! The worst I made you do was steal a bloody biscuit. Egging somebody’s house is hardly the same!”

“Come on, Simon,” Josh drawls. “It’ll be a laugh. Don’t be a chicken.”

I roll my eyes, throwing my head back in frustration.

“Christ. Fine. But you two are coming with me. There is no way I’m going alone.”

“Sure thing. We’ll be right with you - Don’t you worry,” Josh assures, his voice dripping with mischief.

————————————————————————————

I regret every single decision that has led me here - Trudging down some posh twat’s drive, egg carton in hand, with my idiot friends hidden behind a tree a few metres back. I mean, what kind of imbecile agrees to egging a strangers house, just because of a stupid dare. Well, apparently me. But I am definitely regretting it now. This was an undoubtedly terrible idea.

My eyes scan the area nervously, checking for signs of life. There are no cars parked out front, and none of the windows are open (Even though it’s a stupidly hot day) - So, I figure I’m in the clear.

I come to a stop a few metres in front of the house’s porch. Although, thinking about it, it’s not really a house at all - It’s a bloody ginormous, gothic mansion. It’s incredibly intimidating. I mean, it’s got gargoyles and everything, for Christ’s sake! Looking at it up close, I can hardly believe that somebody actually lives here - It's probably some musty, old vampire or something. I swallow anxiously, trying to push that thought to the back of my mind. Not the vampire thing, obviously. I know vampires aren’t real - I’m not scared of that. But, I am scared of whoever does own the property. What are they gonna do when they realise that their precious mansion (Which probably cost them, like, a billion pounds) has been egged. I’d be livid.

Do houses like these have CCTV? Probably. Fuck. Is it illegal to egg someone’s house? Also probably. But it’s definitely illegal to trespass. Although, I don’t know if standing in somebody’s driveway really counts. But if it does, and they do have CCTV, then they’ve already caught me doing that. I really should’ve worn some sort of mask (Even if Josh and Nathan laughed at me) - But, it’s a little late for that now. So, Screw it. I’m already here. And, I’m probably already on tape. So, I may as well do what I came here to do. At least it’ll get Josh and Nathan off of my back.

Hesitantly, I open the carton and pick up an egg. Pulling my hand behind my head, I steal a quick glance backwards to ensure that I haven’t been ditched, and launch it straight into the heavy oak of the front door. A laugh bubbles up inside me, adrenaline surging within my chest. I’m probably a terrible person for finding something that is most-likely an actual, legitimate crime fun - But, the scandal of it all is providing me with an intoxicating rush.

Grinning, I load the final egg into my hand, hurling it towards the front door carelessly. A mere millisecond later, the door swings open, revealing a red-faced, white-haired man, all dressed up in a posh suit. Oh fuck. Powerless to stop the imminent disaster, I watch, horrified, as the egg smashes against his brow bone, splattering yolk across his face. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?” He yells, his voice booming.

Petrified, I let out a high-pitched, girlish squeal - Dropping the empty carton on to the floor. I’m completely frozen - My muscles seizing up uselessly, as I stand gawping at him. I whip my head around, watching as Josh and Nathan dash away, leaving me trapped, all alone. Desperately, I turn to run, be he claps a hand around my wrist - Pulling me back into place. Mega fuck. Panicked, I shake my arm wildly, desperately trying to loosen his vice-like grip.

“Do you know who I am?” he shouts, the veins in his neck bulging. Unable to find my voice, I shake my head. “I’m the Chief Constable!” Mega, mega fuck. Of course, I'd be stupid enough to pick a cop's house. I've really fucked it up this time. “And this,” he continues, gesturing vaguely behind him. “Is vandalism!”

I gulp, trying to shake myself free again, to no avail. He scowls, grabbing onto my shoulder, and tightening his grip further (My wrist will probably be bruised tomorrow, although that’s the least of my worries right now).

“I’m really, really sorry, Mister,” I whimper, my voice wavering pathetically. “This is a huge misunderstanding. I’ll fix it - I swear. Please just - Please don’t arrest me.”

His jawline tenses as he grits his teeth. “Pray tell me, how this is a 'misunderstanding',” he spits.

“Uhhh,” I stall, completely stumped. I definitely shouldn’t have said that. How the hell can egging somebody’s house be a misunderstanding? I dart my eyes around, desperately hoping to spot something that can help me out. And that's when I see him. A tall boy, roughly my own age, leaning against the door-frame nonchalantly, his arms crossed against his chest, and an amused smirk plastered on his face. “My ex lives here,” I sputter out. Stupid moron. Why the fuck would I say that? The boy raises an eyebrow, flashing me a quick toothy grin. “Really shitty breakup, yeah,” I ramble on. “Sent me loads of rude notes, wouldn’t give me back my stuff, kept threatening to spill my secrets. You know how it is.”

The man shakes his head, clearly taken aback. “What on earth are you blathering on about, boy? There is no girl your age living here.”

I chuckle sheepishly, looking down at my trainers, my face flushing with heat. Right, Yeah - I didn't really think that one through.

“It’s alright, Father,” A deep, velvety voice interjects. “He’s one of mine.”

I risk glancing upwards. The boy from the doorway is standing beside us now - His grey eyes assessing me coldly. I meet his gaze, furrowing my brow in question. What is he on about? His lips quirk upwards into a knowing smirk, as he runs a hand through his hair (It’s fairly long for a bloke, just brushing the tops of his shoulders. But, unlike mine, it looks really silky - So, I understand why he wouldn’t want to cut it).

“Basilton,” the man whispers, his tone warning. “I’m not in the mood for your games. Just look at what he did!”

“It’s no game, Father,” the boy (Basilton) replies, airily. “I left him a particularly scathing voicemail the other day. You know how I can be. I believe ... I likened him to a Neanderthal, actually - Which, as you can see, was clearly an astute judgement. It must've got him all riled up.”

“Either way - That does not excuse the vandalism of our home, Basilton.”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m not saying that it does. Just … Let me handle it. I shattered the poor little lout’s heart - He just wanted a little bit of revenge, that’s all. It's a harmless prank. There is really no need for all this drama. You’re being excessive, Father. Getting so riled up over a petty, little crime is unbecoming of a man of your status, you know.”

I can practically see the tension vibrating between them - The man’s face flushing a violent shade of red. I don’t think it’s embarrassment, though - I think it’s rage. And, to be fair to him, I think that’s understandable. Basilton is awfully cheeky - Adopting a daringly condescending tone. He sounded like he was chastising a toddler, not speaking to his Father.

For a moment, I think there is going to be a scrap, but, to my shock, it actually bloody works! Reluctantly, the man pulls his hands back, finally freeing me from his grasp. I puff out a relieved breath. Thank God for Basilton!

“I will deal with you later,” he hisses, jabbing a finger into the centre of the boy’s chest. “But if you insist on bringing people like that into our lives, then it’s only fair that you be the one to clean up their messes.”

“Perfectly fine with me, Father,” he deadpans.

And wiith that, he turns - Storming over to the door, and slamming it closed behind himself. Leaving me and my merciful stranger alone.

“Thank you so, so, so much,” I gasp out, turning to face him properly. “I am so sorry. My mates dared me to do it, and I’m a complete idiot, so I agreed. I don’t really know why. And I’m just - I’m just so sorry. I hope I didn’t ruin things between you and your Dad. And, I’ll clean it up, I swear! And … I’ll make it up to you. I mean - I don’t know how. But, I will.”

“Stop bumbling,” he says, gazing down at his nails, bored. “We can agree on the fact that you’re clearly a moron. But, don’t fret about ruining 'things' me and my Father - That was done long before you arrived. Just … Clean up the mess and we can forget that this ever happened.”

“Right. Okay,” I say, wearily. “But I mean, seriously thank you. For going along with my lie, I mean. Sorry if it - I mean like, sorry if it made you uncomfortable. Or you - You know, felt like you had to. Cause I mean … You didn’t have to”

“Don’t mention it - It’s perfectly fine. It didn’t make me uncomfortable, and I’m well aware that I didn’t have to do anything. I actually rather enjoyed the opportunity to rile my Father up - So, no need to apologise.”

“Right, well … Brilliant,” I say, smiling up at him. “You’re the best, Basilton.”

His face twists into a grimace. “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh shit, Sorry,” I mumble, embarrassed. “I thought that’s what your Dad said.”

“It is. I just … Don’t really like being called that,” he murmurs.

“Oh. Well. Um. What should I call you then?”

“Well you shouldn’t really call me anything. You’re the guy that just egged my house - Not my friend.”

“Yeah. I know that. But, I mean - Can’t you just say, anyway?”

“Fine,” he sighs, exasperated. “If you insist. Just call me Baz.”

“Baz,” I echo, the smile audible in my voice. “I like it. It suits you.”

“Hmmm,” he hums, noncommittally. “I’ll be sure to tell my Father you said so. I’m sure he will appreciate your approval.”

“I’m Simon Snow,” I say, ignoring his remark, and sticking my hand out towards him. “And, I promise, I don’t normally vandalise people’s houses. I’m good. I’ve never even got a detention, Honest. Well no, I mean, I got one in Year Seven - But it wasn’t my fault.”

Unimpressed, he glances down at my hand as if it were a personal affront. For a brief moment, I think he’s going to leave me hanging (Which would be totally mortifying. I’ve already made enough of a tit of myself, I don't need him to reject me as well), but then he reaches out, gingerly taking my hand in his, and giving it a curt shake.

“Charmed,” he deadpans. “Now that all the pleasantries are over, I really think you should get a move on with the whole cleaning thing. I won’t be able to hold Father off forever, you know.”

“Oh right, yeah. Course. I’ll get right on it. Uh … I don’t really have any … Cleaning stuff, though. Sorry. Do you have, like, a bucket or something?”

He glares down at me. “You’re a disaster,” he sighs, rubbing his hands against his temple exaggeratedly. “Vera probably has what you need. Let me go and ask.”

“Okay sure. Brilliant. Thanks,” I chirp. I have no idea who Vera is, but I don’t think Baz would like me asking, so I keep my mouth shut.

“Wait here,” he says, his voice threatening. “If you run away, I will be very angry. I know your name now, Simon Snow. If it comes to it, I can and will hunt you down. So stay put.”

��Aye Aye, Captain,” I tease. He tries to suppress it, but a small, half-smile breaks across his face. It only lasts a second, Baz quickly schooling his face back into a scowl, but it’s enough to calm the anxiety flurrying within my chest slightly. “I won’t move a muscle, promise.”

————————————————————————————

Baz

Snow looks nervous. He’s bouncing his leg anxiously, his face curled into an adorable little pout, and a hand tugging at his unkempt curls roughly.

“What’s wrong with you?” I tease, placing the bucket down besides his scuffed trainers.

“Baz!” He breathes. “I have to go. I’m so, so sorry.”

“What? No!” I protest, outraged. “You said you’d clean it up. That was the whole agreement. I go along with your little hair-brained scheme, and lower myself to fulfilling the role of your ex-boyfriend, and you clean up the mess you made!”

“I know, I know. And I will, I swear! Cross my heart,” he says, tracing an 'X' against his breast. “But, I have to be home by eight.”

“Eight? Really, Snow? How old are you?”

“Uh ... Seventeen. Why?”

“You’re seventeen years old, and your parents still won’t let you out after eight?” I ask, disbelieving.

“Uh yeah. Well, sort of.”

“Why? What happens if you miss your curfew? Do mummy and daddy not read you your bedtime story?” I goad, puffing my lips out into a faux, sympathetic pout. “I’m sorry, but you have to clean this mess up.”

“I know. But I just … I’m already late. And I seriously can’t be late. Look,” he says, digging around in his back pockets, and pulling out a crumpled receipt. “Uh … Do you have a pen?”

I roll my eyes, pulling out a fountain pen, and thrusting it towards him.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, flashing me a quick smile, and scribbling onto the paper. “Here. This is my number,” he says, holding the receipt out to me. “I’ll be back first thing tomorrow to clean it. I promise. If I don’t show up, you can just keep calling me till I do. Or … You’ve got my name, too - I’m sure that’s more than enough information to take a hit out on me.”

“Hmmm,” I hum, unimpressed, snatching the paper from his hand. “Be here eight A.M sharp. Capishe?”

“Uh yeah … Capishe?” He drones, clearly confused.

“Very well then. Run on back home. I’d hate for you to get into any trouble.”

“Okay. Yeah. Uh ... Cheers” he huffs. “You’re the best, Baz. I’ll make this up to you, I swear!”

“Whatever,” I chide, keeping my tone flat.

“Later then, Lover,” he calls.

“Don’t call me that,” I spit, aggressively.

“Okay. Okay,” He chuckles, warm laughter transforming his face - His eyes crinkling up slightly, as a small dimple pops besides his lips. “Later, Ex-Lover, then. That better?”

“I think you know that it’s not,” I groan, shaking my head. “Just get out of here. Before I change my mind!”

With a beaming grin, he turns, jogging down the driveway and back out onto the street - Leaving me alone. I glance down at the receipt - His number scratched onto the paper in barely intelligible handwriting, and a small, crude smiley face drawn next to it. Bloody nightmare. Despite myself, I chuckle lightly at the absurdity of it all. Simon Snow … What the hell have I gotten myself into?

————————————————————————————

This Summer has ticked by unbearably slowly. At first it was fun - A welcome change from the monotony of term time. But the novelty quickly wore off. Every day is the same - I wake up, I read, I play FIFA with Dev, I study, I eat, and I play with Mordelia. That’s it. Same old, same old. But today - Today was far from usual. As pathetic as it may be, it was probably the most fun I’ve had in weeks.

Which is why, I find myself here - Sat on the end of my bed, phone in hand, deliberating with myself over whether or not to text him. My calamitous little criminal.

I mean, he did give me his number. I doubt he'd be surprised to hear from me. I could message him under the guise of confirming that he hadn't given me a fake one. That would be believable … Surely? I inhale deeply, regaining my composure. It’s just a silly, inconsequential text - Nothing to get worked up about. If he doesn’t answer - So what? It’ll make no difference to my life.

With my mind made up, I hammer out my message quickly - Hitting send before I have the opportunity to change my mind.

ME (21:42): Committed any crimes since we last spoke?

I stare down at the screen, anxious. This is definitely weird. Why did I think this was a good idea? What sort of person decides to have a friendly chat with the guy that egged their house, for Christ’s sake? Father would be bitterly disappointed, if he knew.

Just as I’m starting to spiral, my phone screen flashes up with a reply. And then another. And then another. And then another. It’s him - It has to be him. Nobody I else know texts like such a lunatic (I'd have blocked their number ages ago if they did).

SS (21:43): Nah. Not yet.

SS (21:43): Maybe l8r.

SS (21:43): And again … Sorry bout that.

SS (21:43): And thnx for covering for me. That was really nice of you :)

I grin, relieved.

ME (21:45): Yes, well. While I appreciate your gratitude, if you don’t show up tomorrow there will be hell to pay.

ME (21:45): And do you really have to type like that?

SS (21:46): Aha yep :D That’s how everyone texts. Not my fault.

SS (21:46): And I know. I know.

SS (21:46): Trust me. I’ll be there.

SS (21:46): You can count on me :)

ME (21:47): Whatever you say, Snow.

SS (21:47): Yeh :)

ME (21:51): I have a question for you.

SS (21:52): Oh yeh, really? Shoot.

ME (21:53): I was having a little look at the receipt you gave me, and I was just wondering why on earth ONE PERSON would need to purchase SEVEN packets of scones, all in one go? Is one of your friends getting out of juvie, or something? Having a little party?

SS (21:54): Oh nah lol.

SS (21:54): Those are for me.

SS (21:54): Whenever I get given my pocket money I always go and get a few packs.

SS (21:54): They’re delicious. Trust.

SS (21:54): I’ll bring you one tomorrow :)

ME (21:55): Right, I see. Fair enough, I suppose.

SS (21:55): Aha yeh :)

I pause, unsure of how to reply. I guess, I could ask him what he’s doing - Although, that would probably be a little strange. It’s almost certainly best to just leave it. I’ll see him tomorrow, anyway - I’d rather not embarrass myself before then.

But, just as I’m about to put my phone down, it buzzes again.

SS (22:01): What’s ur full name?

I furrow my brow in confusion.

ME (22:03): Why?

SS (22:03): Cause I wanna add you as a contact.

SS (22:03): And my phone wants a surname.

SS (22:04): And also I’m just curious.

SS (22:04): Based on “Basilton” it’s probs well posh!

SS (22:04): I bet your name is double-barreled. You seem like a double-barreled kinda guy.

SS (22:05): Come onnnnnnnn Baz. Spill.

SS (22:05): I wanna knowwwww. Plz.

SS (22:06): You know mine. It's only fair!

SS (22:07): Don’t ignore meeeeeeeeee. Plzzzzz.

ME (22:09): You’re an imbecile.

SS (22:09): Ahaha. Whatever you say.

SS (22:09): Seriously, tho. What’s your name?

ME (22:10): Will telling you shut you up?

SS (22:10): Oh yeh. For sure.

SS (22:11): For a bit anyways ;)

ME (22:12): Fine.

ME (22:12): My full name is Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. Happy now?

SS (22:13): HOLY SHIT!

SS (22:13): Yep! I’m very happy now!

SS (22:13): I knew it would be posh.

SS (22:13): Haha that’s wicked.

SS (22:14): Tyrannus. Really? Like the dinosaur?

SS (22:14): I’ve never even HEARD of that!

ME (22:14): No, Snow. Not like the dinosaur. My parents aren’t morons.

SS (22:15): Oh lol. Fairs.

SS (22:15): Speaking of your parents, your dad is well scary! I thought I was gonna have a heart attack earlier.

ME (22:17): I’m aware. I grew up with him.

ME (22:17): Anyway, I thought you said if I told you, you’d shut up for a bit. You don’t appear to have shut up at all.

SS (22:18): Oh yeh lol. Sorry.

SS (22:18): I just got excited.

SS (22:18): Your name is wicked tho! Seriously.

ME (22:18): Whatever you say.

SS (22:19): Aha yeh.

SS (22:19): Anyways … Imma head off to bed now. No more talking from me!

SS (22:19): Lucky you!

SS (22:19): Early start tomorrow!

SS (22:19): Cleaning some posho’s house.

SS (22:19): Lol.

SS (22:20): G’night Baz.

SS (22:20): See you tomorrow :)

ME (22:20): Good night, Snow. See you then. Don’t be late!

SS (22:21): Wouldn’t dream of it ;)

With that, I shift - Putting my phone on to charge, and laying myself down onto the bed. Helplessly charmed, I find myself smiling up towards the velvet canopy of my bed goofily (Despite my best efforts to suppress it).

Tomorrow is going to be a good day.

#carry on #wayward son #snowbaz #snowbaz fic #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch

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sharyrazade · 5 years

Text

Day -320

I’m gonna do something a little different here; part writing practice, part shameless self-promotion, and part gauging interest in future projects I’m playing with, I’m gonna start posting previews- excerpts from projects of mine.

While technically a flashback in-story, here, we’ve got Makoto and Yuuki in marriage counseling in the Children of Men!verse; so you know how big a dumpster fire that relationship was.

Tapping his fingers against his tablet nervously, Kentaro Masamura, while never a religious man in the slightest, prayed silently for one half of the estranged couple to at least begin to speak. Even if their first instinct was to explode on each other- he’d seen that with more than his share of couples in his line of work and he was trained to defuse said situations. But this tension- this unspoken enmity between in the room was enough to (figuratively) choke an elephant.

Fuck it, I can’t take this anymore. “So, first things first.” Masamura began, his tone unnaturally cordial. “When did you first begin to notice problems in your marriage? Mrs. Mishima, why don’t we begin with you?”

“Ms. Niijima.” Makoto corrected sternly, only glancing at her estranged husband through the corner of her eye. “And I couldn’t tell you; probably the day after the wedding.”

Yuuki scoffed in frustration, rolling his eyes. “Oh, yeah, why don’t we ask Makoto?” he began frustratedly. “After all, she knows EVERYTHING. Something she just LOVES making you aware of.”

Makoto grasped the couch’s armrest in irritation. “Well, Mister Tech Billionaire, I don’t see how it’s any different than those fancy cars you insist on driving or that penthouse you insisted on.”

At this, Yuuki’s expression was more angered than annoyed. “Only because you wouldn’t stop going on about how much you loved it!”

“I WAS TRYING TO BE SUPPORTIVE!”

The therapist rubbed his temples in exasperation. “I hear a lot of talking past one another, but no real communicating.” remarked Kentaro upon the obvious. “Mr. Mishima- since your wife already went, why don’t we get your thoughts on when the problems started?”

Somewhat cooled off, Yuuki exhaled in exasperation. “I’m going to say...about a couple of months in?” he said tentatively. “After the ‘honeymoon phase,’ appropriately enough. I guess I noticed Makoto putting in even more hours at work than usual- kinda like she was avoiding me.”

The brunette scoffed dismissively. “Please!” she remarked, a noticeable hint of defensive cruelty in her tone. “You knew my job wasn’t exactly a part-time thing when I started. If you were going to be such a baby about it, maybe you shouldn’t have married me.”

“Oh, THAT’S the understatement of my life!” Yuuki complained. “You know mom tried to warn me about you? I SHOULD have listened to her!”

“So even when she’s not here, you’re such a mama’s boy, you bring in your passive-aggressive cunt of a mother to fight your battles?”

“How fucking DARE you talk about her like that?! And that’s rich coming from the woman who spent the past ten years giving her ‘best friend’ the cold-bitch routine on a regular basis!”

Once again sensing an impasse (or rather an impeding cliff), Kentaro gave a series of exaggerated coughs to interrupt the couple. “This is getting us nowhere.” he said, again remarking on the obvious. “I’m just going to be blunt about this question- how are things between you two- you know, in the bedroom?”

Immediately, the therapist regretted breaching the topic; the cold, hostile glares shared by both husband and wife told him he’d just skipped gleefully into a goddamned minefield. “Okaayyyy...when did you first start having issues there?”

“The wedding night.” Makoto and Yuki said in reflexive unison.

The therapist was visibly taken aback by said candor. “Wow, okay. So what caused such a rocky start to your sex life?”

Yuuki shrugged. “Ah, you know, the usual- it was always ‘I’m too tired,’ ‘I have a headache,’ or ‘maybe on the weekend.’ Basically, she’s a frigid, unavailable bitch.”

Makoto crossed her arms across her chest. “Maybe if you could stop being a thirsty little twerp for ten minutes, you could learn to take a hint. I actually am tired most of the time- it’s not JUST because you’re about as sexually appealing as that plant over there.”

Yuuki, while suspecting it on some level for some time now, wore an expression of genuine hurt at having Makoto’s true feelings confirmed by the woman herself. Kentaro, on the other hand, was justifiably perplexed. “Wait,” he began, furrowing his brow. “you NEVER discussed this kind of thing with each other?”

Both halves of the quarreling couple gave each other an equally-perplexed look before responding in kind once again. “No, never.” they both confirmed.

Kentaro scribbling away at his notes and becoming increasingly pessimistic as he did so, Makoto was the next to speak. “Besides, it’s not like you were suffering SO much.” she said carelessly. “We BOTH know you got plenty from those golddigging sluts all over you.”

Genuinely wounded and offended by this accusation, by this point, Yuuki was now more angry than anything. “Never, not once!” he exclaimed.

“Really? You never cheated once?”

“No! And that’s REAL fucking rich coming from you- remember when we went to Patong back in the summer?! The first actual orgasm you had in this marriage, you called me Akira, for fuck’s sake! And that’s not even getting into why we’re here in the first place!”

“It was a slip of the tongue and you KNOW it, you tiny little man!”

As a marriage counselor, Kentaro was privy to quite a bit about the lives of his clients, but it was still at their own discretion- understandably, he was feeling quite lost now that other names were being dropped. “Wait, who’s Akira, again?” he inquired.

Yuuki was still quite offended by his wife’s casual assertions of his infidelity- as though it were a given. Particularly hypocritical given the situation with a certain lady friend of hers, he fumed. For all those romantic, chivalrous-sounding vows they shared, Yuuki could feel his blood boiling- after all the pain and insecurities he’d shared with his wife, only to have her blurt them back in an effort to consciously belittle him- No, he wanted to hurt this woman sitting next to him.

“A mutual friend of ours who Makoto spent the past fifteen years carrying a torch for.” he informed smugly. “Got involved with another mutual friend of ours about as long ago and married her- Makoto’s been a condescending, passive-aggressive bitch to her ‘best friend’ ever since.”

Her expression momentarily betraying her wound at this divulging of some of her dirtiest social laundry, Makoto quickly reverted to a couple of her tried-and-true responses, among them her rather aloof default expression.

“Well, it can’t be THAT great a marriage.” she remarked snidely, wanting to change the subject but feel some self-righteousness from her venting. “You know he- they bring other women into their bedroom sometimes, right? Doesn’t sound a man too happy in his marriage if you ask me.”

Yuuki scowled, not having nearly the emotional skin as his wife did in this game. “What makes you so sure it’s for him?” he barbed, glowering at Makoto. “She was pretty upfront about being bisexual with him- kinda important information to have going in, you think?”

“Wait, hold on-” interrupted Kentaro, holding a hand up. “We’re discussing YOUR marriage right now- not theirs.”

At this statement, Makoto lost her composure, shooting upright and looming over her husband angrily. “Oh, and here we go!” she complained. “Yes, I fucked my best girlfriend and left you for her! Yes, I admit it! And you know something, I’d do it again! And again! And again! Do you know why? Because you know something about Haru? She is kind, she’s loyal, she’s humble, she’s caring- all for the sake of it! Everything you’re not! And by the way, she’s more of a man and lover than you could EVER be!”

“If I’m so pathetic and disgusting to you,” Yuuki raged. “why did you even bother to show up today?!”

“I don’t know! I’ve made so many mistakes with you, that would just be the latest!”

“Then why don’t you just get the hell out?!”

“MAYBE I WILL!”

“GOOD! Go on back to your poor little rich girl and your snotty, pretentious cafes, and your weekends in Paris and- whatever it is the fuck you two do to each other every night!”

Even before Makoto stormed from the office, slamming the door behind her, as a therapist and professional in general, it was pretty clear to Kentaro Masamura that he’d lost control of the situation completely the second their friend Akira came up- it had been undeniable once the word “bisexual” entered into the conversation.

Having cooled down somewhat, Yuuki sighed tiredly. “Sorry about that, doc.” he said apologetically. “What do I owe you for all the sessions- I kinda think this was a wash.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Kentaro replied.

“Nah, I insist- I subjected you to the oil fire that is my marriage, I’m going to compensate you for it.”

Hmm, an “oil fire.” That was a pretty good way of describing that utter disaster, the therapist conceded to himself. Kentaro Masamura did this job because he genuinely did believe in trying to preserve relationships when possible. Trying to preserve this one however, was not so much rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic- it was more attempting to bail out the ship with a drinking glass- from the bottom of the Atlantic.

#catherine atlus #persona series #persona 5 #yuuki mishima #makoto niijima #post-canon #children of men!verse #my writing #preview

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