#and them all starting off innocent and then growing into people who perpetuate both power and harm WOOOF

[tricktster]

the twilight series suddenly makes 100% more sense if you read them under a specific premise that, i contend, is heavily supported by the text:

Much like Amy’s diary in Gone Girl, the books in the Twilight Saga are verbatim reproductions of in-universe diary entries carefully and deliberately created and curated by badass unreliable narrator Bella Swan as a means to achieve immortality.

Prerequisite assumptions:

1) Bella actively and persistently wants to become a vampire, both diagetically and (I contend) non-diagetically. The average vampire novel format often fails to capture realistic human behavior in one highly specific area: the protagonists are frequently mortals who grapple with the choice of whether to become a vampire. This is stupid, because being a vampire would obviously be dope as hell; particularly in the Twilight Universe, where vampires are not required to take a human life to survive, and indeed, have the capacity to live full and rewarding lives while integrated* into the human community.

(*integrated-ish; see Assumption 6)

2. There are too many coincidences for Bella to have encountered the Cullens by sheer chance, only to be the ONE person that Edward can’t live without (due largely to the novelty factor of not being able to read her ding-dang thoughts.)

3. Diagetically, the Volturi don’t even know Bella’s psyonic gifts until New Moon, but we also know that the Volturi scour the globe for recruits to enlist into the protection of their governing body.

4. Nobody wants to be a voiceless cog in a bureaucracy.

5. Nobody, and especially nobody in high school, wants to be a high school student forever.

6. Vampires in twilight are, as a group, cartoonishly terrible at disguising their true nature.

7. Forks is a backwater town approximately 3.5 hours away from the biotech hub of Seattle.

7. George W. Bush and Dick Cheney can eat my farts and they deserve to be preserved in this snapshot of an innocent author’s mind slowly unraveling.

Proposed timeline:

In 1993, there is a key system meltdown at a improvised biohacking startup in Seattle, rendering all innovative genetic modification experiments into a puddle of brown sludge that nobody can figure out how to dispose of per Federal regs, since they don’t even know what it is.

The broke founder of the startup, who for the purposes of this timeline I will call Jeff Bezos because that’s who it was, eventually grows tired of all the discussion about what to do, and just pops it in a barrel, drives a few hours out of town, and dumps it in a pond.

Bella Swan, a small child, is hanging out at a park with her family friend Jacob Black (and a ton of his friends) when they all decide to wade in a slightly murky pond. Thereafter, they are transformed.

Bella grows up as a normal, highly powerful mutant with a +20 to deception checks and wisdom saves. She lives in Arizona, but up until 2002, summers in Forks. While in Forks, she picks up on the local lore about a family of vampires who don’t eat people.

Because Forks (population: 17 + Charlie’s mustache) is boring, Bella bones up on the only interesting thing about it, i.e. Vampire Hometown baybeeeee.

In 2000, George W. Bush gets elected president, and his evangelical politics and general bumbling ineptitude informs Bella’s opinions on authoritative governmental entities.

In 2001, the Cullens make their intention to move back to Forks known, but they take a while because they need to pack all their stupid graduation hats and volvos, etc.

Later in 2001, a psychic Volturi scout rolls through Forks to ensure that nobody within living memory recalls the Cullens, and notices an anomaly in the psychic field.

The scout goes to confront Bella about joining the Volturi, and Bella immediately clocks him as a vampire, because vampires in the Twilight Universe fucking suck at looking/acting human. This leaves the scout in a bind: she’s too valuable to kill, but she’s a pre-teen, and therefore too young to be transformed per Volturi authority.

The scout warns her he’ll have to kill her if she discusses the existence of vampires with any human. He then tells her he’ll be back in five years, and begins to sweet talk her on how good life will be when she’s a vampire, beautiful, immortal, powerful, etc. Bella asks if she has to kill, and dude says “nah, actually there’s a bunch of vegetarian vampires who are moving back here soon. Fucking nerds, but otherwise they’re doing well.” Bella is all about becoming a vampire, because Bella is a rational actor.

Bella moves to Arizona, and as the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq are unjustifiedly initiated, she recognizes that while she DOES want to be a vampire, she does NOT want to be a foot soldier in any war that she can’t support. She needs a plan.

In 2004, Bella is watching her step-dad’s minor league baseball game when it occurs to her. On her own, she’s a target for the Volturi, but if she had some people to watch her back, she might be okay. Of course, nobody fucks with the Volturi on behalf of some rando human. She’ll need to con her way into a coven who’ll have her back and also give her that +10 to constitution via vampiric transformation, which she desperately wants because she’s a rational actor. And where are the non-volturi vampires that might have her back? Fucking Forks.

Bella moves to Forks in 2004, and upon seeing the Cullens, she immediately clocks them as vampires even though they left their “we’re all vampires” booty shorts at home, because, as previously discussed, vampires in the Twilight Universe fucking suck at looking/acting human.

Bella notes that all the vampires but one are paired off in heterosexual bliss, and takes note of the straggler as a potential vehicle to vampyrdom.

Bella figures out that Eddie can read everyone’s mind but hers, because Edward Cullen fucking sucks at looking/acting like a human who can’t read minds. Bella further observes that Eddie has a huge undead boner for her.

She’s found her mark. Now she just needs to convince him that she’s better off as part of the coven than on her own. Problem: Eddie’s a self-pitying insufferably guilt-striken perpetual adolescent who keeps himself busy by feeling sorry for himself because he’s a vampire, angst angst angst etc etc. Also, I think he’s Catholic, so add some more guilt in. She’ll have to win him over by convincing him that they’re destined to be soulmates.

What does a vampire used to having complete insight into everyone’s mind but his crush’s want? A method to know what she really thinks of him. Bella begins writing a “diary” knowing that there’s no way in hell Eddie won’t sneak in and read it. So she Gone Girls it, and begins to lay a trap to lure him in. That first diary? Twilight.

This was just in the movie but a stoner chases her around with a worm on a stick. Nothing to do with this theory, I just like that part of the movie. Where’s my spinoff about that guy?

Eddie won’t give Bella what she wants (eternal life) by the end of book 1, even though she asks him to EXTREMELY POLITELY. Time to hit the diary with some more promises of undying love.

Bella reconnects with her old friend Jacob and the rest of the Mutated By Jeff Bezos Boys. Alas, they cannot turn her into a physically powerful sexy immortal with a bite, so she’s still stuck with plan A) win over a whole family of vampires with big Mormon energy. It’s the long con.

Edward’s angst abruptly takes a swing towards terminal. He’s absolutely your classic sadboy, perhaps because Bella now has one (1) friend that he knows about.

When Eddie begins to drift away on account of Angst, Bella conjurs up a secondary love interest who, coincidentally, is ALSO a sexy supernatural entity, and is much less coincidentally just Jacob.

We should establish here that Edward is like a 107 year old white dude and so even though Diary!Bella pretends not to see it, Metatextual Frame Story!Bella knows that dude is super racist.

Jacob Black is three things: 1. Like Bella, a mutant (although one with shapeshifting abilities), 2.one of Bella’s oldest and most trusted confidants, and 3. down to clown on an elderly teenage vampire who keeps stereotyping him. Sure, says Jacob, I’ll take the form of a werewolf. He seriously thinks we’re all just beastmen, huh? Hey look at me now, I’m Regis Philbin because this is 2005 and Who Wants to be a Millionaire is still sort of relevant. Sick.

Edward does not like that Bella has one (1) other friend. Bella and Jacob plot to use this to their advantage and lure Edward back on the wings of jealousy.

Eddie gets himself into trouble on account of Angst and poor communication, so Bella has to go rescue him from himself/the Volturi.

Aro finally meets her and gets to test her powers, which impress him. Now she’s back on the fucking radar.

I forget everything that happens in Eclipse, so i have chosen to omit that part.

Eventually she extracts a quid pro quo from Eddie; i’ll marry you if you turn me into a dracula.

We don’t really call ourselves that, Wet Blanket Cullen replies, entirely earnestly.

Bella gets married at 18 in 2006, and Eddie starts to backtrack his promise about changing her. This won’t stand.

Well, look, he’s an elderly guilty catholic/mormon teen who probably still uses super racist terms, but she’s stuck on honeymoon island, he has certain angles that work for him, and seriously what are they gonna do but fuck? Bella’s alternative is listening to her “husband” drone on about his interests, which are almost certainly Car, How Do I Post a Minion Picture on Facebook, and Licorice Used To Be a Lot Cheaper in the Good Old Days.

Whoops a fetus.

Bella recognizes that she’s GOT to have this baby: time’s running out, and Bella knows that at least two of the Vamps in her coven will cut ties if she terminates or otherwise fails to carry this baby to term because of the conservative religious subtext. She’s going to have to stick it out for 9 months, even though it’s a risky call.

Bella gets what she wants after giving birth. “My time as a human is over, but I've never felt more alive. I was born to be a vampire.” That’s a direct quote. Except now she’s got a (pretty cute and easy) baby that she desperately wants to protect from Turning Into A Vaguely Religious Cullen Dressed Head To Toe In Cream Colored Wool.

Bella decides to fake her own death and escape with the kid and Jake so they can form i guess a detective agency. Bella will get “killed” by the Volturi, move to Sydney, and open up shop, and Jake will take the kid after her a few months later.

They’re gonna need a reason why Jake gets the kid though, and there’s only one reason to do anything amongst the Cullens: a heterosexual love interest with a super problematic age gap.

Jesus, Jake sighs, is Eddie really going to believe I’m in romantic love with your actual infant? Does he really think that little of me?

Yup.

Bella tries to draw the Volturi’s attention.

Works too well.

The Cullens call up all their vague acquaintances, who are at least kind of fun. Particularly that one dude who keeps getting angry about British conduct during the American Revolution.

Well, fuck, now the Volturi are bringing an army to fight their ragtag army of Vampires Who Are Cool And Interesting Enough That We Can Safely Presume They Are All Definitely Gay. Bella can’t let those guys die, they’re the first actually compelling vampires she’s ever talked to.

Bella saves the day because she’s OP.

All the Cool Vamps start packing up to leave and Bellz almost goes with them, but the Cullens would just keep sending missionaries after her if they knew.

Bella finishes her fourth journal with the vague warning that the Volturi are still out there somewhere and they miiiight just try and get her.

Two days later, she stages a scuffle and gets the fork out of Fucks. Her journals are the only clue.

Sirius Black and baby nessie follow once edward has stopped sobbing into his cream colored sweater and moved on to Extended Power Pouting.

Bella recruits her own army of fledglings.

Bella stages a coup against the Volturi and succeeds.

Bella sits on the iron throne with a hot lady vampire on each knee and they all kiss and stuff.

Nessie I guess forms a post punk band?

Edward dies from aspiration of a brussel sprout that he ate because he just wanted to feel something.

Charlie and Billy get married.

Charlie’s mustache develops a cult instagram following, providing them with a modest retirement income.

Jacob shapeshifts into Bill Murray and is always crashing weddings.

Bella’s stepdad is off in the B plot this whole time winning the world series with the help of a kooky angel.

There. Fixed. My soul is at rest.

[jackoshadows]

Sometimes I think ASoIaF/GoT fandom is too hard on J*nsa shippers, like let them ship their ship if it makes them happy, but then I read shit about how Jon/Arya is "bad" incest because they look alike but Jon/Sansa is "good" incest since they look like Ned/Cat, and then I'm like "nah, they deserve to be the laughingstock of the fandom."

IMO, the fandom only has an issue with the 'Jonsa is canon' shippers who spend their time mutating Jon, Dany, Arya and others into unrecognizable side characters in a story called a Song of Sansa and Sansa.

Why do I dislike Jonsa? Because of the shippers.

The way Jonsa is shipped makes it at it’s core an inherently misogynistic and classist ship that undermines Jon Snow as a character and his canon relationships in the books and the TV show IMO. Dany and Arya get a lot of sexist hate because of this ship. Especially Dany. Jonsa stans turned against the character specifically after Jonerys happened on the show.

The ‘Jonsa is canon’ folks posit that:

Jon’s disdain for girls like Sansa is actually about Jon feeling that he is not worthy of beautiful, perfect Sansa because of his bastardy. He therefore settles for girls similar to Arya, who are more to his level - classism and sexism in one concise package! Jon’s issues concerning his bastardy will be resolved once trueborn, beautiful Sansa deigns to love him.

Jon is wrong to like girls like Arya and does not know his own mind. He will therefore grow as a character and acknowledge that his type has always been Sansa.

Jon has actually referred to Arya as being horse-faced and ugly and told Arya that it is right and correct to live within patriarchal rules!

Jon is also very shallow - he develops a romantic crush on his 11 year old sibling who mocked and bullied Arya for being ugly. Who cares if Arya went crying to him afraid that she too was a bastard because of her looks, 11 year old Sansa’s beauty is too hard to resist!

Arya cannot have a romance arc, is not pretty, will not marry or have children. Jon will be repulsed by her when they meet again. Jon will grow to dislike Arya, Val, Dany etc. for their masculine characteristics and for killing people. Instead he will find Sansa’s feminine courage more appealing and fall in love with her beauty, purity, innocence, singing, dancing, lady like ways.

Slut-shaming. Dany has many partners unlike pure, innocent Sansa. (They have rather puritanical opinions on sex and morality and project these notions onto Sansa. I don't know if it's because of their obsession with fairy tales and disney princesses)

Jon will turn into a Littlefinger like character who sexually manipulates Daenerys - a rape victim - in order to help his true love Sansa get the North. This is okay because Dany deserves it and it’s about helping Sansa.

Dany and Jon's child will be born deformed, monstrous. Dany will turn mad because of genes. Jon will reject her because she’s barren. The Starks are superior to everyone.

Actual defense of slavery and classism. Dany is wrong to free the slaves in Meereen, Arya is wrong to step in to help Mycah, the classism and feudal structures in Westeros is fine as long as the Starks/Sansa are the ones perpetuating it.

Jon is oversensitive and whiny about Catelyn Stark and she was right to abuse him because bastards are a threat to her children.

Jaime Lannister will become Hand of the King, for Queen Sansa and King Jon, while evil Tyrion will die.

The hard power of characters like Daenerys and the violence of characters like Arya is evil and wrong while the violence of male characters is righteous and justified. Jon, who regularly kills people, will be put off by Arya and Dany killing people.

Daenerys and Arya should be repudiated because they have masculine characteristics, masculine courage, a masculine narrative arc and people only enjoy their story because they stand in for male characters.

‘People like Dany more than Sansa because Emilia Clarke showed her tits’ - actual words written by a popular Jonsa shipper.

The scorned women trope. This is a core premise of many of their theories like political Jon and fAegon being real. Dany will be rejected by men, go mad and burn down KL.

There is only one real female character in the story - that’s Sansa. And the only reason - the ONLY REASON, people criticize or dislike the character is because of their internalized misogyny against the only real female character in the books. Only Sansa gets the fairy tale romance because she’s a real woman.

Being written as a divisive, xenophobic, isolationist, backstabbing traitor on the show is good writing that portrays Sansa as a good leader.

And so on and so forth. I am pretty sure I have only covered like half of their nonsense.

Ultimately the problem for Jonsa is that it's nonexistent in the books and both characters had an antagonistic relationship on the show. There's nothing there. So the 'Jonsa is canon' folks take away from Arya, the Jon-Arya relationship, erase Arya from her story and relationships and demonize Dany to make Jonsa happen.

Jonerys and Jonrya shippers don't have that problem. Both ships have material from the books and show and even extras like GRRM's leaked original outline to make the case for these ships. Jon, Dany and Arya are central characters in the series.

Jonerys and Jonrya shippers are not writing essays taking away from Jon and Sansa's relationship - because that relationship is nonexistent. There's nothing to take away from! Other shippers don't have to make up things out of thin air or hate on Sansa for having a relationship with Jon. She doesn’t have one!

There's actual little clues in the books that could point to either Jonerys and Jonarya instead of shippers being excited that Jon's book chapter followed Sansa’s or snow fell on her face lol.

Jonsas literally erase Arya from her story in the books and her relationship with Jon to insert Sansa in there. Jonrya shippers don’t need to do that - Arya has a central story in the North and Jon Snow literally died for her in the last book!

And that's why all these anti posts from people like Daensa shippers grouping Jonerys/Jonrya together with a crackship like Jonsa makes no sense. If anything, considering how these shippers have now started becoming obnoxious as well with their 'Oh look at us, we are so edgy and superior!' shit, Jonsa will fit right in with them.

#asks #anti Jonsa

[britishassistant]

The Villainous Paranoiac Did Not Ask to be a Senpai

It’s been maybe two weeks since you woke up with a blade to your throat in a strange, ninja-and-pirate themed afterlife, and then woke up in a maximum security prison the next day. On the third day, thankfully, you woke up again in your bed in Ramshackle dorm with Grim snoring beside you.

There was even a surplus of food in the fridge and pantry, and some recipes for it in one of your notebooks, which you appreciated.

After three days, you let your guard down enough to assume you weren’t going to travel to anywhere else in your sleep and began to work on your essay for Professor Trein again.

On the seventh day, however, you woke up to an attempting smothering that was only foiled by Grim screaming and a second preteen tackling your would-be murderer off of you.

You then had to separate the two brown-haired children who were fighting on your bedroom floor and looking more and more like they would actually kill each other with every blow.

You got a broken nose for your trouble.

That was how you met the two brats who you temporarily swapped places with, and who are currently living in your dorm with you as “hopeful potential students” as the birdbrain headmaster put it.

It’s clearly just a clever way for the dumb bird to avoid taking direct responsibility for the lives of under sixteen years olds. If they die from a magic mishap or getting squashed by an overblot, he can pin the blame on your incompetence instead of the school’s.

Joy.

Epel’s still sulking about you “swiping his kohai” from him. Vil-senpai acts as if he doesn’t care, but the number of times he’s dropped by to complain about your standards of beauty care begs to differ.

Honestly, they and Pomefiore can have Nana if they want him so badly... is what you would say if Crowley weren’t increasing your funding per temporary occupant. You were quite pleased with negotiating that, as previously the birdbrain acted like he expected you to somehow feed two growing children plus yourself and Grim on just your paltry allowance.

Grim and the ghosts would be glad to see the British boy who introduced himself to you as “Johnny-Powers-but-call-me-Nana” gone in spite of the added money. They’ve made sure to tell you so, multiple times.

Even without hearing about how well he played ghost exterminator first time he was here, you can kind of understand what they’re talking about. That kid can go from homicidal to ingratiating so fast it feels like you’ll get whiplash, and he’s disturbingly quick to bring up maiming as a solution to your problems. You attribute this to him being an incarcerated thirteen-year-old gang leader in addition to a model Pomefiore student and resolve to keep him as far away from Octavinelle as humanly possible.

He and Leech-senpai would either give each other ideas, or he’d overthrow Ashengrotto-senpai and have him served as calamari by the end of the week.

You quite like Ashengrotto-senpai where he is, whole and healthy, so you stay vigilant.

At least he can speak Japanese well enough despite being a foreigner, and does his share of the chores around the dorm without complaining. You’ve even caught him doing Grim’s share with no fuss, because of the sudden increase in quality of the finished job. He responds well to praise and is very bribable with chocolate, which makes your life a lot easier in many circumstances.

Now if you can just find him a good child psychologist for all the issues he clearly has, Nana might make a passable dorm-mate.

You’d keep Mayu in a heartbeat though, even without the added benefit of payment.

Ketsugi Mayu’s an absolute sweetheart, if a bit on the... straightforward side, to put it nicely. She’s an amazing cook, able to create feasts out of the barest essentials and haggle with Sam to get groceries for a much lower price that you’re able to. You’re not sure if you’ve ever eaten better. If not for how clearly homesick she is and the fact that her mother terrifies you, you’d offer to let her stay here forever.

Of course that’s not to say the kid doesn’t have some quirks. She keeps making odd remarks like, “it feels weird to be watched only some of the time” and “oh right, you have lawyers here” that make you very concerned about the ninja afterlife she was in. And a bit about the place you’re currently living in.

She’s also obsessed with this one comic about pirates to the point where she puts Shroud-senpai’s fixations to shame, claiming she wants to become a pirate chef when she grows up and praying to the main characters. This has given her one of the weirdest moral compasses you’ve ever seen, which treats theft as an excusable offense but wasting food as a crime that she needs to go and beat up people for.

This would be less of a problem if the child wasn’t strong enough to break bones.

You’ve had to break up more fights for her than you have for Nana honestly, just because she’d spotted someone throwing something away half-eaten in the cafeteria and quietly made a beeline for them before you wised up to her shenanigans.

Nana was no help on that front because he immediately tried to join in, only to play innocent bystander the moment the teachers and dorm leaders came.

The fact that her mindset has a lot in common with Deuce’s and Kalim’s is just the cherry on top of the problem sundae. Ace and several other students have already tried to con her into giving them free food, because apparently this child thinks it is her gods-given mission to feed the world’s hungry.

Which is noble and all, unless you don’t have a lot of food that you can afford to share around in the first place. Especially not to greedy freeloaders who call themselves your friends and claim to want to test Mayu’s gullibility “for her own good”. Grim’s perpetually rumbling stomach and puppy-eyes have been some of your best allies in thwarting these attempts.

At least your guests get along with each other after their rocky start.

After a few days of him refusing to eat anything on his plate unless Mayu or you had eaten a bit of it first, the twelve-year-old roped Nana into helping out in the kitchen to try and get him to be less picky. Amazingly, it worked, and you usually seize the opportunity work on your homework while they’re distracted preparing meals.

From there, they became friends pretty quickly, though you think that has more to do with Mayu being a reliable source of chocolate than anything else.

Nana flips between nervous child and overprotective gang leader on a dime for her, which isn’t helpful when you’re trying to stop any more Cafeteria Incidents. Mayu at least has the maturity to help you talk Nana down from some of his more extreme responses to problem-solving and keeps him entertained by telling him more of that pirate story she’s always going on about.

It’s nice that they both found at least one friend around their age to help them survive here in Twisted Wonderland.

Now if they could stop teaming up to make you go grey before you turn eighteen, that’d be swell.

#my art #my writing #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland yuu #twst yuu #villainous paranoiac yuu #one piece #naruto #naruto oc #ketsugi mayu #nanbaka #nanbaka the numbers #nanbaka oc #0307 #nana #yuu is suffering #what is the best thing to do to a character who is bad with children? #give them some!! #make them responsible for tiny lives when they barely have any idea how to keep themselves together! #im having too much fun with this crossover help

[littlemixnet]

Little Mix on what it takes to survive being the most bullied band in pop

Still teenagers when they were catapulted to fame, superstardom came at a price for Little Mix. They open up to Francesca Babb about the soaring highs and crashing lows of the past nine years. It is the end of our YOU cover shoot, and I am facing the lesser-spotted sight of a barefaced Little Mix. Wet wipes swipe back and forth across their faces and, as the foundation departs in a deluge of coffee-coloured tissues, Jesy Nelson and Leigh-Anne Pinnock, both 29, and Jade Thirlwall and Perrie Edwards, both 27, visibly relax into their tracksuits and boyfriend jeans, shoulders dropping as they settle into themselves. I’m so used to seeing them contoured and camera ready that I assumed full glamour was their happy place. But perhaps the real Little Mix are not the war-paint-and-leotard-clad pop stars we’ve spent almost ten years watching grow up, but rather the four women they have become behind the glare of the spotlight. It’s those four women that I’m intrigued to meet. Since winning The X Factor nine years ago, there have been highs – selling over 50 million records globally, a significant percentage of which were self-penned, and creating enough accompanying make-up lines and merchandise to keep them and their families comfortable for the foreseeable future (recent reports suggest they have earned a combined £28.5 million to date). But there have also been lows – perpetual picking apart by both the public and the press, bullying and vitriol from online trolls. The most extreme cases of which led Jesy to attempt suicide during Little Mix’s early days in 2013 (she regards a tweet from the controversial Katie Hopkins – ‘Packet Mix have still got a chubber in their ranks. Less Little Mix. More Pick n Mix’ – as the ‘pinnacle point’ for her depression) and pushed Perrie into an ongoing struggle with anxiety. Fame has changed them. In some ways they are still youthful and silly – dropping phrases into conversation that wouldn’t be out of place in a playground – yet, in others, they are wise beyond their years, diving headfirst into battles on feminism, race and mental health. They’re fun enough to be light relief, smart enough to inspire a generation struggling with the pressures of youth and social media even before a pandemic was thrown at them, and ballsy enough to leave Simon Cowell’s record label because they didn’t feel he had their best interests at heart. ‘It’s never really been a cruise, has it?’ Jade ponders, a copy of social activist Bell Hooks’ 2002 feminist theory Communion: The Female Search For Love in her hand (not for show, I might add; when I ask her about it, she is well versed in its content). ‘It’s either been a really big high, or a really big low.’ Jesy, who has found herself the target of some of the cruelest contempt from the world outside Little Mix, agrees: ‘Some of the best times, some of the worst times.’ Comments on her weight, her looks, her place in the band, comments that she should take her own life, all led her into a deep depression and the aforementioned suicide attempt. Her documentary last year, Jesy Nelson: Odd One Out, revealed her journey through it all and, while harrowing, it is essential viewing on the realities of growing up in a world dominated by social media. ‘Before we got in the group, I never looked at myself and thought, “I don’t like that” – I don’t think any of us did. I never thought, “Oh god, I’m fat”, and then we got in the industry, and we all started wanting to change things about ourselves. It’s so sad. There are things [in the past] I definitely wish I hadn’t done,’ she says, referring to the suicide attempt, in which she took an overdose after a two-year battle with depression and an eating disorder. ‘But would I be the person I am today if I hadn’t gone through all of that?’ ‘There was a time when it was worse than it is now,’ adds Leigh-Anne, who has increasingly used her own Instagram channel to vocalise her experience of racism, both overt and underlying, throughout her time in the band. ‘I guess we’re taking steps forward, but I fear for my [future] daughters…’ ‘It makes me not want to have a kid,’ agrees Jesy. ‘Those insecurities that we all have now because of social media, imagine having that embedded in you as a child?’ Before you write them off as four very lucky girls ungratefully complaining about a lifestyle so many dream of, I should point out that they are fully aware of the paradox of their privilege. I suppose the point is, it’s not too much to ask to not be bullied to the point of hospitalisation as a by-product, is it? ‘Little Mix has changed our lives for the better, and our families’ lives, and we have achieved so much,’ says Perrie. ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ agrees Jesy (a warning I will hear repeatedly throughout our hour together, perhaps thanks to almost a decade of their quotes being blasted out of context for click-bait). ‘I’m not going to sit here and say we’ve got a terrible life, because we haven’t, but I do think our innocence was taken from us.’ It’s a while since the girls last did any press. Lockdown saw a halt to any activity they had planned, including the launch of their new talent show, BBC1’s Little Mix: The Search (in which they, well, search for a new band to mentor and join them on tour). But the time apart has not diminished their ability to finish each other’s sentences and jump to each other’s aid. It has, it seems, been really rather good for them and allowed them to come back fired up for the release of their sixth album, Confetti, which came out this week. ‘It was needed,’ agrees Jesy. ‘We’re never not with each other and we’re always busy. Our mornings start early, we finish really late.’ Being at home has meant more time spent with their families, with Jade even starting her own show on MTV with her mum Norma. Called Served!, the self-filmed series saw the pair interview celebrity drag queens and challenge each other to cooking competitions. ‘I love drag culture,’ she says, ‘and me mam was by herself in lockdown, so I thought it’d be something nice to keep her entertained.’ ‘Your mum could be on Loose Women,’ Leigh-Anne muses. ‘Imagine our mams on a show!’ shrieks Jade. ‘Nobody else would get a word in edgeways with my mam,’ laughs Perrie. ‘Ooh, when Debbie goes off on Twitter,’ says Jade, of Perrie’s mum’s habit of weighing in on comments from haters. ‘My mam will text me, have you seen Debbie’s been going off on someone!’ It is interesting that all four talk frequently about their mums throughout our chat, and yet there is no mention of fathers. While their mums often appear on Instagram, a sighting of Perrie’s dad on her 23rd birthday was extremely rare. Perhaps the Little Mix dads’ absence in the narrative is because the four girls were predominantly raised by their mothers (all of their parents separated when they were younger), and another reason the group’s bond is so tight. Little Mix are each other’s wall of arms, their own personal bodyguards. Jesy, they unanimously agree, is Scary Mix (although I find her a delight), which is interesting given her own inability to bat off other people’s words. ‘When it’s you on your own dealing with something personally,’ Jesy says, ‘It’s completely different. You feel so vulnerable alone, but we are a force when we’re together.’ It’s not hard to see, in today’s social-media obsessed society where there is little retribution for cruelty, why four attractive, successful young women, with attractive, successful young boyfriends (two footballers – Perrie dates Liverpool’s Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain, Leigh-Anne is engaged to Watford’s Andre Gray – while Jade is with Rizzle Kicks singer Jordan Stephens and Jesy is going out with Our Girl actor Sean Sagar), who seem to be living a dream life have found themselves at the heart of a whirlwind of vitriol. There was the infamous spat with Piers Morgan, in which he mocked them for posing naked but for the insults that have been hurled at them painted on their bodies. He accused them of using sex to sell records and called them ‘foul-mouthed, talentless, clothes-allergic little dimwits’, which is not how I find them to be. ‘I take Piers with a pinch of salt,’ Jesy says, rolling her eyes. ‘He does it to cause drama, so I take no notice. When we won The X Factor, we didn’t look like a generic girl band: we’re all different shapes and sizes, we didn’t dress sexy, so immediately everyone was, “What’s this?”’ ‘Usually, when you see a girl band, they’re perfection, they have six-packs – and we didn’t,’ continues Jesy. ‘People saw us as kids, so even though we’re now women, people still think of us that way, so when we come out on stage in leotards, they think, “That’s disgusting!”’ ‘One Direction didn’t get the s**t we get, because they’re men,’ states Leigh-Anne. ‘It’s like, “They’re four girls, let’s come at them”. As soon as it’s girls, they think, “Oh you slag.”’ ‘When it’s men, it’s celebrated, but the minute women sexualise themselves and feel powerful doing it, we’re told to rein it in,’ adds Jade. ‘We’re conditioned to think that women are there to be these innocent and pure beings and the minute you step out of that, it’s carnage.’ Little Mix, however, are not scared of embracing that carnage and of sparking a debate. For their show The Search, Jade describes how it was important for them to set the tone on respect when each new person auditioned. ‘Because we are small women, it’s important to show people that they need to respect us, that we know what we’re talking about and we need to be listened to,’ she says. ‘There’s no nastiness,’ continues Jesy about the show, which has been praised for modernising and freshening up the age-old TV format. ‘There’s no making anyone feel uncomfortable for entertainment.’ They also insisted a large part of their budget be dedicated to looking after the contestants’ mental health, understanding, first hand, the pitfalls of talent shows. The Search is not their first attempt at diversifying their talent. As a group, they have LMX make-up line and also a perfume, Style By Little Mix. Subsequently, they have become expert businesswomen, refusing to make the mistakes of pop groups past, so often left completely penniless at the end of their careers. ‘I remember walking into an early label meeting and saying, “This is who we want to be, this is the campaign we want, this is the imagery we want,”’ says Jade. ‘We knew our brand from the get go and we very much steered that ship.’ It’s a long way from their (as Jesy puts it) ‘working-class backgrounds’. Since joining the band, each one has bought their mum a house and, while their tale is not entirely rags to riches, the jump from Primark to Prada in recent years has certainly been significant. When it comes to business, Perrie describes herself and Leigh-Anne as the ones who will often seek a compromise in difficult situations, while they send Jesy and Jade in when deals need to be made. ‘Jesy’s the badass,’ Perrie laughs. ‘Whenever I’m scared, I’ll stand behind her. She’s the one who puts her foot down in a boardroom full of men and says, “It’s going to be this way.” But we pick our battles. We don’t just argue about every decision – it’s when we feel we have to.’ ‘Nobody could say that we are difficult, and if they do, they’re lying,’ says Leigh-Anne adamantly. Adds Jesy: ‘We know what we want, and we know what kids want.’ Little Mix have lived over a third of their lives in the spotlight. They’ve seen how things work, how things don’t, and they’ve learnt how to cope with it all. The lows may have been spectacularly low, but the highs have surpassed any of their expectations. Their story is not your classic fairytale, but it’s one they have learnt they can write their own ending for. If the Little Mix I meet today is anything to go by, I wouldn’t expect that ending to come any time soon. Little Mix’s new album Confetti is out now. Their movie LM5: The Tour Film will be in cinemas nationwide on 21 and 22 November.

#little mix #you magazine 2020 #article #2020 #confetti promo

[mc-critical]

What are your thoughts on Ibrahim? For me it went from indifference and dislike in season 1 to liking in season 2 and becoming my favorite male character in season 3 tbh. Actually the only good male character by season 3 (season 4 has many other options too). He is probably the most complex and well written character and I really sympathise with him. His arrogance was his downfall but if Suleyman wasn't such a bitch it wouldn't have been lol. He wasn't wrong in that imo. He was a slave, a fisherman's son but his intelligence and skill took him farther than anyone else and it's not wrong to be proud of such a feat. He deserved the pride more than just about anyone, even Suleyman. What I dislike the most about him is his treatment of Nigar after their relationship ended. She's my favorite character and although their relationship itself was my favorite in the whole show (other than Nurbanu and Selim) it ended really badly

Ibrahim is one of my most conflicting characters on the series: one time I feel like I don't get the appeal, especially not the stans in one Bulgarian forum, he doesn't elicit such a strong emotional reaction in me as he does in others, but then once he hits an incredibly strong arc and I begin to analyze his character and all its dimensions, I come to love him for what he is and realize how much effort has gone in conceiving and developing him. He's certainly the most well-written male character that isn't a sultan or a prince in the entire franchise. (the sultans aren't the brightest, but the bar is so high when it comes to their writing. There isn't any of them that is badly written. The princes are also well developed, but now that I think about it, Ibrahim surpasses some of them as well!) He's delightfully fleshed out with every detail; his actions, while morally ambiguous at times, are very understandable and you can clearly see the deeper, nuanced reasons why he does what he does. His arc was a sight to see from beginning to end and watching it reach its inevitable tragic conclusion was heartwrenching. At a point he became so important to the narrative, whether it was intentional or not, that the show (or actually, S03B in particular, because S04 was absolutely fantastic!) began to lowkey miss something without him. He had such a strong presence that couldn't be matched by anyone else after him.

[To be brutally honest though, I find his dynamic with Hürrem in terms of screentime to be kinda overrated. Not that it's bad or anything, quite the contrary - their chemistry was great, they were consistent and fun to watch, they had quite a few great scenes that were definetly more than Hürrem and Mahidevran's, I dare even say this is one of the most solid antagonistic dynamics of Hürrem's writing-wise, but I just find it sometimes gets way too much credit? It's weird, I know.]

The most interesting thing about him is, without a doubt, his fatal flaw that I... actually don't think is arrogance. It's not up for argument that Ibrahim can definetly come off as arrogant, but the arrogance is rather a manifestation of his fatal flaw, not his fatal flaw itself. I believe that it's precisely his inferiority complex that is the root of his vulnerabilities: as you said, he's been only a fisherman in Parga, and his background is both a source of memories where he can recall his more "innocent" days with his family and a tough spot for him where he is consistently reminded of something that is already in the past after all he has achieved. He did want to return to Parga, to see who he used to be one more time, but after that it's as if he never gets a chance to forget, to put it behind him. He pretends he has forgotten, but that consistent reminder of how he has started seems to be constantly haunting him to the point he begins to remind himself of it. It's not only people like Figani, Iskender Çelebi or the other members of the divan in early S01 that don't let him forget, it's as if he himself doesn't want to forget. It's undeniable that he had climbed up to heights he wouldn't dream of and the role of a grand vezier needed getting used to and to be dealt with with care. On one hand, we could argue that he reminds himself of Parga as a way to preserve his moral compass, in a way, to realize when and how he has screwed up or remind himself of the limitations of how far can he go, for Süleiman is his friend and companion who he wouldn't want to disappoint. But on the other hand, the more he rose in the hierarchy, the stronger became a wish for him to exceed these limitations placed upon him by everyone around. Süleiman is able to give him everything if he wishes, so why not let it happen? Then he's going to prove to everyone, prove to his inner demons, this sense of inferiority that he, in fact, can not only become the most politically adept grand vezier there is, but a person who has his own country within the country and can rule it with ease. The political arena ultimately becomes a target of his inner conflict where he projects more power than anyone else, is most influential and does the best in order to gain the goal, not only to gain SS's approval, but show that, yeah, he can do his best for the role he's put in, fixating on the Ottoman country he claims to be a ruler of and his apparently endless rights. It turns into a coping mechanism where he can escape his past and background and he gets so sucked in it that his self awareness becomes less and less. That's where his arrogance comes from and I feel that if he didn't possess that complex of his, he would've managed things way better and had more self control, as a result. He was a very good politician in the show, setting in motion many good strategies (his strategy gave them the Mohacs victory after all), having a strong, pragmatic mind and many innovative ideas and if he didn't try his hardest to convince himself he's worth something that isn't just the story of the fisherman in Parga, Hürrem wouldn't stand a chance against him.

This inferiority complex is the reason for his infidelity, too. He loves Hatice dearly and he never expected that she of all people would do the very thing he dreads the most. Her pulling rank on him came as such a shock for him that it seemed he would never forget or forgive. It put infinetly more salt to the wound, deeply hurting his ego and the self-esteem he was just beginning to gain. That's why he let himself in Nigar's hands for so long, for she would only want to please him, for that relationship would have no limitations whatsoever and wouldn't restrict Ibrahim in any way. It was something that was his, something the dynasty would never touch or learn about. I love Nigar and Ibrahim's relationship, too. Principally, I'm not a fan of love triangles at all, but that one is a notable exception for how wonderfully, but crushingly psychological it is. It wasn't added in only for the sake of the drama, it was set up for very long and it was like the characters actually got there through their own actions and they had to truly face that struggle to flesh out and evolve. But there wasn't genuine love there, not in Ibrahim's part. That was his biggest weakness speaking, causing the illusion of love, not the real feeling of it. He wanted to preserve this relationship as the fisherman in Parga, but to me, it felt like he showed something more similar to his own confident assertions of the power of a grand vezier than actual regard for Nigar's feelings. It all was a lie he wanted to believe, because of his ego's denial, and he believed it so much he told Nico that Nigar was the person he truly loved in E51. And when he did get out of the lie (the monologue in E57), see how he reacts differently in front of her now - he turns off every single try of hers to give him affection, he reacted very badly when he learned she was pregnant, it was as if he wanted her to wake up from the dream and move on, too? And due to his inner conflict that perpetuates his arrogance grew even more in S03, he got over Nigar, but not over her child. Esmanur's birth made him return to and enforced his old habits that made him consider that child as another piece of solace, something out of the dynasty, also only his, trying so desperately to have her live with him and Hatice. The infidelity and the way he treated Nigar after he realized the error of his ways are ones of the worst things Ibrahim did, along with Leo (now, I get he wanted to knock Hürrem down a peg, but that was admittedly much for me.) and while I understand why these events and interactions came to fruition, I can't justify him for them.

I agree that had Süleiman not given him as much power, his inferiority complex would be highly downplayed, at the very least. He underestimated the possible consequences of Ibrahim's rise and it really doesn't look like he knows him as much as he thinks he does. Whether he did it to test him (SS's lasting reminders that Ibrahim gets closer to death) or because he loves him dearly and wants to embrace his potential ("I want you to use that mind only for me!") or both, it's like he gave him both too much freedom and too many boundaries at once. I mean, I understand why SS executed Ibrahim: his affirmations, no matter their backstory and how metaphorical they are, pose a definite threat for a padişah and along with his growing paranoia of betrayal, he couldn't be sure how far he was going to go anymore. It's as if Ibrahim crossed every line, openly acting like he controls the padişah and his state in front of the fellow pashas, efendis and ambassadors and that couldn't be controlled anymore. It's as if he had done his best efforts to bring him down to earth, but since none of it was working, he decided to act accordingly. The many "failures" of Ibrahim have been piling up in the narrative in the span of 81 episodes and I get why SS would finally snap for what was the final straw. However, doing so much unprecedented stuff for a grand vezier was bound to bring disasters for the padişah due to the chance in his mind that he would try to question or prevail over him, hence Süleiman should've realized that it was only natural one would want more and more. And that happened with S03 Ibrahim - he fought more and more with his inner demons, hence wanting to have more and more to be validated by the others and by his own ego that perhaps wouldn't feel satisfied regardless.

While his fatal flaw underlines his complexity, it also gets complimented by his many positive qualities: his love for Hatice was very sweet in the beggining and after the Nigar plot, it turned out to be really genuine - their reconciliation was very telling in that aspect; his relationship and loyalty to Süleiman deserves respect, even though his inferiority complex came in the way, he still would never give him up and never once lost hope in his recovery when he was in his deathbed and while that may become up for debate in S03, he would never openly stand against him and would gladly try his best to please him; his bond with Mustafa is amazing, too - I love how he practically raised that kid and gave him sound advice as well as his mother; that said, his relationship with Mahidevran deserves more appreciation and it is one of the most reciprocal and understanding, soft and "carefee" dynamics of the show; I love his dedication to his family and how he loves them as much and remembers them with the same fondness as ever before. In short, when going in depth, this multifaceted character has so much to offer, like, wow!

Okay, when I first watched the show, there was that point where I felt Ibrahim overstayed his welcome and I even wanted for Hürrem to finish him already (heh, those were the days! 😅) but now when I've rewatched and reexamined MC many times, I see that despite of his few negative traits, everything about this character flows so well and so organically and it's one of the characters in the series that have aged really well with time in my eyes. And I respect him so much for that.

#magnificent century #ibrahim pasha #ask #illusorybeing

[silverfootstepswrites]

Amaryllis | Chapter 19

< Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 >

++++

Shisui started off his day by spitting tea halfway across the table. He rubbed his handkerchief over his mouth and chin as he struggled to make sense of what his cousin had just said.

“You think what?” he hissed. And then, clearing his throat, he cast a look around the room. Sasuke’s guards were standing outside. The servant girl who had delivered their tea and snacks had long since departed. Still, he couldn’t help but feel nervous. Even if he hadn’t been the one to bring up the subject, him sitting and listening now made him complicit to whatever was to come of this.

“Don’t make me repeat myself. I hate the idea more than you do,” Sasuke sighed. He set his teacup down in the matching saucer.

“You’re speaking treason. You’re going to get yourself killed. Oh, and me as well, now that you’ve roped me into your madness,” Shisui worried.

“You think I don’t know that?” It was Sasuke’s turn to snap. His hands clenched on top of the table.

Shisui’s protests trailed off. They stared at each other. Shisui lowered his handkerchief.

“Is that why Itachi is still abroad?” he whispered, leaning in across the table.

Sasuke nodded. Just once.

“So what do you need from me?” Shisui then demanded.

Sasuke hesitated. He chose his words carefully before he asked: “Your wife… do you think she can be trusted?”

Shisui hissed through his teeth. He leaned back, rubbing a hand through his hair. When his eyes returned to Sasuke, they were sharp with accusation.

“You’ll get her killed.”

“Can she be trusted?” Sasuke repeated his question.

Shisui rubbed his hair again. And then he heaved a sigh. “Of course she can.”

“How do you know?” pressed Sasuke.

“She just…” Shisui paused. Huffed out a long breath through his nostrils. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. Opened them again. “I’d trust her with my life and yours. Tell me what you want.”

Each of the members of the royal family had a personal physician. It was the doctor’s job to know everything about them. To anticipate their needs and to provide prompt treatment. Finding one doctor was a challenge. Finding four was a miracle. Although, with enough money and power, even miracles were for sale.

Sasuke’s physician was a pleasant older man with perpetually cool hands. He had overseen Sasuke’s care since birth. And while he was certainly competent at his job, he wasn’t the person Sasuke needed to talk to.

Karin lowered her spectacles to stare at the two men that entered her office.

“Why not take a break, my love?” Shisui greeted her. He crossed the room before he produced a small bouquet of yellow flowers. Karin didn’t look at the flowers. She continued to examine Shisui’s smile.

She squinted at him.

“What did you do?” she demanded.

Shisui held the flowers up higher. Until she was forced to look down at them. His smile widened as she glowered and accepted them.

“Nothing yet,” Shisui assured her. Karin wrinkled her nose. She fussed with the bright flowers for a moment before she motioned for them to have a seat in front of her desk.

As they settled into their spots, Sasuke tilted his head. He looked from his cousin, a baron of modest but good standing. And then to his mother’s physician, a common woman who was tolerated in the palace due to her skill.

“How did you two marry anyway?” he wondered out loud.

Karin fixed Shisui with another sharp look. “He pursued me aggressively, getting in the way of my work,” she accused.

Shisui leaned against the arm of his chair. “For months,” he added. And then he gave a proud smile. “She despised me. I came to her office every day until she threatened to report me to Her Majesty the Queen.”

Sasuke made a face as he watched the two of them banter back and forth.

He had never understood relationships. He understood that, as a prince, he would eventually have to marry.

His parents were an example of a good union. They spent the required amount of time together for the public eye. Their conversations were polite. Almost always pleasant. On their weekly walks in the garden, courtiers loved to comment at what a lovely couple they made. His father had always honored his mother, and his mother had always supported his father. That was all he had ever known.

From a young age, his mother had made an effort to introduce him to potential brides. But she had never pushed him. Listened to his complaints with patience. Chided him when he was less than polite to these girls. Sitting on her knee, Sasuke had wondered why such silly little things seemed to matter so much to his uncles.

“A stable marriage, my son, leads to a stable kingdom. Your partner will determine the fate of this nation and all its people,” she had always explained to him.

But sometimes, when he looked at his cousin and his cousin’s wife, he wondered whether there might not be more to it than just stability.

“Anyway, as nice as it is to see you, Prince, I’m assuming this isn’t a social visit?” Karin interrupted his thinking. She raised her spectacles on top of her head. The metal and glass was lost in her tangle of deep red hair. He had only ever seen a color like that once before. It was rare enough to turn heads wherever she went.

“Shisui claims that I can trust you with my life. Is that true, Physician?”asked Sasuke.

Karin’s eyes narrowed. “Is that what he said?” she mused. She looked down at the flowers again. Then back up at Sasuke. “Have you gotten yourself into some trouble, Your Highness?”

Shisui pinched his mouth together, trying not to smile. He turned away and pretended to look out the window.

“Well… not yet. It… it depends on your answer, I suppose,” Sasuke conceded.

Karin’s scrutinizing gaze didn’t leave his face. “Your question makes me feel the need to remind you that I am in the service of your mother, Your Highness,” she stated.

Sasuke felt heat creep up the back of his neck. But he refused to look away. He nodded.

And after what felt like an eternity, Karin smiled.

“But, ultimately, I serve the Crown. So what can I help you with?”

+++

Itachi hadn’t quite known what to expect when people had warned him of the rainy season that settled over the tea isles for half the year. The rain rarely lasted for the whole day. Often, storms hurried in, enveloping the island before rushing off just as quickly. Sometimes, people didn’t even bother rushing indoors. Baskets on their hips, they leaned against palm trees or ducked under eaves until the clouds passed.

But on the days when the rain lingered, it drenched the island. The walkways grew slick, and some of the regular paths turned to mud. The servants of Sami were busy mopping up puddles and searching for leaks. Small problems had to be addressed before they could grow. A tiny leak gone undetected could lead to the entire roof collapsing in a few month’s time.

Still, life went on. Even during this rainy season.

The stalls in the market had been designed with this precipitation in mind. Panels folded and shutters closed to protect the wares within. And when the rain eased a little, the stalls opened back up to conduct business as usual. Even in the rain, divers continued to hunt for pearls. The servants in the palace kept kneading dough and folding laundry that had barely made it inside in time.

Dark clouds had gathered on the horizon at dawn. Before the sun could lift its face over the horizon, rain battered the side of the building. Normally, the opened sides of the throne room let the breeze rush through. But during the rainy season, wooden panels were installed to keep the wind and the water out.

“Please, My Lord. I am innocent,” an old man rasped. His wrinkled hands gripped his walking stick.

The Duchess’ large chair was empty. Instead, Sasori sat in a smaller chair beside it.

The space between Sasori’s eyebrows wrinkled. He leaned his cheek on his hand as he stared the man down.

“Accusing someone of withholding wages is a serious matter,” Sasori stated. He narrowed his eyes. “I doubt it is something that was done without thought.”

The old man’s shoulders trembled. He bowed his head. But he did not stumble over his words as he replied: “Yes, My Lord.”

Sasori stared for another moment. And then he closed his eyes.

“Very well. I will look into this matter. And if you have paid this man for his work, he will be punished for false accusations,” he decided.

The old man bowed even deeper. He stayed that way for a long time before he shuffled his way out. Sasori watched him. He rolled some observations around in his head. And then, very carefully, he motioned for a nearby guard.

Sasori pressed a finger to his lips. He waited for the guard to nod before he whispered something. The guard only nodded before he made his way out of the throne room. Sasori leaned his elbow on his armrest. He heaved a sigh before he motioned for the next person.

Leaning against a column, Itachi frowned. The verdict Sasori had laid out was both fair and pragmatic. But something about the exchange had felt a little off.

As if he could hear his thoughts, Sasori turned his head to look at him. The corner of his mouth lifted. He pointed to his foot.

“His limp,” was all Sasori said.

It took a moment for Itachi to realize what he meant. When the old man had entered, he had favored his right leg. But as he departed, he had favored his left. As if standing there under Sasori’s piercing stare had made him forget which side was supposed to hurt. As Itachi’s eyes widened, Sasori smirked. Sasori shook his head.

“People are so sloppy,” he sighed.

As the next person entered for audience, Sasori’s smile faded. But there was still something smug about his eyes as he cast Itachi one last, knowing look.

“What brings you here today? The Duchess is occupied, but I will hear your grievances,” Sasori recited, as he had half a dozen times that morning.

But as Itachi settled in to listen to this next case, he felt something on his shoulder. As he turned, he was met with a white mask and a wild mane of straw-colored hair. He jolted.

Out of all the sword-wielding mercenaries who wandered the palace, Kushimaru was the only one that Itachi could not get used to. Part of that was undoubtedly the way he never took off that mask. And the other was because he never spoke.

Even now, all Kushimaru did was hold out a slip of paper.

Itachi accepted it. He unfolded it to find a short message. It only took a moment to read.

“Right now?” he asked.

Kushimaru dipped his head once. And then he stalked off.

Itachi folded the note and placed it in his pocket. He turned back to Sasori to let him know that he would be leaving. But Sasori was already looking at him. He nodded before Itachi had a chance to mouth anything. Sometimes, Sasori’s acuity was a little frightening.

It had been almost half a year since Sakura’s departure.

In that time, Itachi had learned many things. Like when the fishermen greeted him with a smiling “Howzit, Prince”, he was supposed to answer, “Good. And you?”. Or how arguments in the bazaar always sounded angrier than they actually were. After getting turned around for a few weeks, Itachi had even learned the layout of most of the palace.

In turn, the people of the island were learning about him too. Shizune remembered that he preferred fish and poultry to red meat. The servants starched his clothes a little less because he liked his shirts soft. There was a merchant with a wooden finger who always sent word whenever he procured a new book that he thought might interest him.

Sasuke wrote at least once a week. It was amusing how he spoke to his little brother so much more now that they lived so far apart. The contents of his messages mostly described the mundane. Sasuke wrote about the weather. About how some noble’s daughter had thrown herself at him and begged to have his children. Every once in a while, there were hints of more serious matters, but Sasuke never went into enough detail to cause problems should someone intercept his messages.

From what Itachi could gather, Sasuke had begun requesting more duties. Their father would, undoubtedly, approve of his youngest son taking on more responsibilities. And the nobles who wanted the second prince on the throne would begin moving soon when they began to see Sasuke gaining favor.

As Itachi stepped out of the throne room, he stretched his hand out. A single drop of water fell into his palm, rolling down to his wrist. The rain had retreated, at least for a little while. The dark clouds on the horizon promised more precipitation to come.

“Ah, there you are!”

Itachi lifted his head as Kisame’s voice boomed out. The tall, blue mercenary waved as he strode down the walkway.

“Drinks on me, Prince!” he announced.

Itachi didn’t resist as Kisame threw his arm around his shoulder and lead him in the direction of the city. As they passed, the guards bowed. They sloshed down the steps together, Kisame going on about some type of new drink at one of his usual haunts. The chatter went on and on as they walked the damp streets.

The Sailor’s Rest was one of the oldest taverns in Plumeria. The Swordsmen of the Mist had taken up lodging there during their first days on the island. Although Sakura had offered them rooms in the palace, the mercenaries had declined.

Chojuro was sitting at one of the tables when they entered. Across from him sat Zabuza, who leaned with his feet up on the table. As Kisame walked past, he slapped one of Zabuza’s boots.

“Mind your manners around the prince, Zabuza,” Kisame joked.

“He’s not my master and neither are you,” growled Zabuza in response.

“Yes, your only master lies in your loins,” Chojuro commented as he continued writing. Zabuza’s eyes narrowed.

Kisame grinned. “Honestly. The General would kill you if she could see the way you follow that servant boy,” he goaded.

The space between Zabuza’s eyebrows wrinkled. He glared down at his tankard. “That’s not…” He huffed out a long breath. Before he could finish his thought, Kisame threw himself down in the seat beside Zabuza. He gave him a hearty thump on the back.

“Relax, Zabuza. You look more and more like an old man these days,” Kisame teased.

Zabuza shot another glare at him. “You’re a year older than me.”

“I’m a fresh-faced lad at heart,” retorted Kisame.

A noise of disgust rose around the table. Kisame looked up when something hit his head. He glared up at the rafters, where Kushimaru was undoubtedly hiding.

“Alright, alright. Drinks on me,” Kisame conceded. The noises of disgust faded away.

As the bartender began pouring their drinks, Itachi looked around the room.

Itachi glanced over as Chojuro began packing up his things. “What were you working on?”

Chojuro was oddly soft-spoken to be a mercenary. It was also strange enough that he was literate. Sakura had mentioned once that she thought Chojuro must be a bastard. One who had received an education from his father, but not an inheritance.

“We have a lot of those in the army. I like them. They’re desperate to show the world that they matter. They work harder than most,” she had commented in passing.

“Just making note of some things. It makes it easier to keep facts straight if they’re recorded,” answered Chojuro. As he spoke, Chojuro shut his journal and placed it under his thigh.

The drinks arrived at the table. Kisame took a gulp of his mead.

“How are you feeling, Prince?” he then asked.

Itachi rotated his shoulder as he thought. “A little sore, but otherwise fine. I can’t help but wonder whether you’ve been going easy on me lately,” answered Itachi before he took a sip.

Kisame wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before he grinned a mouth full of sharp teeth.

“Sounds to me like someone’s ready for a bigger challenge,” he declared.

“Or you could do things in moderation, Boss,” Chojuro interrupted.

Kisame made a noise of disgust as he repeated the word: “Moderation.”

Chojuro rolled his eyes.

“You break the prince and I doubt the lady will show you any moderation,” Chojuro warned.

Kisame jerked a thumb in Itachi’s direction. “He won’t break so easy.”

Itachi met Kisame’s eyes. There was something in Kisame’s gaze that made him feel like maybe he wasn’t joking.

Kisame’s hand moved to the hilt of his sword. Chojuro’s fingers slipped into his vest. Itachi followed their stares, turning his head just as the door opened.

Two men walked in, stinking of salt and fish. Their hair and clothes were wet, dripping onto the floor. They each raised a hand in greeting to the mercenaries.

“Howzit, Big Blue,” one of them called out as they crossed the room to join them.

“Not too bad. How was the catch today?” responded Kisame, his hand falling away from his weapon. Chojuro’s expression relaxed as he nodded at the other men.

The fishermen shook their heads. “Poor catch. Maybe we need a new spot,” they lamented. And then their faces lit up even more when they spotted Itachi.

“Ah, howzit, Prince? You looking strong these days,” one of the men commented.

“He trying to catch up with the Duchess, dass why,” the other said.

Everyone, including Itachi, chuckled.

“Please, have a seat. You must be tired,” Itachi insisted. The two fishermen sank into the chairs with sighs. They ordered their drinks, and then they settled in, fanning themselves.

“Ah, you know, Big Blue, we saw something strange before,” one of them suddenly brought up.

Kisame arched an eyebrow as he finished off his mead.

“Saw some buggah sailing in from the west. Weird boat. So we ask him if he lost. Says no. Rude, too,” he recounted.

“Why was it weird?” Kisame queried.

The fisherman shrugged. “Not a canoe like for fishing. Merchant boat, but shaped funny,” he recalled, rubbing his chin.

“Funny?” Chojuro repeated.

The fisherman squinted as he thought. When he looked over his companion, the other fisherman nodded.

“Kind of small… And- ah! There was a crest!” he recalled. He looked around the table. Chojuro had already pulled out his journal and turned to a clean page. He presented his pen, leaning over as he watched the man sketch out what he had seen as best as he could.

Chojuro’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “That is odd…” he agreed. His gaze trailed to Kisame, who raised his eyebrows as he thought. He shrugged one shoulder. Chojuro stayed for one drink before he quietly excused himself, journal tucked under his arm.

++++

To the west, in the landlocked capital of the Forest Kingdom, where fishing was neither good nor bad, Naruto found himself at the doors of the temple again.

“So are you going to go in, or are you just going to stand here breathing heavily like some sort of pervert?” Sai drawled.

Naruto spared him a glare. “You don’t have to be here, you know,” Naruto snapped.

Sai blinked. Like he hadn’t expected his charge to talk back. After all, Naruto was usually all laughs and sheepish grins. Sai searched Naruto’s expression before he shrugged.

“They would have my head if anything happened to you. And a certain General isn’t around to play savior,” remarked Sai.

Naruto squinted at him. “You sound real invested in my safety,” he retorted.

Sai smiled. Hand over his heart, he dipped his head. “Your well-being is my top priority. I’m sworn to watch over you, remember?” he uttered. Something about his tone felt threatening.

Naruto felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He swallowed.

“…You don’t have to come inside. Wait out here,” Naruto said.

Sai’s eyebrows rose. He searched Naruto’s face before he gave another smile.

“Of course,” he answered. He bowed too deep before he opened the door. It slammed behind Naruto as he stepped into the temple. The sound made him flinch. It echoed off the high ceilings. Thankfully, there was no one praying to disrupt. But it did make the High Priestess gasp. She dropped something metal. It went skittering across the stone.

“Goodness!” she exclaimed. As she got down on her hands and knees, Naruto sprinted down the aisle.

“Let me help you!” Naruto called. The priestess’ head rose toward the sound of his voice.

Naruto found the pendant under one of the pews. He rubbed it clean against his shirt.

“Here,” he said.

She held her hands out, skin white against the soft purple of her robes. The chain pooled in her palm. She closed her fingers around the metal disk. And then she smiled.

“Thank you, Prince. You are too kind,” she murmured.

Naruto rubbed the back of his neck.

“Ah… well, it’s kind of my fault you dropped it. My retainer slammed the door. Sorry about that,” he confessed.

Hinata’s smile brightened. “An apology isn’t necessary. But I appreciate it nonetheless.”

Like all high priestesses before her, Hinata could not see. Blindness was seen as a blessing from the goddess that marked them as chosen. The priestess could remain unsullied by the things of the world if she could not see them. Hinata wore a translucent veil over her face, but anyone could see the cloudiness of her eyes. The way they searched without seeing. She had been born sightless. People had gushed to Duke Hyuuga over how blessed his family was to have given birth to the next high priestess.

Naruto didn’t really care about those things.

The high priestess’ smiles were real. And she was kind. Two things that were becoming harder and harder to come by in this city.

Or, perhaps, he was starting to recognize when a smile wasn’t so sincere.

“How… how have you been?” Naruto asked, struggling not to trip over his words.

Hinata dipped her head. “Quite well. And you, Your Highness?” she asked in turn.

Naruto looked down at his hands. He fidgeted a little before he lifted his chin. He cast a glance around the temple, just to make sure that it was empty.

“Worried… um…” Naruto paused. Stole a glance at Hinata. Her head tilted to one side as she listened.

Naruto tried not to panic before he pulled the words out. Just as he had rehearsed in his head a dozen times over. “Can I get your advice on something?”

“Of course. The temple exists to provide guidance for those who feel lost,” Hinata responded.

“Can we… uh… should we sit?” he then suggesting, glancing around again. Hinata’s smile didn’t change.

“If that would make you more comfortable, most certainly. Would you please assist me?” she requested, holding out her bare hand.

Naruto gulped. He hesitated for a moment. And then he took it. Her skin was smooth and soft. Her hand was so much smaller than his, he realized as he helped her into the nearest pew. When she sat, she withdrew her hand back into her sleeve. Naruto couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

He sat beside her, leaving some distance between them. He flexed his empty hand that suddenly felt cold.

“So…” Naruto exhaled deeply. He knocked his palm against his forehead, as if that would shake the words loose.

“Please take your time. There is no need to rush,” Hinata assured him.

That did help a little. He managed to grasp the unraveling threads of the question he had nearly forgotten.

“Say that you have a friend. And… you used to be closer. But lately you’re more… uh…” Naruto stopped as he searched for the word.

“Distant?” suggested Hinata.

Naruto nodded. “Exactly! Distant!” The word echoed back across the vaulted ceiling. Naruto slapped his hands down on his mouth. When he snuck a peek over at Hinata, she didn’t seem bothered.

“Sorry,” he whispered as he pried his hands away.

She nodded. “Quite alright.”

“So, I’ve been trying everything to make things better. But there are just lots of things in this… person’s… life that I want to understand. It’s just like there’s a wall up between us or something,” Naruto explained. He heaved a sigh, elbows resting on his knees. He rubbed his face with both hands.

“I just… I know I’ve messed up some things too. I want to be better. And sometimes it feels like I am being better. But other times… I just don’t know…” he trailed off.

It was quiet for a while. And then Hinata opened her mouth.

“Is it uncomfortable to speak in person with this friend?” she wondered.

Naruto considered that. He chuckled a little. “Yes. I feel like I say the wrong thing… a lot,” he confessed. “Maybe it’s because I get nervous.”

Hinata lifted her arms to adjust her sleeves. There was a thin golden band around her left wrist. It glittered with the movement. Naruto found himself staring at it.

“Have you tried writing to him instead? I often hear that it is easier for some to gather thoughts on paper,” she suggested.

Naruto hung his head. His silence was an answer in itself.

“Your friend… he does not write back to you?” asked Hinata.

“Sh- He doesn’t,” he replied.

Letters upon letters left the capital. Sometimes he even wrote daily. But the days stretched on without a single envelope addressed for him. Even a passing mention of his letters would have been enough in person. But she always stared at him with the same look of impatience. If she even looked at him at all. Sometimes Sakura’s eyes passed right over him- like he was invisible.

“That must be hurtful,” Hinata sympathized. And then her expression shifted. “Perhaps… Have you asked, Prince?”

“Asked what?” Naruto asked in the same glum voice.

“Whether your friend has received your letters. Messengers travel a long way. Letters can get lost now and then,” she explained.

“Maybe… well… no. I have no way of knowing that. I… didn’t think to ask,” Naruto mumbled.

Hinata’s hands slipped back into her sleeves. She offered him a gentle smile. “Then perhaps that is something you can ask him the next time you see him. Misunderstandings grow large in the absence of communication, you see.”

Naruto’s gaze drifted toward the window. The light danced in through leaves. The shadows rippled and swayed across the floor like so many dancers.

“Maybe I should,” he agreed.

As he meditated on this, it occurred to him that Hinata might be right.

The cousin he had grown to admire and then fear had once been his friend. Although she had always been smarter and faster, she had never abandoned him in the woods or left him in whatever ravine he had tumbled down. She had complained and scolded. But never left him behind.

During the few months they had spent together last summer, he had seen the same grudging patience in her. Even when she snapped. Even when she rolled her eyes. She always found him in the room. Always made sure he was safe.

She had even shed blood for him. Spilling it across the floor like scattered sunlight. He tried to remember what emotion her face had shown in that moment. Anger?

No. Fear.

And then relief, maybe?

“I’ll ask,” Naruto decided. “I should ask,” he said again, nodding to himself.

They sat in the quiet for a long while. The clock tower chimed outside. It was noon.

Winter had come and gone. Everyone was hard at work now that they were no longer trapped indoors by ice and snow. There were fields to till. Fish to catch. The entire city was alive and moving.

But all was still inside the temple.

Hinata clasped her hands in her lap. “Can I provide you any additional guidance?” she asked.

“No. Thank you. I feel a lot better.”

Hinata inclined her head. “I am glad to have been of service. The temple welcomes all to find rest from their troubles,” she replied.

“Oh!” Naruto exclaimed. Hinata jumped a little. Naruto didn’t notice as he turned and began digging in his satchel. He produced a bright yellow flower.

“I almost forgot. I brought something for you,” he announced, gripping the stem in his hand.

Rather than the smile Naruto had expected, Hinata answered with silence.

“Forgive my rudeness, but… I… I cannot accept anything from you. Servants of the temple cannot accept material goods,” she uttered.

“Oh. I mean… it’s… oh.” Because he hadn’t even considered what that must have sounded like to her. How many people must have climbed these steps just to bribe the high priestess for a blessing or some sort of favor?

Naruto fumbled for the right words. He looked around. Took a deep breath. Blew it out. Took in another.

“It’s a flower,” he finally explained.

“A flower?” she repeated.

“I picked it in the garden. Because it was pretty. It’s not worth any money,” Naruto went on.

Hinata’s face went blank.

“Is that… still not allowed?” wondered Naruto.

“I…. thank you. But… I still…” Hinata couldn’t finish her thought. Didn’t really need to.

Naruto stared at the wilting flower in his grasp.

“That’s not your fault. I should’ve thought a little more about this,” he sighed. As he got to his feet, Hinata lifted her chin.

“I truly am grateful,” she insisted.

Naruto put on a smile. For who, he wasn’t sure.

“Yeah. I’ll… I’ll come again,” he said.

“Please do.”

Naruto ignored Sai’s questions as he exited the temple. He threw the flower on the street as he strode down the steps. He knew that Sai was commenting about it. But it was easy to block him out.

She had asked him to come back.

That was what mattered more than any of his retainer’s snide remarks.

+++

“It’s been a few months, but Aunt Kurenai says that things are calm back home,” Kankuro skimmed over the message. The paper was in surprisingly good shape for traveling such a long distance.

The seasons meant little in the Viper’s Throat. It was hotter here than it was back in Ebizo’s palace. The last weeks of winter had passed in Baki’s palace with mostly unforgiving, hot days. Now that the calendar’s announced a new season, the temperatures remained unchangingly high.

Prince Baki imported large quantities of ice from the north to store underground. The ice cooled the palace as the air moved up the caverns and into the buildings through large towers. The servants also did their best to keep things comfortable. They ran back and forth chipping off pieces of the ice to scatter into drinks. Azra and Esma kept busy with their large fans any moment they weren’t carrying out another task.

Temari held her hand out. Kankuro leaned over to pass the letter to her. Temari rubbed her knuckles against her chin as she read.

“Do they really have no idea that Lady Sakura has been abroad?” she wondered.

“That was written at least a couple months ago. Perhaps they have noticed by now. They must have at least one brain between all of them,” replied Sakura. She shifted in her seat, crossing and recrossing her legs.

Gaara looked up when the twins entered. Azra set a tray down on the table. It was heavy with sweets and a fresh pot of tea. Esma knelt beside Sakura with a basin filled with towels. Each one had been soaked with fragrant water and rolled into the shape of a different flower. Sakura took one, still speaking.

“How have preparations been going, to your knowledge?” she queried. She unfolded the damp towel and wiped her hands. As the servant moved around the table, each person took a towel. When she reached him, Gaara offered a smile.

“Thank you,” he said.

She lifted her chin to look into his eyes. She looked surprised. As if she had never heard such words before. But then her expression shifted back to the polite smile she always wore. She bowed before she moved on.

When Gaara turned his head, he found Sakura staring at the servant girl. On the windowsill behind her, Suigetsu was staring too. His hands folded together under his chin. When his gaze met Gaara’s, the mercenary smirked.

“Messages travel slowly. I wish I had more updates for you,” Kankuro sighed. He rubbed the back of his neck.

Sakura leaned back in her seat. “I can hardly hold you responsible for that,” she responded.

“The last response I received was when I wrote to Sasori to let him know that you were bringing back plenty of guests. He assured me that they would have a comfortable place to stay on the island,” he recalled. He leaned back on his palms with another sigh.

“Where? Lady Sakura was promised thousands,” asked Temari, examining her nails.

Kankuro ruffled both his hands through his hair. “Don’t ask that right now. My head will explode,” Kankuro groaned.

Temari and Sakura exchanged a look. “Don’t tease him. I don’t have a replacement for him if his head really does explode,” Sakura scolded. Temari laughed.

Sakura pulled her hair off her neck with a sigh. She heard a few murmured words. And then Esma was standing behind her, fanning with all the fury of a soldier charging into battle.

“Oh my, she tries so hard. It’s adorable,” Kankuro remarked, leaning toward the breeze. He blinked when Temari returned the letter to him. Folding it into thirds, he tucked it into his pocket.

“Prince Baki has promised you troops. You have yet to meet them. Aren’t you suspicious, Lady Sakura?” Temari inquired, crossing one leg over the other.

“It would be dishonorable for him to go back on his word. He would not suffer such shame. He will keep his word. I’m confident,” answered Sakura.

They enjoyed glasses of tea filled with ice and mint. They moved on to lighter topics- simple gossip, the weather. Kankuro brought up an old story of how he had once flirted with a woman without realizing she was married. The woman’s irate husband had chased them both through the market. They laughed as they recalled Kankuro’s terror.

As the time passed, the heat of the afternoon sun swelled and then eased. They decided that a walk around the palace would be the perfect way to pass the time before supper. Temari looked over at Kankuro, who had dozed off some time ago. As Temari took a step toward him to shake him awake, Sakura’s voice interrupted her.

“Let him rest. He must be exhausted.”

Rolling her eyes, Temari stepped away from him, moving toward the door instead.

Azra and Esma brought out a shawl. Despite the heat, Sakura draped it over her bare arms and shoulders. She reached back, searching. Gaara slipped his hand into hers. She pulled him forward to match her pace without looking at him.

The stone halls of the palace echoed with their footsteps. The northern wing of the palace was quiet. Visitors were not permitted to roam there without her permission. But once they reached the center of the palace, they could hear voices and music. There was always some kind of performer or visitor to keep the harem occupied.

They passed a tall woman wearing a glimmering gown. She spotted them. Sneered without greeting. And then moved on. She barked something to the servant girls behind her. The girls kept their eyes to the ground, shaking hands folded in front of them. One of them looked like she might be limping.

Sakura’s eyes narrowed.

She reached a hand out from under her shawl, beckoning. Azra and Esma moved toward her.

“That woman?” asked Sakura, keeping her voice low. The twins’ eyes moved toward the woman’s retreating back.

“That is Concubine Deba, General,” Azra replied in the same half-whisper. She flinched as Concubine Deba snapped at the servants. When one of the girls reached out, the concubine slapped her hands away, her voice growing even more shrill.

“Is that how she always is?” Sakura inquired.

“Always,” Esma confirmed. Sakura’s eyes fell on her. At the tight line her lips made.

“You once served her,” she guessed.  Esma’s grimace was answer enough. Azra put her hand on her sister’s arm. She smiled.

“That’s why we’re so grateful to serve you now, General,” Azra added. Esma’s gaze flickered over to her. Then she pursed her lips, nodding as she looked down.

Sakura folded her arms across her chest. She glanced again at the direction the concubine had gone. Then back at the twins.

“Hm,” Sakura said. She looped her arm through Temari’s, pulling her along. They walked slowly.

“What’re you thinking, Lady Sakura?” asked Temari.

“Do you know why people follow a woman like that?” Sakura wondered.

Temari arched an eyebrow. She stole one last glance at the distant back of Concubine Deba. Then looked to Sakura. “Fear, it looks like,” she guessed.

“Do you think that works better than a sense of duty?” Sakura mused.

“I don’t like that look in your eyes, Lady Sakura. It makes me nervous,” Temari sighed, already shaking her head.

That made Sakura smile. Pointer finger on her cheek, she tilted her head to one side.

“I wonder. Should we try a little experiment?”

After supper, Sakura left her quarters alone. Temari looked ready to protest until she spotted Mangetsu waiting by the door. She fixed him with a hard look. The mercenary returned it. Slowly, she nodded at him before she sank back down in her seat.

Mangetsu followed Sakura out of her quarters. They met up with Suigetsu further down the corridor.

Suigetsu pulled his cowl down and coughed. “I’m sick of all this sand,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. And then he turned his frown to Sakura. He coughed again before he spoke. “Also, I don’t get this. I thought you wanted to get to the consort- not this woman.”

Sakura ran her fingers through her hair. She adjusted her collar.

“It’s not about the concubine, Suigetsu. It’s about her servants,” she insisted.

Suigetsu stared at her.

She sighed, impatient. “Who oversees the day-to-day of any palace? Who has access to my food, clothing, and nearly everything else?” she listed. And then she paused, mouth puckering as she thought. “At home, the staff sees to my every need. In Whiteriver Keep… well… you’ve seen it.”

And then she smiled. "I want to see what happens if I can move the hearts of the servants. What would be the result?" she spelled out for him.

Suigetsu held her gaze for a long moment. He sighed.

“One of the girls just left the concubine’s room. Should be coming down that hall soon,” Suigetsu reported, jabbing his thumb in the right direction.

Sakura moved past him, her skirts gathered in one hand so she could move faster. The brothers hung back, watching her.

When Sakura reached the end of the hall, Suigetsu clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. Mangetsu looked over. He watched Suigetsu dig his pinky nail into his ear. He flicked the bits of sand away, bouncing them across the polished marble floors.

“Looks like the lady’s learning something,” Suigetsu commented.

“Good?” Mangetsu wondered, his eyes drifting back to follow Sakura.

“Yeah. Good,” Suigetsu confirmed.

Mangetsu said nothing else. Just slapped his younger brother on the back a few times before he followed after her.

Sakura lingered just before the corner. She barely looked up when the mercenaries joined her. She didn’t need to warn them to stay silent. If anything, they were quieter than she was.

According to Suigetsu, this passageway led to the larger residences within Prince Baki’s harem. This was a service hallway used by the staff. These sorts of places were nice because people’s true characters often emerged when they believed no one was watching them.

“You think you’re better than us because you serve Concubine Deba now?”

There was a sharp slap. And then the sound of something bouncing onto the floor. A few voices laughed, shrill and cutting.

“Little whore thinks she’s tough,” one of them mocked.

And then there was a muffled yelp before another voice hissed: “You’re nothing. Learn your place.”

Sakura’s mouth set in a grim line. She had heard enough.

There were three servant girls gathered around a fourth girl. The fourth sat huddled on the ground, both hands covering her head. The three girls snickered as they shoved her with their feet. But when they looked up, they saw Sakura round the corner, the two mercenaries shadowing her steps.

Sakura pretended to take the scene in.

The three servant girls frozen mid-step. The one girl on the floor, hair disheveled. A basket overturned. Linens scattered.

“How unsightly,” Sakura remarked, hand on her cheek. She locked eyes with one of the girls as she added, “Is this how things are done in this palace?”

One of the girls, clearly the leader of the group, stepped forward.

“Are you lost, dear guest? This area is typically for…”

Sakura’s eyes narrowed. The servant girl’s voice faltered. Her words trailed off.

“I don’t recall asking for you to speak. What a foolish child,” Sakura scoffed. She lowered her hand. “I have an idea of what’s happening here. Clean this up,” Sakura then snapped.

The three girls exchanged nervous looks before they scrambled to gather the basket and dump the garments inside. They mumbled apologies to Sakura, bowing their heads. Sakura fixed them with a stare for a long moment before she jerked her chin, dismissing them. They hurried off. As soon as they turned the corner, their footsteps quickened, echoing off the stone walls and floors.

As Sakura turned her attention to the remaining girl, her expression softened.

“Are you alright?” asked Sakura. She held her hand out. The remaining servant girl lifted her head, about to reach out. She jolted when she met Sakura’s eyes. She swiped her sleeve across her face before she put on a smile.

“I beg pardon, Your Grace. How can I serve you?” she said. She sniffled. There was a scratch mark on her cheek.

“Well, before you serve anyone, can you stand?” Sakura asked. She moved her hand a little closer.

The girl stared at the offered hand. Her gaze flickered to the basket. Then to her ankle.

“Thank you,” she whispered before she slipped her hand into Sakura’s. She winced a little when Sakura helped her stand.

“I apologize for this scene, Your Grace. It truly is disgraceful for us to have shown an honored guest such a sight,” the girl then said, bowing. Her hands clenched into the fabric of her skirt.

Sakura studied the girl’s shaking hands. Then her eyes drifted up to her face.

“What is your name?” Sakura asked.

The girl peered up at her through flaxen hair.

“It’s Meno, Your Grace,” she replied.

“Meno,” Sakura repeated. The girl nodded.

“Why don’t you sit with me for a while, Meno?”

While it was worded like a suggestion, it wasn’t. The girl must have been smart enough to know that. She hesitated for just a moment. And then she bowed again.

Meno trailed behind Sakura as they made her way to the other wing of the palace. Meno cast nervous looks at Mangetsu, who walked near Sakura, and Suigetsu, who trailed behind them.

“Your hair is a unique color,” Sakura commented. She kept her eyes focused ahead. Meno started a little. She touched her golden hair, gathered her hands in front of her again.

“…Yes, Your Grace,” she replied.

“Are you foreign-born?” Sakura queried.

“No, Your Grace. My father was a traveler,” answered Meno.

“Oh, so you’re mixed,” Sakura guessed.

Meno hung her head.

Sakura sniffed. “With the number of foreign-born concubines Prince Baki has, I would assume that a little mixing would be more than welcome here,” Sakura observed. She glanced back at Meno. “Or is that a privilege reserved just for the nobility?”

Meno’s eyes widened.

Soon, they arrived at Sakura’s quarters. Servants pulled the doors open at their approach.

“Azra. Esma,” Sakura called as they walked inside.

The twins came running. Azra helped her unwrap her shawl. Ezra presented a pair of soft slippers. But both girls froze when they noticed Meno lingering in the doorway.

Sakura followed their gaze. She gave an absent-minded wave of her hand.

“Prepare some refreshments for my guest,” ordered Sakura.

There was a slight pause as the twins exchanged a look. And then they both answered: “Yes, General.”

Several minutes later, they sat in the parlor. Sakura crossed one knee over the other, arm draped over the back of the sofa. She nodded as the twins set a tray down on the low table. Steam curled up from the teapot.

“Oh, Your Grace, I couldn’t accept this,” Meno sputtered as she looked at the tea. Her hands curled into the fabric of her apron.

Sakura stared at the tea too. The corners of her mouth turned down. “Indeed. You couldn’t,” she agreed. Her stare flitted over to the two attendants.

“The day is hot. You serve tea on such a hot day without ice?” Sakura scolded. The twins hung their heads as they listened. But then Azra raised her head.

“Your Grace, ice is only reserved for guests of honor-” she protested.

“Which I am. And this girl is my guest,” Sakura interrupted. She released a sharp breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. And then she flapped a hand at them.

“Go. Remake it,” Sakura ordered.

Azra and Esma exchanged a wary look. They bowed.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Azra said before they hurried out the door.

As Sakura refocused her gaze on Meno, she found the girl staring right back at her. Folding her arms across her chest, Sakura raised her eyebrows.

“The harassment. Has it been going on for long?” inquired Sakura.

Meno’s hand rose to touch her swollen cheek.

“No, Your Grace. I must have tripped,” the girl insisted.

“What strange floors they have here. They rise up to strike the faces of pretty, young girls,” Sakura mused.

When Meno just stared at her, Sakura offered her a smile.

“I’ve been in a fight or two. You don’t need to lie to me,” she added.

Meno flushed.

By the time Azra and Esma returned with cool drinks, Meno was in tears as she divulged her life story. She sobbed into the handkerchief she pulled from her pocket as she recounted the bullying. There was a strict hierarchy among the staff. Those that served the higher ranking concubines were above the lesser ones. And the older servants could make life hell for the younger, weaker ones.

“But you serve a high-ranking woman. You can’t be so awful at your job?” wondered Sakura.

Meno shook her head. She dabbed her cheeks with the sopping handkerchief. Temari moved from the window. Kankuro held out his own handkerchief as she walked past. Temari grabbed it and sat beside the girl. She gave her the clean handkerchief and patted her on the back. Meno gave her a tremulous smile before fresh tears leaked out of her eyes.

“It matters little, Your Grace. They hate me so much, but I try so hard. I just don’t understand,” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands.

“This can’t be right,” Sakura sighed, hand on her cheek again. “Who is in charge of all the servants? There has to be some sort of administrator.”

At this, Meno hesitated. She looked to Sakura. Then her gaze drifted to the twin girls standing behind Sakura. Sakura turned in her seat to glance at them too. The girls bowed.

“Are you concerned that someone in this room will report you, Meno?” Sakura demanded, facing forward again.

Meno rubbed her eyes. She looked down at her knees.

Sakura’s eyes narrowed. She relaxed her arms.

“Rest assured, Meno, should anyone take issue with what you say here today… I will take responsibility,” she declared. And then she tossed another glance over her shoulder. “You have my word,” Sakura then added.

Meno sniffled. Temari patted her back again.

Twisting the handkerchief between her hands, Meno bit her lower lip. “Oh…. um…. well, Consort Hoki is, Your Grace,” she finally confessed.

Sakura touched her pointer finger to her cheek. Her thumb pressed against her chin. She tilted her head to one side as she thought.

“Unfortunately, I have yet to meet Consort Hoki myself. I wonder what her thoughts on this sort of working environment are,” she sighed. Her eyes darted up when she noticed Mangetsu cross his arms. He met her gaze, gave a slight nod. She pretended not to have seen it. Smiling, she turned her attention to Meno.

“No matter. I’m certain Consort Hoki has worries of her own,” she added.

Sakura took a deep breath before she declared: “I like you, Meno. Why don’t you come work for me?”

Meno’s eyes widened. Her hands tightened around the handkerchiefs.

“Truly, Your Grace? Can I?” she blurted out. Her face turned red as she realized what she had said. She sunk back in her seat, looking down at her feet.

Sakura’s expression warmed. “You seem like you have a good head on your shoulders. I shall speak with Prince Baki about adding you to my service,” Sakura replied. When she glanced back, Azra and Esma’s faces revealed nothing. Sakura gestured to the twins. “I’ve been working poor Azra and Esma to the bone lately. I’m certain it will be a relief to them as well.”

They finished their tea, Meno still sniffling. Sakura asked her a few more questions about her life, which Meno was more than happy to answer. By the time their cups and plates were empty, Meno’s face was swollen, but significantly more cheerful. Azra and Esma collected the tableware and left the room.

As she got to her feet, Meno bowed and thanked Sakura over and over again.

“Make sure Meno returns to her quarters safely. And pass this message along to the Prince,” Sakura instructed, pressing a note into Mangetsu’s hand. He nodded. Mangetsu then held the door open for Meno.

Sakura waved at the girl, smiling as she watched her go. But as soon as Meno turned the corner, Sakura lowered her hand. She glanced over her shoulder.

“Are you sure about this?” she whispered.

Suigetsu braced his forearm on the doorway. He craned his neck to peer past her before he spoke.

“The twins reacted when you talked about Consort Hoki. They’re likely her spies,” he replied, keeping his voice just as low. And then he stared at Sakura. “But you already knew that. I don’t know why you’re asking me.”

Sakura raised her eyebrows. “I suspected. That’s different,” she corrected.

“So why bring that girl? It’ll raise more suspicion to replace them, M’Lady,” warned Suigetsu. He peered up and down the hall again. His gaze fell to Sakura again when he felt her grab the sleeve of his shirt.

She smiled. “My Aunt has always loved chess. And she taught me to love it too. But don’t you think it’s more fun when the pieces are alive?” she murmured before she released his sleeve. She stepped back into her quarters. Suigetsu stared after her. And then he broke into a grin.

“I knew it would be fun to stick with you, M’Lady,” he chuckled as he followed after her.

Later that evening, Sakura lay on her back.

Everyone else had gone to bed. Temari was in the room next to her’s. Gaara and Kankuro shared another one further down the hall. Gaara still had nightmares, and Kankuro liked to be there just in case.

Suigetsu had gone to bed too. Mangetsu would wake him halfway through the night to switch shifts. But for now, he prowled around the wing. There were guards on duty, but neither of the brothers trusted them. Every once in a while, his shadow slid under the door as he walked past. At first, his movements had jolted her awake. She wasn’t used to someone keeping such close watch. But after a few months, she was starting to find their presence comforting. Sometimes she even slept through the entire night undisturbed.

But this night, Sakura wasn’t sleeping. Instead, she was staring up at the ceiling. There were thousands of stars painted in gold, mimicking the patterns of the heavens outside.

With what almost felt like a stab of guilt, she suddenly recalled a face. Not as if she had ever forgotten him. But he drifted to the front of her mind.

The plan had been to make a connection with Sasuke. The Mountain Kingdom was a powerful ally to have. With the political instability that had weakened the Forest Kingdom, its neighbors seemed unsure of how to approach them. In times of crises, it was important to know how other countries would react. Would they stand back and watch? Would they seize a moment of weakness to attack?

She had made it her mission to ingratiate herself with Sasuke. It had been easier than expected. Because under that pomposity, which was all a facade anyway, he was rather intelligent and even funny.

Prince Itachi of the Mountain Kingdom was an unexpected boon.

She saw his wrist. The beautiful jut of his bone. The shape of his fingers as they curled around the doorknob. She liked watching those hands. Elegant in their own way. They were smooth and soft, unlike hers. And she knew because she could remember the way it felt against hers as they sat in the shade of a pergola.

Sakura closed her eyes.

Her whole life, she had learned to calculate each relationship. What did they have to offer? What would they ask for in return?

Even her friendships were all weighed this way. Ino, one of her oldest friends, had gone through this evaluation as well. And Sakura was confident that Ino had done the same to her. That didn’t change the fact that she liked Ino- preferred her company to that of most people she knew.

Ally. Eyes and ears. Bargaining chip. Scapegoat.

They all stacked so neatly. Like pieces she could line up on her game board.

But what was Prince Itachi of the Mountain Kingdom?

A prince with no support from his subjects. One whose own stepmother crippled with poison. Whose father remained either oblivious or uncaring. She already had the support of his brother, who had the best bid for the throne.

What purpose did he serve then?

“You look anxious. Are you alright?”

What did he have to offer?

“I wish I knew how to help.”

What would he ask for in return?

“You’ve always looked like a giant to me.”

She thought of Consort Hoki. Today’s events had made it clear to Sakura that she was a consort in name. But she had little influence over the workings of the harem. From a good family. But rendered powerless because not all the right pieces had fallen into place.

She dreaded falling victim to a similar fate. It was more important now than ever that she surround herself with people of worth. Those that would move when she could not. Those that she could rely on to redirect blame should things go wrong.

As all these questions swirled together in her head, she remembered the short letter he had sent months ago. Black ink. Perfect penmanship.

I miss you terribly today. All is well. And yet nothing is well without you here.

The following morning, Sakura set her teacup down.

She graced her companion with a smile.

“Prince Baki, thank you for making the time to see me,” Sakura greeted him.

++++

< Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 >

#amaryllis #fanfiction #itasaku #courtly intrigue! au

[bestworstcase]

Hi! Just wondering, do you have any theories about what happened to all of Zhan Tiri’s followers who were trapped in the Demanitus Chamber? (I’m annoyed they didn’t show up in the finale to be honest, they’d have been a great army. What do you think about that?)

you and me both, anon -_- i spent most of s3 speculating wildly about how the disciples would come into play and after CR made a point of destroying the device altogether i was positive disciples would come up and then that… didn’t happen, despite multiple scenes with zhan tiri fucking around in the chamber. freed disciples >>> brainwashed brotherhood as minibosses for team corona. But Alas.

as far as theories go well. in canon i like to think they escaped and are skulking around getting up to evil nonsense either on zhan tiri’s behalf or solo, but *yeets canon out the window* we’re in bitter snow land now :]

the scions are zhan tiri’s most formidable, and favored, disciples. after he banished zhan tiri, demanitus hunted them down and imprisoned many of them in vaults around the continent. by the time of his “death” in 31 PE, only scion remained free: calanthe gothel.

of the remaining scions, six are trapped in demanitus’s labyrinthine library in tarazed, one was imprisoned in his tower underneath azoth but was released in 1648 PE (25 years prior to benighted), and three were sealed in the chamber in corona. [meaning, yes, there are only eleven scions in the whole world. it is the highest of high honors and zhan tiri is very choosy about offering it.]

so… hm. trying to organize this in the most coherent way. let’s start with the Big Three as far as the story of bitter snow is concerned: the traitorous pupils of lord demanitus.

tromus matthiaos was born to a large, impoverished family on the western steppes of volkan. his parents being unable to care for him, they offered him up as an apprentice to a sorcerer, varril alexandros, who passed through their village when matthiaos was four years old. alexandros was a brilliant man but exceptionally cruel man, so, when matthiaos was twelve, he set fire to the house in the middle of the night and fled. demanitus found him wandering in the wilderness not long after, half dead from dehydration and exposure, and took matthiaos under his wing.

life in demanitus’s care was much better, and over the next seven years matthiaos grew devoted to demanitus to the point of considering the man his father. around this time, the pair traveled to pchela, a remote hamlet nestled in the salt marshes of northeastern zamora, to study the spirits of the marshes. there, they encountered sugracha il pchela, the fifteen-year-old daughter of the marsh-witch ennuricha. her mother flatly refused to share her knowledge with demanitus, but sugracha craved more than pchela had to offer, so, she stole ennuricha’s grimoire and traded it to demanitus in exchange for his tutelage.

about four years passed. the trio settled in antares for a time to study the massive black rocks upon which the ancient city-state was built, and that is where calanthe gothel found them. she was the daughter of a destitute high house of aberdinon; her father paid for her education with ruinous loans and, once she reached adulthood, made it clear he expected her to pay those loans back by using her skill in potionry to secure a wealthy husband. calanthe poisoned him instead, pawned what few heirlooms the family still owned, and used that money to flee north to antares. there, she wheedled her way into demanitus’s good graces. he took her on as a pupil; she clashed often with him and matthiaos, but grew very close to sugracha.

soon after, demanitus relocated them to his ancestral home in corona, at the top of mt. ghisa. at this time, zhan tiri was bound in the caverns beneath mt. ghisa, but the anchor demanitus had used to bind her had begun to wear thin. her influence bled into the surrounding mountains, and one by one, demanitus’s three pupils gravitated toward her—first sugracha, then matthiaos, and finally calanthe. less than a year after they came to mt. ghisa, they performed a ritual to release zhan tiri and took her side in the bitter, decade-long war between zhan tiri and demanitus.

zhan tiri offered scionhood to all three of them in part as a gesture of gratitude, and in part because she grew genuinely very fond of them in the years that followed her release. matthiaos and sugracha took to it eagerly, but calanthe… changed her mind, after her initial acceptance. (basically she didn’t pay enough attention upfront and balked when reality set in.) she double-crossed zhan tiri and returned to demanitus, presenting herself as an innocent victim and passing him information on zhan tiri, her cults, and her scions. this information was the final piece demanitus needed to banish zhan tiri from the world altogether, and proved useful in hunting down the scions as well. calanthe dipped as soon as zhan tiri was banished, used what she learned from zhan tiri + the powers granted to her by incomplete scionhood to claim the sundrop for herself, using it to keep herself alive and stave off the nasty consequences of her refusal to complete the scion process.

matthiaos was the first scion demanitus captured, as demanitus considered matthiaos his greatest failure and felt a personal responsibility to deal with him. he was sealed in a vault at the base of the tower in azoth, which demanitus then sunk and filled with a host of dangerous traps and assorted guardians. demanitus filled the labyrinth next; these six scions aren’t… super important in the story i’ll just list their names, from youngest to oldest:

1. amaranta morcant 2. alizarin marcach 3. hyacinthe de malveisin 4. idris carthamine 5. źatīr thēshala 6. tanith

the final three scions—the ones imprisoned in the chamber in corona—were the last demanitus captured. sugracha was one of them; the other two were sorchā and dione, the two eldest scions.

dione was the first of zhan tiri’s scions, and she became a scion a few years before zhan tiri named herself, way back in the final decades of the lost era. during this period, zhan tiri was known as gat as’la and bore very little resemblance to her present-day self; she was a primordial devourer with a lot of power and a vague but covetous interest in the profane realm. dione meanwhile was a… fairly ordinary woman whose village was massacred by the advancing armies of the then-rapidly-expanding abralian empire in what is now western citrifola; dione fled, took shelter in the great tree, encountered a manifestation of gat as’la, and survived which led to a long and brutal game of cat-and-mouse, which in turn resulted in a growing mutual fascination. dione founded a cult, gat as’la got attached, bargains were made, and little while after that gat as’la named herself zhan tiri and…became…zhan tiri.

several thousand years passed, the abralian empire crumbled, zhan tiri’s interest in the profane realm and humanity in particular grew while also becoming vaguely less predatory in nature.

annnnd then she met sorchā.

the nation of saporia didn’t exist at this point; instead there was this loose alliance between a handful of smaller, independent territories, among them the city-state of charcāthēn. sorchā was a poet and philosopher of little renown, who lived in charcāthēn and had a profound interest in magic but also a kind of listless dissatisfaction with the contemporary understanding thereof. she encountered zhan tiri more or less by happenstance while wandering the countryside for inspiration and that. changed everything. because sorchā at the time was in the midst of this sort of anguished youth coming of age and zhan tiri was on the cusp of an existential crisis and the collision of those two things produced the philosophy that would become the bedrock of saporian culture for thousands of years to come.

sorchā codified the distinction between the sublime and profane realms. she articulated the concept of choimghē, which—i’ll just quote what i said the last time: it’s a mingling of the profane and sublime; the word itself literally means “cusp” or “threshold,” and the idea is there is an irreconcilable tension between the profane and the sublime; both exist in a state of perpetual fascination/repulsion; to achieve choimghē is to achieve balance between the two, resolving this tension into peaceful coexistence. this principle is interwoven through almost every facet of saporian culture; for example, their beliefs about death and the afterlife.

she founded the saporian cult of zhan tiri, and played a significant role in codifying the framework of the divine ternary, the formation of saporia as a single sovereign nation, and the governmental structure of the tháomazhatēm in later centuries. she also created the sorchān calendar, which has been widely adopted across the continent.

her importance in saporian history and culture really can’t be overstated, and she had an equally huge impact on zhan tiri herself—while sorchā wrote about choimghē, zhan tiri rooted herself into the profane realm, and that philosophy + that decision were thoroughly intertwined. sorchā is the reason zhan tiri is the way she is now and the reason zhan tiri so strongly considers saporians her people.

anyway.

dione, sorchā, and sugracha are kind of the favorites of the favorites. zhan tiri does genuinely, truly love and trust all of her scions but she has an extra soft spot for these three and that is mostly down to them all having a similar mixture of ambition + competence + cleverness + creativity + passion + grit + derangement that zhan tiri enjoys particularly.

#bitter snow #zhan tiri #sorry for taking like a week to answer this lmbmsdfjsdjh #i uh #i kept going off on tangents #and then cutting out the tangents #being concise is hard #Anonymous

[weewxtch]

interlude. [16.7.79]

“Ah, here we are. Took you long enough. I was starting to think you were butchering the thing back there.” Vernon says. It’s a date, but at the moment he only has eyes for the beefy steak the waiter sets down in front of him. He tears his eyes away long enough to pick up his glass and chuckle into his wine at his own joke.

Petunia has always liked that about him, the way he commands a room. He refuses to be pushed around or forgotten, and he isn’t afraid to take people to task. The waiter smiles obligingly, and after asking if they need anything else, leaves them to their meal. 

She picks up her knife and begins to cut up her chicken into tiny pieces, stopping only when she notices that Vernon cuts his steak one bite at a time. She flushes and quickly sticks the five small pieces she had already diced up into her mouth before they can be noticed. She’s become better at hiding the gap between them in the rungs of the social ladder they both cling to, but she still occasionally slips up and it’s embarrassing each time. 

She’s furiously chewing so that they can continue their conversation when Vernon asks, or rather demands, “Tell me about your family.” 

It’s the worst possible question.

Petunia swallows thickly, wincing in discomfort as her food goes down half-chewed. One of the benefits of dating a man who so often talks about himself is that she rarely has to contribute. Instead, she slots herself into whatever space is available in the conversation. It’s a skill she previously saw as a curse after years of doing it at home, but she sees now it was just practice. You can learn a lot by listening, watching. The only problem with being adept at observation is that your eyes are open enough to notice the world’s perpetual faults. 

“There’s not much to say, really,” she demurs. At first, she thinks Vernon is dissatisfied with the answer, lip curling in a snarl, until she realizes he’s just working a bit of fat out of his teeth. 

He mutters something about “roadkill disguised as premium cuts” and she relaxes until– “Your parents aren’t dead, are they? What do they do?”

This time, Petunia is glad to take another bite. It buys her a few extra seconds and makes her look thoughtful, when really she’s frantically trying to summon an answer. He doesn’t care about her parents’ profession, what he’s actually curious about is how much money they make. Any honest answer will elicit an implied response she’s become accustomed to– you’re not enough. 

“Well, my mum looked after us at home,” she says slowly, waiting for Vernon’s nod of approval. She gets it, as she expected she would. The pair of them share a similar worldview, the woman in this home is a part of that. “And my dad works in the steel industry.” 

Vernon slaps a hand on the table, rattling their dishes to the irritation of the patrons sitting near them. “A self-made man!” He exclaims with enthusiasm, clearly feeling that he’s found a compatriot. The truth is, however, that Wilfred Evans is the backbone of the steel industry as a steel mill foreman, rather that the profiteer, and Vernon’s father owns a majority share in Grunnings. Vernon is still going on while she frets over the half-truth. “That’s rare these days. Layabouts on every corner, I tell you. Always complaining about insufficient government ‘assistance’. Never mind that those of us with real jobs are subsidizing their perpetual vacation from a hard day’s work.” 

She hums in agreement around her fork, glad for the momentary distraction. As a secretary she knows plenty about laziness. Her days are spent calling employees to pull together information they should have already given her and answering questions that people could have answered themselves. What the job lacks in status it makes up for in comfort and intel. Her hands won’t be permanently chaffed by the time she’s thirty and the gossip is relentless. Vernon will be paying for dinner, but she’s the reason they’re dining out in the first place, celebrating his promotion. If she hadn’t told him about Mr. Jeffries’ affair, information she had filed away in her brain while typing meeting minutes for a group of senior executives, he never would have been able to leverage the secret in exchange for a shiny new desk nameplate. Petunia has learned that there’s power not only in observation, but also in being overlooked. 

Vernon’s voice pulls her away from dwelling in smug satisfaction. “You said us,” he grunts. He’s rarely this attentive, she wishes he would stop. “Your mother popped out more than one then?” 

For thirty-five days up until this moment, she’s had the opportunity to be her own person, unblighted. She tucked thoughts of Lily away and allowed herself to be just Petunia. It hasn’t been entirely blissful, her guilt grows heavier along with her dresser drawer as she fills it with Lily’s unopened letters. But then she shuts the drawer and it’s gone– out of sight, out of mind and safe from discovery. Instead of being an all-consuming problem that contaminates everything she’s managed to build for herself, it’s quarantined. 

She tells herself that she isn’t doing anything wrong. If she thought Lily would actually listen, Petunia silently insists, she would talk to her sister. But everything is always about her and Petunia is so tired of it. She’s tired of Lily getting to run around and live her dream life without a second thought about how it affects other people. She’s tried of making excuses, tired of the different lies she’s used over years. Lily won scholarship to a boarding school, she’s away staying with family, she’s studying to be a doctor, a normal doctor. It’s always a favorable tall tale that Petunia has to spin and watch as interest in her fades away while she does it.  

In her better moments, she knows that she doesn’t want Lily to be loved less, she just wants to be loved more. 

She tries to summon that more benevolent spirt as she carefully says, “I have a sister.” She’s calculating how to best respond, “Lily.”

Vernon’s nose wrinkles in dislike. “Bit bohemian, isn’t it? Naming people after flowers.” 

The subtext in Vernon’s tone is clear. Petunia remembers watching Olivia Hussey beg Leonard Whiting to renounce his name in exchange for a future together. She thought it was melodramatic, until she was crying watching Olivia thrust a dagger into her heart as a desperate, final attempt to seize the fate she wanted.  

Petunia picks up the dagger.

She tells a story, same as she has dozens of times before when forced to explain away her sibling. The difference this time, however, is the protagonist. The role has been recast. In this fiction there are two sisters, the older, virtuous, the younger, listless. Lily is an innocent until she’s not, corrupted by a terrible boyfriend and robbed of good sense and her potential. Petunia tries to rescue her fallen sister, but there are limits to positive influence. “It’s impossible to say when she’ll pop up.” It’s the perfect alibi, an eternal excuse for why they can’t meet. Petunia has to remind herself to keep her thin lips forced into a frown, she’s so thrilled with her own cunning.  “She gets by, but we never know what she’s up to. Too much of a dreamer, that one.” 

Vernon nods sagely, as if he’s heard the tragic tale a thousand times. To him, a dreamer is one of the worst things a person could be, right behind being a unionist. “Women who run-off with their boyfriends before marriage are either sluts or fortune-hunters my mother would always say. Wisest woman I’ve ever met. You might be the fairer sex, but you’re not always the smartest.” He taps a thick finger at his temple. “Shame about your sister, a true shame. You’re a practical woman of honesty, Petunia. Guess we know who got all the integrity in the family, eh?” 

Petunia is too busy basking in relief and praise to notice the hole in her heart. 

#*drabble #*lily&petunia #vernon dursley cw #4 beth ❤️

[staticscreenwriting]

Casual moths - chapter six

A/N: Would you look at, I remembered I hae other WIPs that don’t feature my boy Billy. If anyone is still reading this story, sorry it took me over 6 months to update. I just wasn’t too inspired. I hope this part is enjoyable. Let me know what you think :)

Find the other parts on my masterlist here.

If you liked this part and wanna help me out, please consider a reblog. Thank you.

There’s implied smut in this. It’s there but it’s not too graphic. Please do not interact if you’re under 18 though. Thanks.

Chapter six - broken windows & burgers

A thick, heavy heat meets Angel as he steps outside of the clubhouse and into the Santo Padre morning. It’s a sticky kind of heat and it’s not even 10, he can only imagine how exhausting work is gonna be today as it will only get hotter as the day progresses. 

There’s a sheet of cling foil wrapped around his right arm where fresh lines of ink make up a new piece of art on his skin. It’s more dainty than any of the other tattoos he has. He thinks it might be one of his favorites. 

Something about Callie, he has realised a while ago, brings out a side of him he doesn’t know. One he never truly considered was even there. A softer side, a more vulnerable side. A side that finds bravery in softness. Power in vulnerability. 

The buzzing of his phone shakes him out of his daydream and pulls him back into reality. He can’t help the smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he reads the name illuminated on the screen. Is this that feeling all the movies and songs always talk about ? The one that never really made it through the walls he worked so hard to build up around him ? Is this it ? 

Because if it is, he decides, it’s not so bad.

“ Good morning, mi estrella. How are you doin’ ? “ 

There’s nothing for a second. No answer. No noise. Nothing. Just quiet. And it’s not a good one. He can tell. He can tell immediately. Like some kind of fucking sixth sense or something. 

Then she speaks up. And it only gets worse from there.

“ Angel “ she sniffs down the phone. Her voice is watery, coarse, rough. She’s been crying. Not crying — sobbing.

“ Angel can you come to the shop please ? “ 

“ Are you okay ? “ It’s all that matters to him in that moment. To know she’s okay. It’s like his own well being depends on hers. How, he wonders, can he ever be okay if she isn’t. 

That dependence is quite scary in itself, but he will deal with that later. When he’s alone in his bed and the dark allows him to drown in his fears.

“ I — they trashed my shop “ 

“ I’ll deal with it, baby. But are you okay ? “ 

“ Yeah. “ It’s not convincing but he assumes that okay isn’t really the best way to describe her current state. But at least he knows she’s not hurt. Not physically at least.

“ Are you alone ? They still in the shop ? “ 

“ I’m alone now. No one’s here anymore. Can you come ? “ 

“ Obviously ! Go get yourself a coffe or something to calm down. I’ll be there in a minute. “ 

“ I can’t, I need to tidy up in here. I need to fix things. I need to — “ 

“ Callie ! You need to calm down. We’ll deal with it when I’m there, okay ? “ 

She sighs, take a moment, sighs again. Then answers.

“ Okay. “ 

“ And baby ? “ 

“ Yeah ? “ 

“ Everything’s gonna be alright. I promise. “

Angel Reyes is not a person to make promises. He knows he ain’t one to keep them anyway so he usually avoids them at all cost. Not with her though. Because he knows it’s as much a promise to her as it is to him. A promise to be better. Do better. Make things right.

A promise to be the person she deserved. A person that’s worthy of her love.

A promise that things are gonna be alright, for the both of them. Together.

“ Jesus fucking Christ. “ 

Shards of broken glass crack under his boots as Angel steps through the door of the shop, Callie following close behind, eyes still overcast with tears just waiting to be shed.

When she told him it was bad, he imagined it quite like this. Doesn’t mean it’s not still shocking to properly see it. 

The windows are gone, all smashed up and broken, nothing but tiny pieces of glass now covering the floor of the shop. Flowers that used to be stacked up in vases all alone the walls, are scattered all over, heads ripped off, stomped on, dead.

Everything is destroyed. A livelihood in danger. And for what ? 

The cash register is untouched. Nothing is missing. Not even a single fucking cent. 

Angel’s eyes wander around the room, taking it all in. The more he looks at the damage, the more angry he gets. The more rage bubbles up inside of him. 

“ That’s not the worst “ a timid voice speaks up from beside him. Callie’s fingers softly tug on his hand, intertwining with his. He places a gentle kiss on her head, savouring the smell of her daisy scented shampoo that seems to linger on her at all times.

“ What’s the worst then ? “ 

She doesn’t reply, just pulls him towards the back where the fridge is and another work bench. There’s a periwinkle blue wall that Callie always pins her ideas to for bouquets or arrangement. At least that’s the color it used to be. 

Angel’s hand grips hers tighter as he steps into the room and his eyes fall onto the big bold letters smeared onto the wall. It’s thick black paint, running and dripping, probably written in a hurry. 

“ Found you. “ 

That’s all it says. Two words. They’re enough to make him feel like someone has dumped a bucket up ice water over him though. It’s a thread. A warning. He’s used to dealing with these kinds of things when he’s the one they’re directed to. But this is not about him. Not in the slightest. This is all about her. All for her. And that’s the hardest part about it.

Angel has very little regard for his own life and though he faults his father for this to a certain extend, he knows it’s an amalgamation of all things that ever went wrong in his life. From his crippling sense of inadequacy compared to his brother, to losing his mother, to finding his place in a motorcycle club that feels like it’s gonna run off it’s tracks any time soon. 

It’s all a mess and it’s all culminating in the fact that he doesn’t so much fear for his own life, even in the face of great danger. He’s reckless. If things were to happen to him, well so be it. 

But things have changed a little recently. He could lie, say it was a sudden change of heart. The reality is though, that he has seen a glimpse of what life can be. Callie has lit a spark. One that wants to live. That wants to grow and change and become better. One that wants to experience a future. A good one. A happy one. One with her and her daughter. 

Realizing someone is threatening that. Threatening her, it makes him boil over with rage. This is his girl. Loving and warm and innocent and happy. She doesn’t deserve this. 

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe this one time he isn’t the villain of the story. Maybe this one time he can be the hero. Is meant to be the hero. 

“ You think that asshole did it ? “ 

“ Travis ? For sure. He’s that kind of deranged. “ 

“ You know I can’t let you outta my sight anytime soon, right ? “ 

“ Maybe I don’t want you to. “ 

He realises then, just how scared she really is. She’s not putting up a fight. Not telling him how ridiculous he’s being. How she can handle this herself.

Knowing she’s terrified, makes him even more angry. This dude needs to be dealt with. And fast.

“ Where’s the kid ? “ 

“ She’s with my mom, she’s safe. “ 

“ Good. D’you wanna come to my place ? I’ll have the prospect come around and clean this up. We’ll figure this out together, okay ? “ 

“ Shouldn’t I call the police ? “ 

“ Let me handle this baby. Do you trust me ? “ 

He doesn’t realise how nerve wrecking and fundamental that question is until it leaves his lips. He’s not used to people trusting him and really, he can’t fault anyone for it. He’s a big grumpy guy with tattoos up and down his arms who has a perpetual frown etched on his face and is part of a motorcycle club. He’s not the poster-child for trustworthy.

And yet, she looks at him, places a soft kiss on his lips and nods. “ Yeah. Yeah I do. “ 

He thinks his heart has never felt so light in the face of danger. 

There’s a funny feeling in his stomach when Angel unlocks the door to his house and lets Callie walk inside. She doesn’t belong here. In his sad little house with the dark furniture and the bare walls.

She’s all smiles and flowers and joy and he is — well none of that.

Angel never felt like he had to impress anyone, much less with his house. Though having her here makes him wish he’d put in some effort when he moved in. To make it feel like a home instead of 4 walls and a roof.

“ Sorry it’s a mess in here. Didn’t expect company to be honest. “ 

“ Oh no, don’t worry. I like it. “ 

He turns towards her with his eyebrow raised. He has eyes, he can see what the place looks like. Though it’s not dirty, it sure is untidy. There’s no need fo her to tease him or lie to spare his feelings.

Though when he looks at her, there’s no hint of teasing on her face. No lies. No deceit. 

She’s being true and honest with him and that is another shot straight to his heart. A good one. One that makes him want to do better.

“ You being serious ? What could you possibly like ? “ 

“ It’s very you ! It feels like you and it looks like you and smells like you. “ 

“ What sweaty and dirty ? “ 

“ Would I kiss a man who is sweaty and dirty ? “ She says and wraps her arms around his neck. 

Angel’s hands find their place on her waist, sitting there as if this is where they’ve always belonged. Her curves are soft and smooth and god, does he wants to touch all of them. Every inch of her body, every patch of skin. He wants to touch it, feel it, taste it. 

There’s a carnal desire in him to have her like he’s never felt before. Sure there’s been girls he really wanted to fuck, before. It’s different with her tough. He feels it all over not just between his legs. It starts in the tips of his fingers, moves across his arms, his chest, his heart. It’s everywhere. All consuming. 

Her lips fall onto his, taste him, feel him. Her tongue follows soon after. Hot and wet and soft. There’s something else in her kiss. A passion to match his. A desire to match his. 

It’s like someone’s flipped a switch and the tension of earlier, filled with fear and anxiety, it’s gone. There’s another kind of tension now. Raw and sexual and physical.

Hands start roaming. She’s all gentle and delicate and sweet. But there’s a fire crackling underneath. Sparks flying just waiting to ignite something bigger. It’s bubbling underneath the surface. Brewing. Waiting.

And then when his lips softly make their way down her neck. It breaks free.

Callie lets out a moan of pleasure. It’s quiet and he almost misses it. But he doesn’t. He just catches it. 

Lips on her neck, hands palming her ass, he feels a heat rising. Sensual, lustful, hot. So hot. It’s burning and he doesn't want it to stop. Not now. Not ever.

Buttons hit the floor as she rips open his shirt. “ I’m so sorry “ she laughs though her words are swallowed by his lips as he catches her in another breathtaking kiss.

“ Shut up, that’s the sexiest shit anyone has ever done. “ 

Angel grabs her by the thighs, lifts her up in his arms. This is the most precious cargo and she deserves to be worshiped. 

“ Do you want this ? “ he asks, eyes locked on hers. He needs to hear it. Needs a yes. For her sake and for his. He wouldn’t survive uncertainty. He can’t be a mistake to her.

For once in his life, he wants to be a conscious decision. A choice.

“ Yes. Yeah I fucking do. “ 

And that about kills him.

Angel maneuvers them towards his tiny bedroom. The gray sheets and the dark curtains make it looks so dull and sad. He can’t wait to see her in here. Fuck her in here. To put a little ray of sun into this dark dark place.

He places her down softly and the way here hair falls around her head, it makes her looks like an Angel. Halo and everything. And she’s smiling. She’s happy. She wants him. Him. Of all people.

Then she take off her shirt and unclasped her bra and he is over and done. Like this is fucking heaven. It has to be.

He needs a moment just to take her in. All her radiant glory. All her beauty. Raw and unfiltered and unobscured. Just her. 

He’s in love with this woman. 

It’s an epiphany that is both monumental and casual as can be. It’s a fundamental truth that is now part of him the way his tattoos are, the way his mother’s death is, the way his absolute inadequacy is. 

He is Angel Reyes and he is in love with this woman.

“ Baby you are a goddess.” 

And he means it. Every word of it.

She blushes, looks away, then back at him. He softly takes his face in between her hands, strokes his cheek. 

“ I uh — It’s been a while. Just thought you should know. “ 

“ But you want this ? “ 

“ So much. I want you, Angel. “ 

He doesn’t answer, not verbally at least. He answers with kisses. To her lips, her neck. Up and down her chest.

He answers with his tongue and it circles her nipples, worshipping her in the most delicious of ways. She’s squirming, letting out little sighs of pleasure. God this girl is gonna be the death of him.

In the matter of minutes, they both slip out of their pants and underwear. Being completely naked with her feels different than it ever felt. There’s no fireworks or butterflies or any of that Hollywood movie, high school love story, bullshit. 

It’s raw and vulnerable and a little bit scare. Because this woman doesn’t just see his body. He gets to show her all of him. Even the things he doesn’t want to see himself. He is naked in all the ways a person can be naked. And he relished in it. Because sometimes, he thinks, facing your fears might just be worth it.

Callie wraps her leg around his waist. Urging him closer. Asking him to move. 

So he does. And it feels like it always does, warm and wet and — just so good.

But there’s something completely different about all of this. Like some rosy tint rests over all of it. Like they’re caught in a bubble where bad things don’t exist for the time being. Just them.

His hands roam her body, hers grab his shoulders, fingernails running down his back with every move, every thrust. Moans echo around the room, filling it with bliss. With comfort. She’s moving against him in a steady, melodic rhythm, like waves crashing against the shore.

Maybe, he thinks, this can be home. Not the walls or the roof or the rooms. But her. 

Callie is perched on a chair in the dining room, watching Angel scurry around the kitchen. The smell of bacon fills the air as her shirtless boyfriend prepares their lunch.

Wait, boyfriend ? Is he ? It feels like it. Like a boyfriend girlfriend situation. But they haven’t really talked about it. So is it fair to call him that in her head ?

“ I can hear you thinking from all the way over here. What’s up, baby ? You regretting this ? “ 

She’s in one of his plaid shirts, sipping from a freshly brewed cup of coffee, wallowing in post orgasmic bliss while he’s preparing a bacon and cheese burger for her. How could she ever regret any of this ? 

Though his words sound joking, she knows he is anything but. There’s an edge in there. One that lets her know he’s being serious beneath the teasing.

“ Never. I don’t regret a single second with you, Angel Reyes. “ 

And now it’s his turn to blush.

“ Just wish you’d put on a shirt when cooking. You’re gonna burn yourself, I can see it now. “ 

“ Ah, just gonna make my front match my back. “ he points out, motioning to his shoulder blades painted lovely shades of pink, lines of scratches up and down them. 

“ Sorry about that. “ 

“ Yeah don’t apologize for it. Just means I did a good job. “ 

“ Oh you did. “ 

They smirk at each other and for a second she wants to drag him back to bed. Or do it right here. On the kitchen table. 

Though her stomach rumbling pulls them out of their loving haze. 

“ Someone’s hungry. “ Angel says, then moves back towards the stove. He delicately stacks the burger, puts so much effort into it. She thinks it’s cute. To see how much he cares about such trivial, unimportant things just because he wants to make her feel welcome and happy and comfortable. Just because it’s her. She likes that he makes an effort. Even if it’s just a fucking burger.

“ Bon appetit. It’s the special Angel burger. “ Angel annouces and places a plate in front of her.

“ Oh is it ? What makes it special ? “

“ Well, I made it and my name is Angel. “

“ Is it made with extra love ? “ she asks, and Angel takes her hand in his, kisses her knuckles and nods. “ With all the love in the world, baby. “ 

Callie’s eyes trail down his arms, widen a little as they stop on one particular spot.

“ That’s new. “ 

“ Huh ? “ he follows her eyes. Stops at the little delicate piece of art now permanently edged into his skin. “ Oh yeah. Got it last night. “ 

“ That’s the ursa major “ 

“ Mmhh. “ 

“ That’s kinda my name. “ 

“ Aaah nah. “ 

“ Angel. You got a tattoo for me ? “ 

“ Maybe I really like stars n shit. “ 

“ Do you ? “

“ Or maybe I just really like you. So what ? “ 

It’s right here, right now. Sitting on his kitchen chair in his shirt, looking at his tattoo and eating the food he made for her. Right here and now that she notices how important this man has become to her.

How hard she’s falling for him. 

How irrevocably and undeniably in love with him she really is. 

“ I’m falling in love with you, Angel Reyes. “ 

It’s the words he wants to hear but he’d be a liar if he said they don’t scare him shitless. There’s pressure that comes with them. Responsibility. And that’s not something he’s known to be particularly good at. 

But he wants to try. He wants to be good. Wants to be better. Wants to be enough.

“ Yeah ? Well that’s good cause I’m crazy about you, Callie. You’re my sun and all my stars. “ 

It’s awfully cheesy. It’s true though. Nothing’s ever been more true in all his life, he’s fairly sure about that.

“ Hey Angel, what are you doing today ? “ 

“ Dunno, nothing really. Gonna head to the scrapyard later. Other than that, nothing. “ 

“ D’you wanna come pick up Daisy with me ? We can go get ice cream or something. I just — I wanna have one good day with my favorite people before I deal with the shop. “ 

The thought of them 3 going to get ice cream. Of them sharing a day of pure fun and love and affection. He can’t help but let his heart soar for a second. Is this what it feels like ? Being part of a family that cherishes you ? He hopes he gets to keep this little family he found all on his own. That he gets to feel this giddy excited feeling for a long time.

That he gets to be with these girls for many more days to come.

He knows there’s a lot of shit that needs to be dealt with and that Travis guy is on the very top of the list.

But today, for one single day, he’ll let it all fall into the background and focus on this new found happiness that’s suddenly taking over his life.

All he wants is one day. And that’s what he’s gonna take.

“ That sounds like a pretty fucking great idea. “ 

So he sends EZ a text telling him to keep an eye out for the silver car. For the guy driving it. 

And with his mind a little at ease, he kisses Callie once, twice, three times. 

Their troubles don’t vanish and his demons don’t cease to exist, but they can wait until tomorrow.

Today’s for kissing and ice cream and love. 

#angel reyes imagine #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans imagine #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans fanfiction #mayans fanfic

[selfships-in-spanish]

In the magic AU you implied that violence against non-gifted wasn’t uncommon (when a wizard was angry at a non-gifted, that only meant trouble). Now I’m imagining the boys, with all their power and privilege, occasionally hear of “isolated” incidents of attacks against non-gifted among the other white noice of things that don’t concern them. They always shrug and think “so why should I care?” And go about their day. 1/2

But now they are slowly growing closer to this fiery, beautiful, amazing, non-gifted gardener who speaks to them as equals. (Not once do they recall being honestly called out for their shortsightedness. They assumed it was because they were incapable of such missteps, but she had no problem correcting that notion. It was… refreshing) and suddenly they find themselves growing fonder of her. And they care. They care very, very much 2/2

AAAAAANOOOOOOOOOOOON!!!!! YOU CAME TO SLAP ME WITH FEELS? Yes please come in, have a seat. Do you want some tea?

But here, have this. It has been sitting on my drafts quite a while, mulling over details and if I was happy with where this was going. 

For now I think I am, though! Enjoy this little monster of almost 3k words! :DDD

Isolated attacks weren’t uncommon. They weren’t given many media coverage, which only helped in keeping the people unaware of such incidents.

But still, they happened.

The soft sound of music coming from the old radio filled the silence of the living room. Connor was revising some important documents he had to take home, while Richard enjoyed a well-loved book. He insisted on leaving the windows and doors open, letting the sounds of summer inside. Richard enjoyed the birds chirping on the magnificently well cared garden, the bugs joining in. He also found that he quite liked the sounds of Ona gently working over the plants and flowers, humming along the song on the radio. The soil being moved, bad sprouts cut, water cascading down the leaves, the fresh smell of wet earth…

“We are sorry to interrupt this lovely song, but we got some breaking news to deliver. Don’t worry our fellow music lovers, we won’t take too long,” the voice of the radio host took them three out of their thoughts. 

Connor lifted his pen and looked at the old radio (Richard insisted on enchanting it. He liked the aesthetic); this might truly concern him. Richard stopped mid-sentence and waited. Ona kept working. 

“There have been reports of a great fire burning down Oakheart High, on the non-gifted district of Frostford. There has been no casualties reported, although some minor injuries from smoke inhalation and general panic. It is suspected that the fire is of magical origin, performed by isolated individuals.” Both Connor and Richard heard Ona’s tools clatter to the ground, followed by the sound of a pot shattering into tiny pieces. “It is known there are a lot of conflicts on that area due to the proximity of the non-gifted district to the Goldcrest district. We will keep you updated.”

Music resumed as it was before. Connor and Richard shared a worried look. They heard about the confidential plans for demolishing the ‘slums’ to build new high-end residences for wizards. People were at edge, ready to jump, and this was not good news for anyone. Richard threw his book on the sofa, sprinting outside while Connor dropped the pen on the table, probably smearing ink on the documents. They came to a halt on the doorframe when they saw her standing eerily still. Ona had her hands on the workbench, head hanging low between her shoulders. Her gloved hands were squeezing into fists, the fabric protesting for the abuse. The tools remained on the floor next to the shattered pieces of ceramic mixed with fresh and healthy soil. The cheery jazz song filled the suffocating silence, but the tune felt like knives on their chests. 

Connor waved his hand and turned it off.

“Ona?” Richard felt brave, taking a cautious step. He stepped on one of the broken pieces. The crunching sound resonated all over the little greenhouse, making Ona visibly flinch. Richard noticed it, knowing there was a story behind it. They couldn’t see her face, her fluffy white mane covered it, which made the brothers worry even more.

“Are you…?” ventured Connor.

“No, I’m not okay.” her voice was hoarse, as if she had a knot deep inside her throat. “How can I be okay?” Connor’s face softened to a pained expression.

Richard came to a halt next to her quivering form. He didn’t know if his touch would be welcomed right now, but he had to try. His big hand gently covered hers, squeezing lightly, and he felt her sob shatter her entire will. He took her on his arms, not minding how his clothes were getting absolutely ruined by the wet soil on her gloved hands. He could feel the warm wetness of her tears soak his shirt, her body tremble with every barely stiffed sob. Richard held her tighter, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her back while the other hand buried itself on soft curls.

Connor felt his heart squeeze painfully inside his chest. To see Ona, brave and fierce and beautiful Ona crumble like dry clay was gut-wrenching. Her determination and tenacity were enviable. She could move mountains with it, change the world, change…

Change them.

She changed them. Opened their eyes to the sheer horror they perpetuate with their laws, their lack of empathy for fellow human beings. They had to do with this, with the never-ending attacks on innocent people. Their silence was complicit. What were they afraid of? Why did they need to prove and reaffirm their supremacy? The more advanced species? Connor understood it now. It felt like a bitter revelation.

Deep down they knew that non-gifted were an unstoppable force through their sheer will. They could accomplish anything with only their brains and hands, no cheat codes, no magic to aid them.

Dear Lord, they had been such heartless imbeciles, driven by the most human emotion.

Fear.

“I’m sorry.” Came Ona’s muffled voice. She untangled herself off Richard’s chest, cheeks burning in mild embarrassment at the wetness she left there. Richard shushed her, still caressing her back.

Connor approached them with a handkerchief he summoned in his hand, offering it to her. Her tears still ran down her cheeks, unable to stop them. She took it with a barely noticeable smile. Connor felt his insides freeze painfully.

“Why don’t we get inside?” he tried, his hand softly grazing her arm. Richard nodded at him.

“C’mon, let’s take these out.” Richard gently took her gloved hands in his and pulled off the heavy gloves, dropping them on the table. She let him, not fighting his warm hands. Richard softly tugged her to follow him, Connor already inside preparing a soothing glass of cold lemonade. He knew Ona loved it in summer.

Ona left jugs and bottles full of homemade lemonade, her grandmother’s recipe, complaining about the absolute disgrace of a lemonade they bought. She somehow managed to revive the almost dead lemon tree and used it for cooking and drinks. 

Connor set a glass right in front of her.

They made her sit down between them, their body heat somewhat comforting despite the hot weather. Ona took a sip.

“I…” she didn’t know where to begin. She wanted to say a lot, everything, but at the same time she wanted to curl herself up and cry. She should start somewhere, though. “I attended that school. We used to live close to the border before my mother found a better job. I remember the building as an old tattered thing, cracks on the walls, broken chairs piled up in corners, fields that saw better days… But it was our school. We grew up there, made friendships, learned about things and the world in there.” both brothers listened, eager to know more about this brilliant woman. She usually didn’t share much about her past, only tiny bits here and there. “It hurts to know it’s on fire. My school is burning, my childhood is burning!” her voice gained a painful edge, starting to lean towards rage. “But it’s… It’s not…” Ona took a deep breath.” Crudely, it’s just a building, but what fills me with despair and so much anger is the fact of knowing that there were children there. It’s still being used, it’s full of people and those… those pathetic excuses of wizards decided it’s cool to set a busy school on fire.”

It was true that the behaviour of those wizards should be punished, pursued and brought to justice. But both Connor and Richard knew how very unlikely it was for that to happen. They knew far too well the procedures of such deeds. ‘Isolated cases, unstable individuals, disturbed youths…’. The wizarding society was unable to see the mistakes they were doing. They prefer to cover their ears and eyes, to hold onto this veil of ignorance, than to actually do something about the injustices they committed.

Ona stared at her feet, a somber expression covering her face. Connor and Richard didn’t know what to do, how to handle this situation. They were in fact a part of this problem, accomplices. Ona took a shaky breath. 

“What…” Her voice was barely a whisper now, hurt and pain coating it. “What are we to you?”

Those last words felt like a knife twisting in their guts. 

What are they? To wizards? To them? What is Ona to them both? They felt her words choke them in the realisation of the nature of their kind. Connor rubbed his hands together in a nervous attempt to ground himself.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ona.” Connor suddenly felt brave enough to try to say something, but the words tasted like dust. “I know how my words cannot make it all go away, or fix it, no amount of ‘I’m sorry’s’ will ever be enough for what we have done. To your people, to you.” He decided to venture a look to her face, the knife twisting further at her fresh tears. 

It seemed his words helped Ona to open up further, to spill her feelings and fears.

“You really don’t know how it is to not know when the next attack will be. If you will be trapped in it, if you or someone close to you will be the next. You live in fear.” She attempted to dry her tears with her hand, but more kept coming. “This feeling that you are not allowed to exist by simply being… you. That we are some kind of crime. Why? Why do you despise us so much?”

“We do not–”

Ona chuckled wetly.

“Yes you do.” Ona could recall the offended looks when they bumped into each other on that rainy day, as if she was some sort of annoying fly. 

The brothers felt sick. 

No.

No no no. 

NO.

“How could anyone hate you?” Richard whispered, upset at the thought of it. She was brilliant, strong, fierce, absolutely amazing. Magical.

Ona waved on the radio’s direction, her puffy eyes boring into Richard’s blue ones.

“Ask them.”

Both brothers didn’t know what to do, what do say. Guilt was eating at them both, remembering all the times they ignored the issue, frowned when a non-gifted crossed their paths, when they heard about an incident how they thought that maybe it was justified, somehow.

How they treated her the first time they met. Oh, dear Lord.

Ona’s rage and pain dulled into a strange calmness, but the brothers could see how her heart was bleeding grief and sorrow. She suddenly stood up, setting the half drank glass of lemonade on the coaster on top of the beautiful oak and glass table.

“I’m… I’m going to retire for the day, if you don’t mind.” Connor and Richard immediately stood up as well, following her with their eyes like two lost pups. They both made the attempt to reach out, to hold her hands and reassure her she was being listened. She paused on the doorframe leading to the main hall and the big and beautifully crafted stairs. Ona looked like she was about to say something but stopped herself at the last moment.

She disappeared and went upstairs to her wing of the house. Connor and Richard heard the creaking of the stairs under her weight and the thud of her steps on the regal carpet.

The brothers felt a dull ache in their chests. They felt like they should chase her, wrap her in their arms, safely tucked in them, and—

Richard went to the cabinet where he stored his finest liquors. He poured a considerable amount of whiskey on two glasses and came back to his brother’s side, offering a glass. Surprisingly, Connor took it and sat down. The amber liquid burned down his throat, hoping it would burn and melt too the ache inside.

Silence engulfed them. It was thick, threatening to choke them both.  They could hear the antique grandfather clock ticking loudly on the corridor, its sound almost drowning the chirps and buzzes of the cicadas and birds outside the garden.

The brothers looked defeated. What was the point of being powerful, an authority, if they couldn’t help those who needed them most? Richard drowned the rest of his glass in one go, looking at the beautiful garden without really looking, lost in his thoughts.

“We have to do something.” Richard’s voice was strained, still not looking away from the spot he fixed his gaze on. “We cannot… This has to end. We cannot turn a blind eye anymore.”

“How do we do this?” Connor sat back on the sofa, crossing his legs and frowning upon considering their possibilities and choices. “Amanda is a straight no. Neither is Perkins.”

“Markus is an option. The Manfreds never agreed with the laws concerning the non-gifted. They could be even called allies. Carl Manfred was always frowned upon his choices, but maybe someone as powerful and controversial as him will make people listen. Somehow.” Richard set the glass down on the table.

“What about Anderson?” Connor’s eyes shifted to his brother’s, who in return did the same.

“He is a wild card.” Richard stood up, pacing around the room while considering their options. “After the incident with his wife and kid…”

“I know.” Connor tapped his lips, deep in thought. “But we all know who the real culprits are, don’t we?”

“True.” They took part in the investigation but were ordered to keep it down. Hank knew, but he was too tired from the hospital visits to his son and grieving his loss of a wife to care about anything else. “We could make him finally move and pursue the culprits. Use his case to show the cruelty of wizards and how it’s truly mindless violence, directed at anyone who stands in their path. How it affects us all.”

“It would be like a domino effect.” Connor stood up with a hopeful note in his voice, pointing at Richard for his idea.

“We can do this.” Richard could feel Connor’s enthusiasm spread all over his body. “We can change things.”

“We can change the system.” Connor could feel a smile tugging at his lips.

“If she changed us, us–” Connor’s grin was contagious and Richard could feel it. He walked over to Connor with his hands spread on each side, conveying the spirit he was feeling with quick gestures. “We can change them.”

The brothers stood mere inches from each other, panting slightly in their excitement. Twin grins evolved into tiny giggles that ended up as thrilled laughter. They pressed their foreheads together as they used to as children, the laughter shaking them. Richard grabbed Connor’s nape, squeezing as if channeling the power and strength of his words. Connor did the same, reciprocating the raw spirit of their determination.

“We are doing this.”

It was past lunch that Ona found them on the living room with all kinds of papers, documents and ink stains. They brothers rolled out their shirt-sleeves, took off their vests and unbuttoned the first buttons of their shirts, and had glasses of lemonade next to them. They were completely absorbed by what they were doing that they didn’t even hear the steps coming towards them.

“What the hell are you two doing?”

Connor will never admit the startled shout he let out, pen flying out of his hand.

“Merlin’s beard, Ona!” He placed his hand on top of his wildly beating heart, his other one summoning the lost pen back to his hand. “Oh, uh, nothing? Just, wizard work. Yeah.” He didn’t need Ona’s raised brow to know how lame his attempt at bullshitting was.

Richard frowned, looking at her still puffy red eyes after putting away the paper he was reading. He commanded a slightly wet and soft cloth to appear on his hand. Richard stood up, walking over her and gently wiping her face from dry tear tracks.

“We are taking the corrupt government down.” Richard deadpanned, as if it was something mundane that you did just after breakfast.

Ona’s eyes widened, not believing what she just heard come out of Richard’s mouth.

“You–what– you are doing WHAT?”

“Taking the corrupt government down. It’s high time things changed, and you made us realize it.” Richard cupped her face in his hands, a soft smile gracing his lips.

Ona’s mind went blank.

“Holy shit.”

#dbh #detroit become human #rk800 #rk900 #rk800 x oc #rk900 x oc #rk800 x oc x rk900 #magical world au #wizard connor #wizard richard #ficlet #mius writes #ask #anon #Richard has no chill #B)

[enevi]

Shirogane no Oka, Kuro no Tsuki - Volume Three

Welcome back to Hakkei Palace where winter reigns and living ghosts grow in numbers, whereas in Bun Province the chilling wind blows away the last vestiges of hope... Or does it? With the winter descending upon the capital city of Kouki disquiet comes over the residents of kirin household. The feeling of both mental and physical unease grows among the servants as Heichuu and Tokuyuu (along with Juntatsu, one of the two Bun'en's assistants delegated to take care of Taiki) are becoming more and more distant in both metaphorical and literal sense, the former being suddenly transferred to the Inner Palace and the latter simply disappearing from his room just the other day. Kouryou is also one of the affected ones with perpetual headache and exhaustion making his doubts going into overdrive. He also really doesn't like the fact that Keitou was nominated as the deputy governor and Taiki not speaking his mind doesn't help the situation. As if sensing all this Taiki takes Kouryou for a walk around the garden. The day is cold so it's unlikely that their talk will be overheard by someone uninvited, but just in case they leave Yari to watch for any possible eavesdroppers. Like Shouwa for example, who is spying for one of the ministers, Risshou and whom others already suspect as she's not really good at that as opposed to her actual job as a caretaker. They take their seats in the garden pavilion by the little waterfall and the long and heartful conversation starts. Kouryou voices his doubts about Keitou's appointment and as Taiki explains about his decision, he finally agrees, that indeed, there was no other choice as the rest of the courtiers are either uncooperative or incompetent. Or both at once, like previous deputy Shison who was not only dismissed but also place in the house arrest by the Minister of Fall. As Kouryou thinks that is all, the Taiki, as if knowing that this talk is long overdue, finally opens up to somebody. He shares his doubts and Kouryou's not only surprised but also shocked that at the very beginning even Risai was under Taiki's suspicion as he had no way to know if it really were the general's genuine efforts and wishes that brought him back home. Or maybe it was Asen plan all along? Maybe he had known something about Taiki's worsening condition in Hourai and wanted him alive so he used Risai and Taiki's relationship as a guise to get other kingdoms to the work for him? Taiki had no way to be sure, but still had to take that leap of faith and if by any chance it turned out that Risai was really working for Asen, then well… It would have been that both Gyouso and Taiki were basically screwed (his words, not mine). Fortunately, it all turned out well and as Risai did not pursue Taiki after his sudden disappearance with Kouryou, kirin could take one big sigh of relief and finally start trusting his companions. Kouryou included. Especially in Hakkei Palace, where almost everyone has to be seen as their enemy, for it's really easy to trust the wrong person and consequently fail, as far as their mission is concerned. As of now Taiki trusts no one apart from Kouryou. And with more and more people disappearing it's difficult in the long term to find someone useful and trustworthy. Also as so many years have passed, they had no way to know anything about Gyousou's whereabouts. In case he was kept somewhere in the palace, someone had to get in and investigate. And who better than Taiki himself whom others couldn't really harm, if they wanted to keep the throne empty, for if they lose their kirin, the fate of kingdom goes back into Tentei's own hands and all that's left for the subjects to do, is to wait for the new kirin to be born and king to be chosen when the former matures enough to do it. What's more, the lie about the new ruler would also serve the purpose of taking the Court's eyes from Risai's search. As it all depends on kirin's instincts and sensing the king's aura, no one can verify the truth before the factual ceremony of ascension takes place. And it is known that kirins can't escape their nature and no say in the choosing, they also aren't likely to lie about it (or something like that…). Nevertheless, Taiki does acknowledges the fact that he really underestimated the whole situation and did not expect it to be so complicated. Thus, the current troubles. Kirin is also quietly surprised at Kouryou confessing his doubts about the 'New King' lie, and apologize for to reassuring him earlier, for there was no occasion for them to speak openly as there was always some else around. He also says that his gaze often strays, but not toward the Inner Palace, but toward the north. And that’s where Risai is and presumably Gyousou, too… At the same time, as someone constantly interferes with his plans, he's intending to pay Asen a surprise visit. The faster, the better - like tonight, for example. Of course, Kouryou doesn't want to hear about Taiki going alone, but then is seemingly convinced that going together is no the best idea, as there is no law about kirin being forbidden from going to any part of the Royal Palace (King's private quarters included, whereas Kouryou being a simple bodyguard wouldn't go unpunished, if found. And as the access to Inner Palace, where Asen resides, is heavily restricted and as (thanks to Seirai telling him in the past) Taiki does know how to use the secret shortcuts, it’s better for him to go alone… So as Taiki sneaks out his mansion under the cover of the night, it’s no surprise that Kouryou actually plans to follow him, but at the last moment is stopped by Yari, who tells him that she is more suited to do it as she did it a few times before and was never caught. He agrees and it ends up with Yari shadowing their willful kirin. As she goes after him she can't help but compare his current personality with the stories she heard from Ganchou. Stories about kind-hearted, innocent and intelligent child full of curiosity and respect for his surroundings. On the other hand, the grown up version is overly cautious, distrustful to the point of being paranoid, secretive and calculating. Also prone to scheme and telling a lot of lies. Far from typical kirins, to be sure. And so much more interesting. As she sees one of the marionette-like servants watching she also hears a suspicious a dove-like sound. And discovers a beast perched just beneath the building rooftop, jisen - a bird-like youma that has the power to suck out people's souls out of their bodies. Yari did suspect that something like this could be responsible for the state of the palace servants and clearly disturbed she quickly runs after Taiki. To Taiki's surpise he finally does find Asen, but not in the main part of the Inner Palace, but (quiet incidentally, to tell the truth) in one of the inconspicuous building in the eastern palace. In the dimly-lit room Taiki watches him seating all alone and humming the certain well known song about the gruesome and sad fate of the foot soldier, and wondering if this is the perfect reflection of Asen's unwillingness to take up the mantle of leader. The man himself is fairly surprised to see Taiki in such a place, but quickly recovers and becomes his normal distant and sarcastic self. For a moment they talk, but as Taiki points out that he doesn't think that Asen rebelled against Gyousou purely out of envy and spite, Asen quickly cuts him off and asks what is he really doing here. To that Taiki says that he wants Asen to step up and actually rule the country, for its citizens need the government help to survive the winter and to restore at least some of the court's basic functions. He also requests for Seirai to be released and returned to his side, but fed up with his advisor's audacity Asen summons his guard to transport Taiki back to his quarters and says that nothing can resume without the documents that Seirai supposedly stole. As kirin is brought back to his mansion, enraged Chouun barges in demanding the explanation and for Taiki not to do anything without consulting him beforehand. They get into a serious argument and everyone suspects that from this moment the slighted minister will be openly hostile toward already hated Taiki who in turn is absolutely calm and shrugs it off. As does Asen throwing out the letter from Chouun in which the minister demands him to take a clear actions against Saiho. At the same time he notices that another one of his puppet has just become useless and needs to be dealt with. For they are quiet easy to make but much more difficult to keep usable for the long time. They may have the right spells to somehow weaken the symptoms of jisen-induced 'illness', it still spreads, albeit much slower, though it transforms infected person into a living corpse that can be easily manipulated. Just a moment later Rousan invites herself in and while they have a 'friendly' chat about this and that, Asen starts reminiscing about his rivalry with Gyousou and how it brought upon his fall from grace. How it all began and how became a living hell for Asen himself when quiet friendly rivalry changed into desperate race to outspeed his shadow. For people said they were so much alike, started comparing them and finally came to conclusion that Asen was Gyousou's shadow and not the other way around. And then when after disobeying the king's orders Gyousou resigned from his post and went away, Asen came to realize that their rivalry might had been strictly one-sided and that all his excitement and respect were never reciprocated in the first place. That to Gyousou he had never been a challenge he'd look forward to. It hurt, but so be it, his nemesis left the royal courts and would just be forgotten with Asen's humiliation and hate. But to no avail, for the king himself demanded Gyousou's return and the man did come back eventually. And it just deepened Asen's already deeply-rooted hatred for the man. But he did manage to keep a lid on his emotions, to stop them from overflowing. Then Gyousou was named a new king and all Asen could do was to curse his fear of getting this ultimate confirmation of Gyousou's superiority. But then he had a talk with Rousan who told him that it wasn't really preordained that it was Gyousou who was supposed to be king. As kirin is the creature of instinct and could only sense the aura of the person not their exact personality and as Asen and Gyosou were so much alike, then who knows. Maybe if Asen had decided to climb the Mt. Hou at the same time as his rival, then maybe just maybe he would had been chosen. That gave Asen some ideas and while he was sure that Rousan might had just been feeding up his delusions for her own purposes he could stop thinking what if. Now, in the hindsight, Asen thinks, it might had been because Rousan, who counted herself among the most trusted of Gyousou's people, started to hate kirin for taking her place as the side of her liege. Not that Rousan confirms his suspicions. Instead she tells him that even though she has deeper feelings for their lord, her curiosity and the need to know everything about the relationship between rulers and the Heaven trump it all. And as no one would give her this knowledge on the platter, she had to find for herself… She also tells Asen to follow Taiki's advice and start ruling, because Heaven might become impatient and take back Its hard-won blessing before he realizes it's too late. In the meantime humiliated and outraged Chouun who was ignored by his liege one time too many, proceeds to make Taiki's life even more difficult and appoints previously dismissed Shison as the minister directly responsible for Saiho's well-being. Everything to make him regret going against the Prime Minister and getting rid of a troublesome subordinate at the same time. For if Shison does unwittingly interfere with Taiki's plan out of misguided feeling of obligation to Chouun for 'saving' him, he will be punished for his mistakes and no one will connect his actions with chousai himself. As Chouun trashes his own office in the fit of rage, his assistant, Ansaku, quietly observes while making the plans of his own…

*** Meanwhile in Rin'u Risai withdraws from the investigation and spends all her time in temple stables seeking consolation by Hi'en's side. But then Kenchuu brings invitation from the Sekirin Temple head priest herself and Risai knows she can't reject it because the monastery is normally closed for common people. There they're welcomed by the leader, elder woman named Mokuu, and by her side they see a few residents from Rouan. Among them is the village elder and the boy Risai and the others met by the grave of the unnamed soldier. As it turns out, not long after the group left Rouan, Kaisei left for the Temple to report the villagers' alleged crime and as they went after him to and also made it to Sekirin, Mokuu thought it wise to invite other people involved. So the chief deputy the proceeds to explain everything. About half year after King's disappearance the residents of Rouan did indeed find a wounded soldier, who eventually turned out to be one of Gyousou's supporters but at that time every city and village guilty of harboring the fugitives was burned to the ground, so they had to keep quiet about it. The years went by, but the man never fully recovered as he recklessly forced his body to get better and repeatedly fell ill. At the end, when his condition started to worsen rapidly he lied to Kaisei and refused to take the medicine because it was too expensive, so his caretakers had no choice but to secretly put it into his meals and the boy mistook it for the poison. As the soldier died in the end and not long after that the two deserters made it to Rouan and described Gyousou's appearance they then came up with the story that if any of the kings supporters came to search for him they would tell that it most probalby had been him. On the other hand, if the followers of newly elected king suddenly arrived, they were to tell them, that there had not seen anyone suspicious. Everything to protect themselves from eventual accusations. And while Seishi's furious, Risai says that she does understand their way of thinking and doesn't hold the lie against them, emphasizing how it is the sages' duty to think about the king, country and its people and that there's nothing strange with commoners prioritizing their own survival. Then Mokuu reveals that there's something really suspicious about the announcement of Asen's ascension, because her usual informant (the one separate from her 'spy' network) sent her the message. She doesn't know who this person is, but their predictions and warnings always come true and the bird used to deliver those letters is an expensive and very rare one that someone can't simply buy as it's mainly by the courtiers. Therefore, there is still hope for Gyousou's followers. When Mokuu withdraws to her quarters and the people from Rouan leave, Risai is then approached by the woman (named Shunsui) she rescued from the bandits not so long ago. As it turns out, both she and Kenchuu belong to the group that survived the purge of Tetsui, that right after the uprising started searching for Gyousou's whereabouts in the vicinity of Mt. Kan'you after the attack on him and the cave-in that happened not long after the incident. And as gathering so much people would have only encourage unwanted suspicion, they went to Sekirin for help and under the guise continued their investigation. And it still continues as Tetsui citizens will never forget or abandon their savior. Unfortunately they haven't found any trace. To that Risai answer that if Gyousou knew, he would be grateful for the effort itself. On they way back to their base, the group discusses the need to move somewhere else, as they already have too many suspicions eyes looking their way. Risai takes Hi'en and flies to the city of Sokou, where Kyuusan resides. When there she asks him for help and he agrees to provide them a new safehouse in Seisai where no one will bother them. As they prepare to leave Rin'u, Kiitsu unexpectedly visits them. The frail woman accompanying him turns out to be the reason why the local Temple wasn't so eager to help them. Just around the time of Gyousou's disappearance woman was one of the refugees illegally going in and out of the Kan'you mine and one day witnessed something she and her friends weren't suppose to see. Sometime before the attack on the king the unknown soldiers had brought two suspiciously looking and gigantic wooden boxes into the mine. And the things inside were moving and causing the soldiers some distress. Not long after that the cave-in happened. The cave-in preceded by something that sounded like an unearthly howl of some kind of beast. Then some of the surviving soldiers came out running and saw the refugees. The unwanted witnesses had to be dealt with and the woman was the only survivor... When Kiitsu takes the woman back to the hiding place, Risai and Seishi shadows them as it seems that the men that followed the group back from Houyou's mansion still haven't left. They corner the men and after some questioning learned that Risai and her companions where suspected of trafficking the refugees since it's happening all over the province. People are being taken to the city capital by force to increase the number of the soldiers in the capital. And as they get no real training they are meant to be a cannon fodder during the eventual war. When they finally talks things through the men ask for some time to contact Houyou and promise to go back. *** In the meantime the capital city of Kouki is the witness to the personal tragedy of newly appointed Shison who no matter how hard he tries, can't seem to please kirin he's supposed to care for. For Taiki does not appreciate any of his gifts and stops any kind of Shison's initiative to make Saiho's mansion more livable place… As annoying as the whole situation is, Taiki can't just shut him out since it would probably result is Shison wailing and prostrating himself in front of the main gate. But even this whole performance can't distract Taiki from his plans to sneak out again. This time to investigate the heavily-guarded place around the gate leading to the eastern part of the Inner Palace. As they finish discussing their plan and go back to the mansion they're met with very displeased and agitated Juntatsu who begs Taiki to give him any kind of explanation, since he's not very keen on getting punished for the things he has no knowledge about. And with Heichuu and Shouwa mysteriously disappearing he's just too afraid and confused. As Taiki hesitates Yari assures him that it's ok to trust Juntasu as she got rid of every jisen in the mansion. Then they learn the truth about the beast's effect on people and how Yari suspects that even if Asen somehow got his hands on them, he couldn't and still can't fully control them and that results with random people becoming puppets and to hide this fact, Asen just has no other way but to make them his direct subordinates. Such a great number of infected people clustered in one place also results in the appearance of the miasma that pulls in even more beasts. And so the situation is gradually becoming worse and worse. As Yari and Kouryou leave Taiki for the meantime, they talk about the whole situation and how it's impossible to bring back some of the already infected people. The girl also explains that it was most probably Rousan who helped Asen, as she, just like Yari herself, comes form the tribe of people living out there in the Yellow Sea and undoubtedly knows a big deal about youma and their habits. Yari also makes Kouryou aware that the morality of the people living in the wasteland of Mt. Hou is so much different than that of normal kingdom's subject. Meaning they feel no special kind of obligation or loyalty toward king or their kirin and Yari herself decided to serve Taiki because she thought him interesting enough to follow. And so once again Taiki and his guards leave the mansion under the cover of the night, this time using the system of underground tunnels which Yari knows pretty well. On the way to the eastern palace the three of them get their hand on some weapons, as it is certain that they will meet some guards. As Yari and Kouryou engage in battle with the soldiers Taiki is force to seek the place alone and finally comes upon the prison cells and one of turns of to hold kirin's long-lost governess, Seirai, who was charged with stealing country registers and consequently imprisoned and tortured for information. But the cell is closed and there is no key in sight. Taiki spies the guard probably holding it and desperately tries to convince himself that he will be able to kill if necessary. He already did… Even if it was him just desperately trying to find his place in that other world, for there was that one and only person who made him feel safe and welcomed… He's also different than any other kirin and was never truly conditioned to abhor violence and blood like the others of his kind. After all, kirins do kill, just not by themselves. They use their servant beast to protect themselves or others close to them and the same time avoid dirtying their own hands. Nonetheless, it's still a murder. So killing someone directly shouldn't be that much different, in the first place… As Taiki proceeds with his plan and almost finishes of the guard, Kouryou and Yari come to his aid and he's spared from having to do the killing, but at the same time Kouryou criticizes him for hesitating, because the man would have died anyway, as he failed to stop the intruders and that usually means getting executed. And while freak-out Taiki tries to process it all, they have no time to spare, therefore he has to go see the prisoner. Then he's literally brought to tears when he sees the state Seirai is in. But malnourished, dirty and repeatedly tortured woman is strong and her spirit has not been broken. She's so happy to see her lord all grown up and well… She's also eager to share the information she possesses. Information which Asen's interrogators haven't been able to get out of her for the last seven years. She urges them to send someone to Ba Province, as that's where General Eishou's retainers hide. Taiki's desperate to get her out but Seirai understands that it's not possible, because if they did, Asen would know it was them. So Kouryou and Yari have no choice but drag their grieving charge back the way they came from. But as they make their escape, it occurs to them that if someone is suppose to get out of the Palace it has to be now, because later there'll probably be no way out. As Yari assures Kouryou that she will take care of Taiki, the man himself hesitates but his master urges him to go as it is the easiest way to actually get to contact Eishou with Kouryou being one of his former officers. So Kouryou leaves them and makes his way to Ganchou who'll help him get out of Kouki. Meanwhile Taiki and Yari go back safely to the mansion and the girl's wondering how the whole situation will turn out as they most certainly be questioned about tonight's happenings and the only person to save them from direct accusations is Taiki himself. Next day around noon, they are visited by Keitou and the one accompanying him is Shukuyou - the Minister of Summer. As they politely make their enquiries, Taiki calmly answers, that yes, he's aware of his guard disappearing and was just commence a search as lately Kouryou seemed quiet unwell and as Heichuu and Shouwa went and disappeared, Taiki suspects that the same thing must have happened to Kouryou and is really worried about him. After obtaining no useful information, Keitou and Shukuyou are readying to leave, when suddenly Asen shows up after clearly having taken a walk along the secret passage hidden in the gardens. Taiki calmly welcomes his king and urges him to take a seat and while at first they talk rather normally, Asen finally snaps. He grabs kirin and brutally throws him to the floor demanding Taiki to pledge himself to the King here and now. When Juntatsu tries to intervene he's stopped and as Keitou move in front of him to defend the servant from Asen's wrath, Taiki simply bows and swears an oath to his New King… And then kirin is swallowed by darkness. It hurts, hurts so much. Like his head is about explode. But he can make it. He has to, for so many were suffering when he killed them and he has no right to complain. No, it doesn't hurt at all… As the pain finally stops and Asen's leaving, Juntatsu kneeling over Taiki notices the blood in kirin's eyes. And still, it’s nothing, for his body was made by the Heaven itself and really, it doesn't hurt at all. As Gogetsu and Boushuku were lately transferred to guard the entrance to Taiki's mansion, they are equally confused as they are happy when they see Asen coming out. Especially the latter as that's the first time he actually sees his Kings with he own eyes. Gogetsu goes to escort his liege back to the Inner Palace and has a short conversation with him, during which he notices that Asen seems strangely dazed and clearly disturbed by something… After Asen goes back to his quarters, Rousan invited herself to accompany him and together they talk about what happened. The minister is surprised and somehow disappointed that Heaven actually seems to approve of Asen, but at the same time she doesn't hide her displeasure about Asen actually flying into rage after someone uncovered his shameful secret. The secret being imprisoned Seirai, who still successfully resists Asen's interrogations. So frustrated and furious Asen had to take it out on somebody and found his target in Taiki. Strangely enough it doesn't make Asen like Rousan any less, as she's the only honest person around and he really appreciates that. Thinking back Asen wonders about how his initial plan failed. How even if he never planned to kill Gyousou in the first place, how actually close it came to it, when the man entrusted with the mission to imprison the king went one step too far. How for all this time Asen's had no idea about what's was about to happen. Because he had to separate the king from his kirin and with Taiki by his side, horn sealed and unable to locate Gyousou, he was supposed get the support of the ministers. But Gyousou had disappeared somewhere below the pile of stones and Taiki was swept by meishoku to the other world… How close it came to utter failure… Fortunately for Asen both Gyousou and Taiki somehow made it and where nowhere to be found. But it still didn't give Asen the sense of peace he'd longed for. There was no escape from Gyousou as he became the shadow sitting on the throne of the rightful king. He had to go and make it so all of the evidence of Gyousou's existence were destroyed. So he mercilessly hunted down the king's supporters… And still it didn't make him feel good enough… As Asen bitterly laughs and points out that Gyousou would laughed, if he was here, Rousan says that Asen's wrong and that Gyousou was aware of him this whole time and never ignored him. For they are really much alike, both Asen and Gyousou. It's just that even long before Gyousou ascended to the throne, Asen had already lost himself in the pursuit of glory while serving the former king. And Gyousou never did… *** After a few days of no word, Risai and her companions suddenly get the message from Houyou, who's inviting them to her villa in the city of Hakurou. When they get there they discover that indeed, the Fu family, for quiet some time, has been gathering not only vagrants and refugees but also deserters from Gyousou's army. She was also getting ready for the inevitable fight and has produced a great amount of weapons of all kind. Along with flying beast and provisions to feed the small army she's been housing in her villas all around the country. She also explains that with the province's leader affected by the strange malady, it's been fairly easy to get away with so many things as long as one did nothing openly suspicious. Houyou also arranges for Risai to meet the official from the Ministry of Winter responsible for covering Houyou's tracks. Tonkou turns out to be even older that Risai suspected as he's been in his office long before since the formed king ascended and and has a great deal of knowledge about the happenings inside the provincial offices. He also emphasizes that with a person of the sufficient rank (meaning someone like Risai) it could be more that possible to lay a siege to the castle and actually take control of it. And if only Gyousou was there, gathering even more people and marching toward the capital, would be even more possible. But as he's not here, everything is still ready. They just need some to take the lead. Risai politely declines the offer, explaining that she wants to focus on finding their king and Houyou answers that they'll gladly wait. *** In the meantime the New Year came and went and as before no celebration took place, Chouun expects everything to go as planned. For he's sure that this time he'll actually be able to Ministers to agree to restrict Taiki's movement even more. To his surprise he finds the Throne Room already occupied and Asen sitting on the throne with Saiho by his side. Asen then proceeds to announce his incoming enthronement, criticizes the work of the court and demanding immediate improvements. Back in his office Chouun rages and makes a plan to make the others work for him, as he's not to blame of any of the mistakes made and Ansaku agrees, while privately commenting on his incompetence. Not long after that Boushuku is forced to let uninvited guest into Taiki's quarters and is calmly assured by Gogetsu that Ganchou is the most welcomed, which seems to be confirmed by Taiki's reaction. For kirin clearly moved and close to tears as he kneels beside his retainer even going as far as laying his head on Ganchou's shoulder. That unexpected display of affection shocks Boushuku as he's never suspect kirin to be so humane. And just a second later Taiki appoints Ganchou as his new bodyguard. Then he invites the former general to his mansion and they have a long conversation about Ganchou having no choice but stay at the court when the ones close to him were taken hostage, about being demoted and being looked down upon while living in the small quarters and taking care of Gyousou mount, Keito, being his only purpose… Fortunately his retainers were spared the same fate. Ones like Santou who was taken in by Hinken and appropriately looked after by him and Kisen. Santou himself being glad and thanking Heaven for making it possible for Ganchou to take his new post at Taiki's side. *** At the same time Risai and her companions with the addition of Sekirin priest, Sodou, brainstorm about possible routes Gyousou could have taken while escaping Mt. Kan'you. Finally they settle on going north, even if Gyousou taking the difficult and extremely dangerous and pilgrim trail seems very unlikely. As Risai along with Kyoshi, Seishi and Sodou leave for Mt. Takuou, Houto and Yotaku make further preparations for the move to the city of Seisai. The infamous trail turns out to be even more dangerous and exhausting than Risai expected but they finally arrive at Koutaku and along the way they find the evidence of soldiers coming through. As they make their way through the crowded city Risai is unexpectedly approached by a few men and recognizes one as Kiro from Sougen's corps. It turns out that a few years ago the general and his men made it to the local temple and are hiding there to this day. As a big religious centre, the city of Koutaku, turned out to be a good hideout as, the influence of the priests is bigger than the kingdom officials'. As Risai is reunited with her friends they talk about everything that's happened to this day and to her dismay she discovers that for all these years Sougen's people have searched for Gyousou and found nothing. Suddenly though Risai thinks what if their King never made it out of the bowels of Mt. Kan'you? What if he's still there? And as they discuss the possibilities they come to conclusion that it's almost certain that Gyousou's still there. For there is one youma big enough to fit into that secret wooden box and one that has the power to move the earth itself with its howls and it's called ririku… So, the preparations begin. They have to gather enough people and get rebels to help them dig through all the rubble to may a way and possibly locate Gyousou. *** For his part, Asen always knew that something could go wrong when he chose the scum like Ukou, to do the job. But as the man was vile and cruel, he was also extremely efficient. Asen was also terrified of the possibility of his men rejecting his plans. Was terrified of becoming even bigger failure than he already was. So he planned the whole thing himself and with the help of Rousan got his hand on the pair of boar-like ririku powerful enough to cause the cave-in. Unfortunately they was no way to test their abilities and the dying scream of the beasts turned out to be too much, for all the things Asen was planning. Yes, he wanted to imprison Gyousou in the bowels of Mt. Kan'you but with the way to actually to oversee the entire situation. But the cave-in had much bigger scale than he wanted and Gyousou fell into the abyss… Even after losing more than half of his men Ukou came back with the disgusting smile on his face, fiercely proud of almost finishing Gyousou off and getting the job 'well done'. For all this time Asen's live in fear of not knowing anything and expecting every day to be Gyousou's last. With time he cut himself off from his retainers and withdrew from politics holing up in the Inner Palace. Now he wonders if this has been Gyousou revenge, all along… *** Somewhere in the Bun Province there's abandoned village with only one family still living in their old home. Once a month the man takes his little daughter to the riverbank and together they make a small offering of the basket filled with little things. An offering for the dead. The girl doesn't understand as they already have almost nothing to eat and with her sister starving to death not even two months ago… Still the girl is somehow happy because, her father resuming the tradition of monthly offerings means that he's getting better. Even if just a little bit. The man apologizes to his daughter for his selfishness and tries to explain that it's all for the person who long, long time ago made sure that the citizens of certain city survived their king's wrath. For the descendants of those people never forgot about Gyousou's part in saving the city of Tetsui… And as the basket full of offering drifts right into the dark caves of Mt. Kan'you man has no idea that his gifts are being delivered to the right person. *** Gyousou himself made some unforgivable mistakes… He'd known that he'd most likely get into the trap, but he couldn't ignore the possibility that runaway chief of Tetsui really needed his help. He also thought that it might be his chance to get the actual prove that Asen was planning something, because he obviously couldn't get rid of the man basing on his suspicions alone. Unfortunately he gravely overestimated his own abilities while underestimating the opponents who almost got him killed. Never before had he felt so powerless and desperate. Then there was a cave-in and long days of total darkness. At first he wasn't able to even feel his limbs wondering if one or two or all of them were gone. Then came the pain and the with it the knowledge. His arms survived the fall almost intact but both of his legs were broken. Fortunately there was no one to hear his screams when he had to set his bones. When he was finally able to move he begin to explore the cave and while he found some things necessary to survive a few tunnels and there was a flowing water nearby, he couldn't find any way out. And he knew he must had fallen really deep since somewhere above his head was the hole that let light and rain in. But it was so far away. Despite all that he never gave in to fear and despair as he was the King. He simply couldn’t. There were also a little things that gave him strength to go on. Like an occasional food offerings that made it possible for him to survive al those years. There was also one big and clear sign that he still had the Heaven's blessing. For one day he found a single youma in these depths. And for all the time spent in the wasteland of the Yellow Sea, he does know how to catch a suugu. *** One day officer Yuushou is summoned in front of the King and entrusted with the mission to bring back the fallen one. After hearing that order and seeing Ukou, responsible for all this mess, Yuushou can't help feeling betrayed by his liege. On one hand he know that if any of the retainers had known at that time about their master's plan they would have tried to stop. On the other hand Yuushou wished that Asen had more faith in them and gave them that forbidden order instead of giving it to the vile man like Ukou. Still, he has no way but to prepare and go to Mt. Kan'you. Not long after, agitated Keitou arrives at Taiki's mansion and begs kirin to release him from his duties. Surprised Taiki says that he force the man to stay, but he at least want to know the reason for this sudden decision. As Keitou breaks down he says that he can't no longer serve the man like Asen. That getting away from his lord, made him see how he fooled himself and tried to convince himself that there must have been some good reason for Asen to actually get rid of Gyousou, as Keitou himself had nothing against him. And as the situation has become clear he can't just stay here and work for the usurper. Taiki for moment hesitates but then calmly explains that Asen's not the king and that's why he'll need Keitou assistance when the time comes. Meanwhile Ansaku is quietly observing as his superior still deludes himself that nothing is his fault and that he actually can get Taiki's forgiveness for going against him so many times. Because as the situation stands, after Asen coming back to politics and giving direct orders more and more courtiers started to come to Saiho's side as he finally was able to actively start helping the struggling citizens by opening provincial storages and giving the refugees to earn some money by helping with the rebuilding of the city. And so the little bit of sunlight actually reached the Kingdom of Tai through the dense winter clouds… BACK

#twelve kingdoms #juuni kokuki #juuni kokki #shirogane no oka #kuro no tsuki #fuyumi ono #novel #summary #taiki #risai #tai kingdom #gyousou #asen #十二国記 #白銀の墟 玄の月 #小野不由美

[muses-darling]

Fire & Fury - A STAR WARS AU - CH.1 Assassin’s Protocol

“You would pin the actions of thousands on one man, and call it justice?” Hades said standing before not only the Jedi Council but the Republic’s senate. “IS THIS THE KIND OF JUSTICE ONE CAN EXPECT FROM THE MERCIFUL JEDI? IS THIS HOW THE REPUBLIC COMMENCES ITS DEALINGS?” He shouted ignoring the rising sound of various senators trying to shout him down a cacophony of varied languages and sounds of specific dialects. “YOU GET TO ACT ALL HIGH AND MIGHTY BUT THE REPUBLIC IS DROWNING IN THE BLOOD OF INNOCENTS, IT GROWS FROM THE WOUNDED BACKS OF THE HELPLESS, THE NEEDY! YOU ACT BLAMELESS, BUT THERE ARE SLAVES WITH IN THE SYSTEM AND NONE CAN TRULY SAY THEY ARE FREE, NOT SO LONG AS YOU CONTINUE TO TURN A BLIND EYE. THE LOT OF YOU PACKED IN LIKE OTOMOKIAN JELLIED FISH, NOT ONE OF YOU WORTH THE SEAT THE STATION YOU HAVE BEEN ENTRUSTED WITH-”

“Silence,” The Grand Chancellor stood. 

“-I WILL NOT BE SILENCED!” Hades fumed. “YOU HAVE ALL ENJOYED THE SILENCE TOO LONG.”

Jedi Master Gabriel stood, “Lord Ignis, we did not bring you here to debate the Republic’s morality. You have been brought here to answer for your crimes of war against the Republic. How do you plead?”

Will sat watching the man at the center of the room, unable to help himself with how much he agreed with the statements. The protests from his peers only perpetuated the truth that the Sith Lord Emperor spoke. Standing he shook his head and left making his way he’d had enough for one day, enough of the swaggering and lies. If there was one thing his time in the Senate had taught him, it was that the only thing that mattered to those who held such lofty positions was power. Power corrupts, the Republic had become a rotting, festering husk of what it had once been. 

Hades stood his face calm but he was clearly seething, his voice grew dark and dangerous a growl intertwining with the otherwise smooth sounds of his words. “Oh on that Ladies, Gentlemen, Gentlethem and those that have gathered here in this room, on that account I plead most guilty. I would do it a thousand times over again.”

________________________________________________________________

-Six Months Earlier-

Ben trained his breathing back down from the rapid breaths to calmer ones as he focused reaching out with the force eyes closing only to feel the sting of a training bolt blast from the remote into him. “OW!”

Kit chuckled, “Try again.”

Ben glared at him before doing so again this time be deflected it away from himself hearing a gasp he opened his eyes, “SORRY!”

“Well I should say so!” Harper said with a huff crossing her arms. “You could have singed me!”

“Well if it helps, I’ve been singed lots of times today already isn’t that right Master Kit?” Ben looked to Kit.

“And you will be again if you don’t block with your lightsaber,” Kit reminded him.

Ben deflected his training remote again and sighed. “When will I get to learn more force moves? You said I’ve got the makings of a great force user shouldn’t I be learning more of that?”

“But you are,” Kit said crossing his arms with a soft smile. “You are learning to trust the force only when one does can one truly use the force to their full potential. Same goes for you Harper. You’re on the remote after him, I want three hours of solid dedication from both of you a day if you can on just practicing with the remote.”

Harper picked up a blaster from her side shooting the remote down. “There, remote defeated.” 

Kit gave her a tired look before chuckling as a new remote came up from behind and fired upon her.

“HEY!” Harper said. 

“Strike one down and another shall rise in it’s place.” Kit smiled. “Now both of you focus. Master Crowley will be along to teach some techniques of the force.” He had spied his beloved waving him to him. “For now I must see husband.”

“More like feel,” Harper made a face before rolling her eyes.

“Thank you Master Kit,” Ben waved as a secondary remote came out for him to practice with, the two siblings working on their defense. 

Kit practically bounced at seeing his Husband a skip in his step making his way to Hades and pressing a tender kiss to his beloved. “How I have missed you! What brings you so far from Korriban my love?”

“You, do I need any other reason?” Hades smiled looking his beloved over before looking to the courtyard where the siblings were hard at practice. “How goes their training?”

“It goes, is going, and I think I would say well?” Kit chuckled. “How goes ruling?”

“Not as fun without you at my side.” Hades ran a hand over his lover’s chin brushing back the swirling golden curls that framed his face. “How I have missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you more,” Kit told him moving closer.

“I’ve missed you more then there are stars.” Hades leaned in closer.

“I have been starved without you my darling,” Kit pressed a deep kiss to Hades. “Truly,” Kiss. “Madly,” Another Kiss, “Deeply.”

“Mmmm deeply you say?” Hades rested his head against Kit’s. “Well perhaps later I’ll see just how deeply you’ve missed me.” 

Kit smirked up at him. “Or you could find out now?”

“You are incorrigible.” Hades hissed wanting nothing more than to have him in the room just beyond. 

“How you’ve lived without me darling, I will never know.” Kit booped Hades’ nose.

Hades caught Kit’s hand and pressed kisses to the tip of the man’s finger trailing down the hand up the arm to the man’s lips dragging him towards the other room. “It hasn’t been easy, and I don’t think I can for another moment.”

________________________________________________________________

Purple liquid swirled and filled the glass, another held turquoise, some green that shifted into yellow. Hands grabbed the glasses and credits clattered to the counter. Godwin smiled as he made drink after drink for his patrons, idle chatter rarely if ever wasn’t something that couldn’t bring him some extra credits his way. So when a familiar face entered his vision his stopped what he was doing and had a fellow bartender take over making a few pints of Corellian Ale for them to drink over conversation. “Well if it isn’t my favorite Captain in the Galaxy.” He embraced the man.

“Hello Godwin.” Captain Alucard hugged him back clapping his shoulder. “How is the only bartender worth a damn in the outer rim?”

“Just the outer rim?” Godwin pretended to be hurt. “After such praise I gave you?”

“The whole Galaxy.” Alucard chuckled.

“I’ve been well, my ear’s been filled with many tales including one that you took on the whole of the Knights back on Dantooine just before the Sith took the planet. That you fought the Sith Emperor and lived and-”

“You really should get out more Godwin, that’s old news.”

“So it’s true?”

“Only partly.”

‘Which part?”

Alucard fixed Godwin with a look. “I didn’t take on the Knights I was captured by them and got free. As for the Sith Emperor, it depends on who you mean.”

“Ignis.”

“No, the one before Moloch.”

“Really?”

“Really,”

“Wasn’t that dear old,” Godwin looked around lowering his voice to almost silence. “Dad?”

“Yes, and if you wouldn’t mind not saying so I’d be appreciative. Last thing I need is to have a bounty placed on my head by association.” Alucard sipped his ale. “That’s good stuff.”

“Corellian.”

“Always knew their Ales.”

“Wine’s leave much to be desired.” 

“Naboo and Alderaan are the way to go for Vintages,” Alucard told him. “Now I came to speak to you, about the Knights, since Dantooine they went underground. Not a blip on the radar. Unless you may have heard something?”

“Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t,” Godwin sat back. “Ale’s on the house, information isn’t.”

“Just so,” Alucard said. “I have given you some information, please be kind to reciprocate.”

“Not without credits.” Godwin told him. “It’s my neck too.”

Alucard scoffed, “Honey you want to step in and see if you can get him to talk? You always had a way to get people to.”

A knife stabbed into the table next to Godwin’s hand. “Hullo Gods.” Honey leaned in. “Long time no see.”

“See you both are still quite the item.” Godwin smiled hiding his face behind his mug.

“That’s not what we are here to talk about Godwin.” Honey sat down between them.

“Why do you both want to know so badly?”

“Because there’s a young girl who misses her Father terribly.” Alucard said.

“Then, it is good to know she is still alive,” Masters said moving from the shadows though in disguise any who knew him well enough knew that it was him. There were certain characteristics that gave him away, tell tales as it was. 

“I know someone who’s been waiting to see you for quite some time.” Alucard smiled reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small holo tossing it to Masters.

Catching it he turned it on and watched Emelyne appear before him. “Where is she?”

“Aboard the Cerberus, waiting to find out if the rumors are true,” Alucard smiled.

“Rumors?”

“That the Master of the Knight’s resides on Loth.” Alucard smiled. “Glad to know she can count on finding you. Kaleb was starting to give up.”

Masters smiled. “Thank you for not letting her.”

“I know plenty about missing parents.” Alucard smiled. “I wasn’t about to let her think hers were too.”

________________________________________________________________

Explosions went off over head as the world shook pieces of the ceiling falling down upon and around them. Hades got up looking up to the sky watching as Sith Imperial Harbinger Class Destroyers appeared overhead. 

“Darling what is it?” Kit hurried to his loves side pulling his clothes on peering to the sky. “What are-”

Hades turned quickly pulling Kit down with himself as the window collapsed in a blast fire and smoke swirling into the room before dissipating. Hades sat up from where he had landed on the floor looking to Kit. “Well that was-” He cut himself short of finishing the sentence at the sight of red blood flowing from Kit’s forehead. “Kit?” He grabbed the man close pulling him to him. “Kit? KIT!” He shook him. “Kit-Oh Kit!” He scooped him up and started for his ship. From there he could patch Kit up as they got away.

The heavily modified Sith Infiltrator ship stood on a landing pad, the hatch opened and he handed Kit off to the Protocol Droid. “Take care of him.” A searing pain came over Hades as a blaster bolt shot through him. Falling back and down the ramp Hades landed on the pad beneath the ship.

“Master!” The Droid called out setting Kit down.

“NO GO! GET OUT OF HERE KEEP HIM SAFE!” Hades ordered the droid seizing his shoulder for a moment, as he looked at the Sith who were coming after him. These wore different colors than the ones back on Korriban. Drawing his lightsaber he stood ignoring his shoulder’s protests. “GO!”

The ship rose in the air as the droid followed Hades’ orders, shooting off into the stars above and beyond. 

Hades watched it leave and looked to his attackers. “Alright who’s ready to see what comes after this life?” He twirled his blade nearing them knowing his beloved was safe was all that mattered to him. “Come on my blade is ready for you to fall on it, and fall you shall.”

- 

Kit sat up his hand going to his bandaged head as he looked up at the strange looking protocol droid. Clearly an older model sitting up he frowned, where was he? 

“Statement: You have woken up Master.” 

Kit frowned. “Master? I own you?”

“Affirmation: Yes you do, you are my master.”

“How did I? Where am I?”

“You are aboard the Tartarus, the ship that Master uses.” The Droid added. “Master is to be cared for by me and protected by me from other meatbags that might wish your fleshy bits to not be so well kept together. Rest assured you could be in no better hands, Master.”

Kit nodded, before getting up. “How did I get aboard the ship?”

“Statement: Master brought you here, before ordering that you were to be taken away from the planet you were on. A most wise decision on Master’s part as it seems that things were getting dangerous as evidenced by your fluids flowing from your head. How you manage to keep sane while you slosh about with all that fluid in you, amazes me.” 

Walking to the ship’s cockpit Kit keyed the system to life and looked at the previous destination. “I have no memory of being there.”

“What does Master remember?” The droid asked having followed him into the Cockpit.

“I don’t know, I was with the Jedi, we were at war, I had escaped Lord Ignis.” Kit furrowed his brow in thought straining to bring memories to the light. “The destination before this one is Korriban. Perhaps I was refueling?” 

“Affirmation: The ship did take on fuel while we were on Felucia. Before all the fun started and we had to leave Master’s orders.”

“Strange that I don’t remember such orders.”

“Observation: Strange indeed. Perhaps Master has taken a harder hit to the head than initially thought.”

Kit looked to the system’s navigation before pressing in the coordinates for Coruscant. “Jedi Master Gabriel might be able to give insight as to why my memories seem so obfuscated.”

“Remark: A Jedi Master? Is that wise to seek the advice of such an organic? Why not shoot him instead.”

Kit looked from the view port at the odd droid. “Why do you talk like this?”

“ Annoyed Statement: Because Master Programed me to be this way, I am more than a protocol droid, I can also shoot meatbags, disintegrate Meatbags, and other grisly forms and ways to protect Master should the need arise. I also can bend spoons, wash windows and translate six thousand forms of communication allowing me to tell people how I will kill them in their language, I think it is more beautiful that way.”

“Jedi do not kill.” Kit said.

“Observation: Then perhaps it is best that I am not a Jedi and you are, I will kill them for you.”

Kit sighed, “At least wait for me to tell you too.”

“Statement: Of course Master, but I am ready to serve at a moments notice.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Kit offered a smile that was rather curt in nature.

“Now if you will excuse me I am going to polish my blaster and make sure it is up to spec for potential killing.”

Kit nodded and resumed piloting before closing his eyes and letting the force envelope him as he began trying to repair his patchy memories.

-

Hades slew the last of the Sith that had surrounded him all except one who had stood back as if watching a training not full on combat. This one now at last joined into the fray. Lightsaber blades met and Hades felt a twisting in his gut. “You should have remained dead.”

“Funny,” The terrible sound of the Sith before him’s breathing apparatus hissed between intakes of air. “I could have said the same thing Lord Ignis.”

“What brings you back?”

“Oh the usual,” The Sith said circling with Hades blades humming with energy. “I could never resist a power vacuum.”

“Or anything with legs,” Hades rolled his eyes. 

“You know me too well Brother,” The Sith Lord would have smiled if he could. 

“Lord Lykaios.” A Sith came near them. “Another ship escaped.”

Lykaios turned cutting him down where he stood watching the messenger fall. “Thank you for telling me.” He looked to Hades. “And yet I do not see you running.”

“Should I be?” Hades asked him. 

“Shouldn’t you be?” Lykaios grinned. “Not that you will get far. You’ve already lost so much blood. I can see it you’re weak. You’ll make a fine decoration for my throne.” 

#CH.1 Fire and Fury #SeaCoastCity SWAU #SW:F&F

[fenfyre]

Cleaner - Part I

For @colonel-curry who allowed me to dive straight into crackpair hell

Content Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence. This is gonna be dark and wrong, bloody on screen death, abuse of power and malicious manipulation dark and wrong. Indulge with me in this one at your own risk.

As long as Jean could remember he’d wanted to live the good life. And there simply was no place to live a better life than upper Midgar City. A metropolis with huge, shiny buildings, magnificent concert halls and theatres, modern museums showcasing the finest arts and restaurants serving their wealthy, elegantly dressed customers only the most exquisite masterpieces. All of it was overwhelming enough to make his innocent village boy eyes shine when he stepped off the train the very first time.

Now, there was one obvious choice he could have made to ensure his survival in the big city. But unlike all the other boys and girls taking up the pilgrimage to the promised land of the rich and powerful Jean didn���t come here to join the military.

He could have. He was young and healthy and strong, would have been fairly well off as a ShinRa Soldier. Only that he didn’t want fairly well.

Besides, he wasn’t just young and healthy and strong, he was also cunning and ambitious, willing to do almost anything to earn his place. And there were other departments than defence that he could offer his talents to. Departments that didn’t just blindly take anyone willing to sign up to use as cannon fodder during the next conflict.

No, if Jean was to sell his soul it had to be for the right price and to someone more willing to value the deal than some idiot commander in the habit of herding recruits like cattle. If Jean was to be faceless he’d choose to leave his face behind, not have it taken from him. He’d disappear in style.

Of course one didn’t just apply to the Department of Administrative Research, not if one was a nobody from a backwater village with nothing but an intense affinity for technology to their name. But Jean was patient, he was in this for the long run. So he got a job at another branch of Public Safety. Less exciting, less reputable. Less lucrative.

Good enough to start making a name for himself though and that was what he did for three long, boring years.

They started approaching him after about fifteen months, trailing shady requests to hack into this system or get them through that firewall, to program certain spyware or decode encrypted files. Always slapping him with winded confidentiality agreements before even disclosing what they were after this time.

Jean didn’t mind. He wouldn’t go around bragging about the secrets he found for them. He valued his life and his future too much for that.

Then, after another eternity of waiting and complying, of building his reputation, Administrative Research went up in flames. There were a thousand rumours about what had happened to Veld, the former leader, and most of their forces. A lot of them were wild assumptions but Jean also heard things that could almost be true, given what he already knew thanks to his research assistance. It might have been a tragedy. But it also meant that positions were opening up.

And when Tseng himself, now in charge of Administrative Research, visited Jean’s office one fine morning, he didn’t hesitate.

The screening process was insane. But Jean didn’t have anything to hide and in the end they seemed to like the fact that he could grow a silver tongue when necessary and still hold himself just fine in a fight. In addition to the way he made even the most advanced security programs roll over for him, of course.

Where he couldn’t impress with expertise they saw potential and what wasn’t quite there yet they said they could teach him.

Maybe he was lucky. Or, more likely, they very desperate.

The fact that the department was severely understaffed meant that the training he actually received was few and far between, interspersed with accompanying the veterans on actual missions that grew more and more serious the more often he took part in them.

But Jean went into this with both eyes open. He knew it wasn’t the safest job in the world and besides, it turned out field work was the most practical training he could ask for. He got to know the exact kind of work that was expected of him, the skills he’d need to survive for longer than a few weeks and, most importantly, got a chance to assess his new colleagues and supervisors.

Jean enjoyed working with Elena most. She was a little stiff and inexperienced herself but she was still a skilled Turk whose judgement he’d trust in every situation they encountered together. Besides, being the last addition to the department before he joined, she knew his situation and never hesitated to lend a helping hand. She was patient and kind even though it was obvious she had her own demons to wrestle.

Tseng was impossible to judge. Always serious and cold, always in control, always giving short, sharp orders that Jean followed on pure instinct. He was the strictest person Jean had ever met and their current leader for a handful of very obvious reasons.

It was easier to work with Rude, short-spoken and stone-faced as he was, Jean liked him enough. Even though the perpetual silence made him paranoid now and again.

And then there was … well.

After seven weeks at the department Jean still wasn’t sure what exactly to make of Reno. Which was strange enough in itself. Jean knew people, he was an excellent judge of character and had yet to run into a person he couldn’t connect to at all on a basic level.

But after all this time the only thing Jean could be completely sure of was that Reno was dangerous.

It wasn’t like the other Turks weren’t, that was a trait right out of the job description, after all. But Reno … there was something about him, something dark and violent hiding behind his sloppy, lazy attitude and goofy facade.

He wouldn’t be the second in command of the planet’s most powerful intelligence agency if he actually were the careless idiot he wanted everyone to think he was.

No, Reno could flirt with as many secretaries and screw up as many reports as he wanted, Jean had seen how he could get on a mission. How his eyes would flash when he reached for his weapon, how he’d grin maniacally while extracting information in the most brutal, inhumane ways imaginable.

He knew that behind the winks and shitty jokes there was something unstable, something completely unhinged that could run rampant at a moment’s notice. Which was why Jean kept his distance, watching, thinking.

It didn’t always work.

Part II

[If you enjoyed this story consider buying me a coffee or check out how to commission me!]

#JeanReno #RenoJean #Jean Kirschtein #Reno #Reno ffvii #snk #ffvii #CrossOver #crackship #commission #give this some time to ramp up my friends #and give it a shot even if you don't know anything about the setting #i'll make it worth your while #i swear i haven't been this excited to post something in a little while

[cosmi-trashbin]

My Top 5 Favorite Ducktales 2017 Episodes (So Far)

I’m pretty new to DuckTales as a whole.

The reboot has been my official introduction to Scrooge McDuck, Duckburg, and otherwise. So, it may be awhile before I’m familiar with or better acquainted with the original comics and the first cartoon series, as well as other series referenced such as Darkwing Duck and Talespin. After getting caught up with this series, I’m definitely curious about the source material that bits and pieces of the toon makes loving references and homages to. Regardless, these picks are based on what I’ve personally liked and enjoyed about DuckTales 2017 so far.

5.) "The Golden Lagoon of White Agony Plains!"

Golden Lagoon is the reboot’s introduction to Scrooge’s old flame Goldie O’ Gilt. She’s cunning, she’s devious, she’s beautiful, and she’s one of the few ducks that can really give Scrooge the proverbial run for his money. It’s kind of fun to see how dramatic, complicated, and dysfunctional her relationship with Scrooge is. Scrooge and Goldie definitely gives off vibes of ‘This is the only man/woman I have genuine feelings for’ but it’s tempered by the idea of a perpetual cat-and-mouse chase.

Goldie and Scrooge sync up on so many things, but their attraction towards each other and the big deal-breaker are their respective obsessions with and opinions on treasure-hunting. For Goldie, treasure is the ultimate objective, she will go to any length to get it, and she’ll do whatever she thinks she needs to do to keep it. For Scrooge, he’s obsessed with gold and hoards treasure like a true miser, but he’ll pick a loved one over treasure every time if it comes down to those rough circumstances. It’s a bit of a toss-up as to how Goldie will react to or behave in certain situations. The ideal meeting for Scrooge and Goldie is a fairweather Indiana Jones venture with low stakes and only the other as their worst enemy. It’s more fun and the focus is on being both enchanted by and disgusted by what the other will do next.

Scrooge and Goldie had the spotlight for this episode, but Glomgold is a ridiculously welcome third wheel. Apparently, his jealousy of Scrooge’s love life is the kind of kicker to give him “Grade A Villain” casting for at least an episode. It was unexpectedly grim when Goldie slipped into that river of molten gold.

4.) "Who is Gizmoduck?!"

I love episodes of cartoons that focus on and follow another character of the cast for at least that one story.

This episode is pretty much the underdog story of how Fenton, the humble and starry-eyed intern, became the hero Gizmoduck. Previous episodes set up Fenton as an awkward, kind of over-compensating, but sympathetic figure. All he wants is to earn his boss and personal hero Gyro’s respect and get a few words of encouragement. Viewers learn that Gyro isn’t the only one Fenton’s trying to impress. His M’Ma, Officer Cabrera, is skeptic of Fenton’s role as an unpaid intern and his insistence that “it will lead to bigger, better things, I swear!” In short, Fenton is caught between his personal hopes and the expectations of others.

With how much respect Fenton holds for Gyro, the expected story was that he’d be let down by how the man doesn’t live up to the idealized image in Fenton’s mind. Instead, Fenton has been losing respect for and blind admiration of Gyro for awhile. Fenton’s attention shifted to Gyro’s highly experimental prototype suit of armor and what kind of potential said suit has. It’s no longer about gaining Gyro’s approval. It’s about figuring out who Gizmoduck is and what he can do. Whether he expected it or not, Fenton unexpectedly stumbled into his life’s purpose. Suddenly, Gizmoduck isn’t just an abstract idea or an idealized concept, Fenton is Gizmoduck. Since the episode shows things from Fenton’s perspective, Gizmoduck can be considered a key part of his own journey towards self-actualization.

Honestly, I consider “Gizmoduck” an example for why this toon has something for everybody. Kids have the triplets, Webby, and Lena. Older adults have Donald, Scrooge, and Beakley. And personally, as a twenty-something on a self-discovery journey, I relate to and empathize with Fenton.

3.) "From the Confidential Case Files of Agent 22!"

There was a scene in the very first episode where Webby posed dramatically in front of a Scrooge statuette. Part of me was pointing excitedly at the screen thinking “She’s Scrooge McDuck’s thematic echo for the current generation!”

I was a bit off. Arguably, both Louie and Webby have traits, goals, and motivations in common with Scrooge. In Webby’s case, she shares Scrooge’s intense enthusiasm and zeal for adventuring and the history attached to the relic/site they’re about to visit. The reason why she’s so drawn to and utterly fascinated by Scrooge is that she’s Scrooge’s kindred spirit for lack of a better description. “Confidential Case Files” is the most significant episode so far for fleshing out this particular idea and Webby’s specific bonding-with-Uncle-Scrooge episode.

Viewers are treated to a fun James Bond parody, the official reveal and confirmation of Mrs. Beakley’s background as a spy, and direct focus on Scrooge and Webby’s dynamic. It’s fun to see Webby’s and Scrooge’s vie to rescue Mrs. Beakley compared/contrasted with the first time Scrooge teamed up with Agent 22. Webby naturally goes for similar conclusions and approaches to island threats that Scrooge originally had, but her actions are tempered by Beakley’s shrewd instincts. Scrooge and Webby’s team-up is a showcase for what kind of impact Beakley had on both of them: Scrooge tries to be more conscientious and responsible of his actions and Webby’s reckless adventuring spirit is teamed up with thorough training from Beakley. In short, Webby benefits greatly from having both Scrooge and Beakley as her mentors and guardians.

Scrooge and the triplets have been a driving force in Webby opening up and exploring how to be more comfortable her strange, eccentric self. When Scrooge acknowledges how important bonding with her is, it’s pretty much on-screen confirmation that Webby and Beakley are extended members of his family.

2.) "The Other Bin of Scrooge McDuck!"

Throughout the series, Lena kept trying to convince herself and her aunt Magica that she was just ‘using’ Webby and that she’s locked away all of her ‘weak’ emotions. But it was just lip service the entire time.

I’ve loved her character writing over the course of the entire first season. Viewers can see Lena’s struggle and empathize with how difficult it’d be to act against her aunt, but root her on that much more the bigger and more significant her defiance becomes. It starts with how ambiguous her reasons for saving Beakley were and grows into signs that she sincerely cares about her friendship with Webby, if not the McDuck family at large, when she uses her magic to destroy Magica’s money shark. Lena’s personal dilemma has been gaining her freedom vs the possibility of hurting someone completely innocent. Despite her position, when things get dire, Lena opts for the decision that helps/protects others from Magica.

Lena’s freedom was the most powerful incentive Magica had to keep the girl under her control. The nightmare is Lena’s bucket of cold water. It’s one thing for the McDucks to find out about how she was part of Magica’s plot, but the bigger realization is that Magica can and will hurt the people Lena cares about no matter what she does. Even worse, Lena was always just a tool for Magica and that if she can, Magica will use Lena to destroy the people Lena cares about and revel in it.

Watching Lena inadvertently destroy Webby permanently left a bigger impact than anything else Magica did. The build-up and execution of that scene, in addition to Lena’s relief at it all just being a dream, is hands-down one of the strongest scenes in this series. It’s satisfying to see Lena try to reach out to Scrooge for help. It adds to how fantastic a twist the Magica possession is and gives ample weight to how tragic Lena’s death is.

After “Shadow Wars,” I’m really hoping Lena returns at a later point in the series. While there’s a certain kind of narrative closure and gravity to the idea of Lena as Webby’s guardian spirit, the sappy part of me wants her to come back. I want the happy, fairytale ending of Scrooge adopting Lena, okay?

On a side note: It’s kind of interesting that plush doll Webby partly resembles her original character design from the 1987 DuckTales series. Maybe this scene could be interpreted as having a double meaning or something?

1.) "The Last Crash of the Sunchaser!"

This episode is an emotional gut-punch because of the ending montage. The entire season kept dropping bread crumbs about the missing Della subplot. As the story keeps building, it’s like a rubberband is slowly getting pulled to the point of snapping with Scrooge’s confession about the Spear of Selene. In the heat of the moment, the triplets directly blame Scrooge for losing their mom and old wounds are ripped open for Donald. It’s understandable why everyone is so emotional and the big fallout that follows. As if seeing the triplets’ hearts break wasn’t enough, viewers see Scrooge’s side of the story: He was getting used to the idea of having family join him on adventures, building the Spear was a gesture of goodwill and hopes for how grand future adventures would be, how everything went wrong when Della took off against his warnings, and how desperately he tried to get Della back home safely.

Losing Della broke and devastated Scrooge just as much as it did everyone else. Over the course of adventuring with his niece and nephew, he was starting to become more open-minded and open to others in general. He already took people under his wing if they had interesting ideas and rebellious ideas that stuck out to him, but even then, they were just colleagues or employees. Della and Donald started to convince him to consider others, family especially, as someone he could trust, confide in, and learn from just as much as he could teach them. Seeing Scrooge sink back down into that big arm chair was the dramatic climax of his character arc in this series; a weighty echo of this series’ fantastic take on the classic ‘curmudgeonly Scrooge’ story.

In short: This episode’s writing tugged at my heartstrings and made me feel things.

#ducktales 2017 #ducktales reboot #scrooge mcduck #webby #ducktales lena #ducktales della #favorite episodes list #top 5 list #top favorites list #favorites list

[witchypupil]

Practicing Witchcraft: What You Should Know About Blood Magic

Blood Magic

‘Blood magic’. conjures up all kinds of gothic images, doesn’t it? The very word ‘blood’ is a real attention-grabber. Combine it with words like ‘magic’, ‘ritual’, ‘spell’ or ‘rite’, and usually thoughts fly to human sacrifices on a stone altar dripping with dark red and other images that look like something straight out of a horror movie.  

As usual, the fiction is much darker and more stirring than the reality of it. Yes, blood can be dangerous— both magically and mundanely. But fire can also be dangerous, no one would think to tell you not to use it to cook your meals. You just have to learn how to use it safely and properly.

The truth is, blood magic can be quite potent if you’re inclined to do it, and if you know what you’re doing. It should not be undertaken lightly, or carelessly; but it doesn’t deserve the ‘taboo’ stamp that many are quick to give it.

Using Blood in Magic and Spells

The Power of Blood

I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that blood is a powerful thing. This is something that is so embedded in us that we all understand it. Fear and awe of blood goes way back to our earliest human ancestors. The sight of that bright red fluid -- whether it was coming from an enemy or friend, your prey or yourself – got immediate attention. Blood is associated with such powerful concepts that some people can’t stand the sight of it, and might faint away if presented with too much. Hemophobia is the fear of blood.

Blood is associated with death: the slain warriors on the field, the victim of violence, the hunter’s prey all lay bloody in their final state. Blood is also associated with life: it’s part of the cycle of fertility that perpetuates life. If you lost too much blood, you would grow weak and die. If your blood is tainted, you will wither.

Blood is associated with pain: you see it when you stumble and fall, have an accident, or fight. Blood is also associated with passion: when you love doing something, when you are good at it, it’s ‘in your blood’. Someone you love, particularly family members, are your ‘blood’. Blood connects you to things, or others. Even if you don’t know someone, you can empathize with them, your ‘heart bleeds for them’. Blood is passion, it’s connection, it’s raw emotion.

Blood is life. It courses through your body delivering oxygen and nutrients to every part of you. Blood is energy—when you push yourself, your heart pounds and your pulse races as your blood flows even faster.  A woman bleeds during her menstrual cycle, she bleeds when her hymen breaks, there’s blood at childbirth. If you donate blood you might be saving someone’s life.

Whatever little microscopic bits are floating around in there contain the very essence for all that you are. A scientists can (illegally) clone you if they had just a drop of your blood. Your blood contains your DNA—a blueprint not just for you, but your complete ancestral line.

Something that contains this much power is naturally powerful in magic. Perhaps some would say it’s too powerful.

Blood Magic is Not Blood Sacrifice

Blood Magic: No Harm Necessary

Blood magic is not magic that involves killing people or animals in ritual sacrifice. Let’s just make that clear. We’re not talking about laying some innocent creature out on an altar or in the center of a pentagram and killing it, or wounding it. This would be all kinds of wrong, not to mention illegal, and is not at all what I mean when I talk about blood magic.

Blood magic is the use of a few drops of blood during a spell or ritual—usually your own blood, but if you are casting for someone else you could use theirs (with caution and permission, of course).  Those few drops can add power to a magical working in any number of ways.

Is Blood Magic Evil?

The first thing you need to learn about blood magic is that it’s not inherently evil. Blood isn’t evil, is it? Does it make you ‘evil’ or desire to do malicious deeds just because it’s currently inside your body? If not, why do you think it would it become ‘evil’ outside of your body? Some people mistakenly think that using blood in magic is ‘dark’ or somehow only associated with malevolent intentions. This is simply not true.

The negative connotations stem back to that fear of blood I spoke about earlier: fear of our own mortality, fear of power, etc., are the kind of driving factors behind a fear of blood. Indeed, if you are hemophobic, you might want to avoid blood altogether. It’s not for everyone.

But I come from a more objective perspective. I see blood – like any object or component you would use in magic – as simply a tool. It’s a very powerful tool, but a tool nonetheless. It’s neither benevolent nor malevolent in its own right. You could use it for any number of purposes, though like any other tool it’s not advised to use it for unethical purposes.

Going back to the fire analogy—I could use fire to burn down my neighbor’s home when they piss me off. I have access to fire, which can be a very powerful destructive choice if I choose. So what stops me? The fact that I am an ethical person who has no interest in hurting others. Just because I don’t want to hurt someone with fire doesn’t mean I shouldn’t use it. By the same logic, I don’t want to hurt someone with blood magic; just because I don’t want to cause harm with it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t feel free to utilize this powerful tool.

A good implement to have for blood magic is the prickers that diabetics use to test their blood sugar.

A Little Goes a Long Way

Practicing Safe Blood Magic

Before I begin discussing ways to use blood in magic, let’s discuss ways to use it safely. First, there are a few don’ts to keep in mind:

Don’t ever take more than a few drops

Don’t ever take blood from an unwilling participant (this includes animals because they cannot give consent)

Do not smear your blood on people, let people smear blood on you, or try to exchange blood in any way; remember that many diseases can be transferred through blood

Do not ever consume blood, either directly or by putting it into a drink; aside from the fact that you can catch diseases, blood itself is toxic to human beings. More than a couple of teaspoons can cause haemochromatosis and potentially do some serious organ damage.

Don’t let others drink your blood, either directly raw or by putting it into food or drinks; this is essentially giving your power over to that person, and not in a good way.

The correct way to perform blood magic safely would be:

Sanitize the area of skin with an alcohol pad or sanitizing gel.

Sanitize a small poking implement, such as a pin.

Poke only enough to break the skin.

Squeeze out your few drops to collect for your use

Clean the wound immediately and put some antibiotic ointment on it. If it’s still bleeding, put a bandage on it.

Handle and dispose of anything that has been touched with blood with extreme caution until the end of your ritual or spell.

Disinfect surfaces (of your skin and your work space), implements and any other tools after performing blood magic.

Keep the wound clean as it heals.

If you are a woman and you prefer, you can use your menstrual blood (moon blood, blood of the moon) rather than pricking yourself. You can catch menstrual blood easily with a diva cup if you need to temporarily preserve it for ritual—just don’t hang onto it very long, and all the same sanitary practices regarding care and clean-up also applies.

When (and When Not) to Use Blood Magic

I can't tell you exactly when and where blood magic is your best option, but I can tell you my reasoning: I use it only in extreme need for the most important circumstances.

I’ll use it for protection— not minor protection, such as if my co-worker is a nuisance I’m not going to use blood magic to keep her out way; but major protection, when there is a potential for serious life-changing threats (accident, crime, etc.)

I’ll use it for health and wellness—not minor issues like sore throats or skinned knees, but big health issues like disease, injuries, surgery or breaking unhealthy addictions.

I’ll use it for desperate needs—not minor things like saving money for a Disney trip, but big things like if I were on the verge of being homeless or starving I would use it to draw what I need to survive

That’s about it. I have more rules about when to never use it:

I never use blood magic unless I’m (or the person I’m doing it on behalf of is) fully prepared to accept whatever the consequences may be (which means thinking them through very carefully).

I never use it to target other people without their permission (unless, of course, it’s deadly necessary for protection; I had no issue banishing a violent family member who refused to leave my mother’s home and threatened my life with a gun)

I never use it in love or relationship magic; bonds between people need to be naturally developed, not forced. Blood magic turns a potential bond into a chain: emotional slavery.

I never use it to gain power; if you can’t earn it naturally, you don’t deserve it and probably won’t know how to wield it.

I never use it to bring harm to anyone or anything.

I never use it for vengeance or retaliation

Spell Casting with Blood

Using Blood in Magic

Now that you know the correct way to safely use blood in magic, let’s talk about how you might put it to use. There are countless ways, actually, limited only by your imagination. But here are a few ideas to get you started.

In candle magic, mix blood drops with oil to dress and charge your candle.

Use a small drop or two to anoint and charge any talisman or amulet.

In jar or container magic, add a few drops of blood to the container.

In petition magic, smear some blood on the paper the petition is written on.

Place a drop of blood in a mojo bag before tying it up.

Alternatives to Blood

Though not entirely as powerful as blood, there are other things you can use to personalize a spell and lend it a boost: urine, saliva, semen, nail and hair clippings, for example. These are all effective options that will lend power to minor workings, or workings when blood magic wouldn't be appropriate or advised.

When you're first learning magic, it's advised that you work with these first before graduating on to blood. Take some time, experiment with these things. You'll begin to get a sense of how much putting 'part of yourself' into a spell affects your magic.

Once again, nothing is inherently good or bad—it all depends on how you choose to utilize it. So practice ‘safe magic’ and you'll be okay.

-Mackenzie Sage Wright  

https://exemplore.com/wicca-witchcraft/Witchcraft-for-Beginners-What-You-Should-Know-about-Blood-Magic

artwork: http://evil.wikia.com/wiki/File:The_Blood_Magic.jpg

#witchcraft #wicca #witchcraft for beginners #wicca for beginners #magick #blood magick #moon blood #blood of the moon #safe magick #blood

[mysterylover123]

Maiko + Tropes

Back to Avatar the Last Airbender, where it all started. It’s time to do tropes for my ATLA OTP: Zuko/Mai. Prepare for some teenage grouchiness. (Sourced from TVTropes.) Also, Spoilers

1. ADORKABLE

Mai:  Mai is not normally very adorkable, but around Zuko she gets all giggly and blushy. They express their love in very awkward and adorable ways. The B-story in "Nightmares and Daydreams" is a good example.

Zuko: All of his attempts to be a normal and friendly guy end up charming failures. Notably, he practices an apology to a frog, then proceeds to demand an answer.

2. ANTI-VILLAIN

Mai: Though not to the extent of Ty Lee (what with being a Jerk with a Heart of Gold instead of a straight-on Nice Girl), she is still only going up against the good guys because she works under someone who is evil.

Zuko:  An early episode contrasts him with Zhao, who only wants to find the Avatar to bring himself glory while Zuko was only even there is to complete a mission so his father will love him.

3. BETA COUPLE

Mai:  With Zuko. 

Zuko: With Mai. While Aang and Katara dance around the issue, they're snuggling and watching sunsets. Flipped on its head in the comics, where Zuko and Mai go through a bad breakup while Aang and Katara are relatively stable Sickeningly Sweethearts.

4. BIRDS OF A FEATHER

Mai: With Zuko. They're both perpetually frowning Emo Teens with some kind of family issuewho are from the Fire Nation and use bladed weapons.

Zuko: With Mai. They're both perpetually frowning Emo Teens with some kind of family issue who are from the Fire Nation and use bladed weaponsWith Katara. They're both willful, compassionate, and emotional individuals who lost their respective mothers at a young age and are about equal in terms of bending abilities.

5. BROKEN BIRD

Mai: Her mother treated her like a liability instead of a daughter, was not allowed hobbies or even to speak unless spoken to, and her only friends were Ty Lee and Azula. No wonder Mai is so cynical and bitter.

Zuko: A rare male example; any innocence he had was lost between his father's and sister's abuse.

6. BROODING BOY, GENTLE GIRL

Mai: Zig zagged with Zuko — Both manage to be both with each other. For the brooding part, they both come from a dysfunctional family which led to them becoming Broken Birds but in different ways (Zuko having anger issues and Mai suppressing her emotions). As for the gentle part, both encourage one another to express themselves in healthier, non-problematic ways.

Zuko: Zig zagged with Mai — Both manage to be both with each other. For the brooding part, they both come from a dysfunctional family which led to them becoming Broken Birds but in different ways (Zuko having anger issues and Mai suppressing her emotions). As for the gentle part, both encourage one another to express themselves in healthier, non-problematic ways.Katara is the gentle girl to Zuko's brooding boy - they are a platonic variation of this trope, despite the Ship Tease.There's a very brief moment of this with Toph and Zuko - in "The Ember Island Players", Toph comforts Zuko while he's angsting over his Uncle. They go back to being Like Brother and Sister, though, when she punches him and informs him that "That's how I show affection."

7. CHARLES ATLAS SUPERPOWER

Mai: While turning her back on Azula at the Boiling Rock, she managed to consistently pin several guards onto solid metal architecture, using the same knives with which she attacks everything and everyone else. More passively, she's on even footing with the average elite bender, such as Early-Season-2 Katara and half the Terra Team sent to attack The Drill.

Zuko: While one of the most visibly muscular characters, he once punches a person across a room, and is seen shattering iron, steel, and wood with his kicks. All that training has served him well. Might be a result of Iroh's training: even among the Fire Nation, Iroh and Zuko are the only ones to display superhuman strength unrelated to bending.

8. CHILDHOOD FRIEND  ROMANCE

Mai: In a flashback, we see her admiring Zuko from afar as kids.

Zuko: With Mai. There's a flashback to Puppy Love.

9. DEADPAN SNARKER

Mai: Has a very dry sense of humor.

Zuko: Since Zuko's the most ill-tempered character in the show, this is a given. He's actually a lot like Katara in that respect: particularly sarcastic in books one and two, less so for a part of book three, and then more so for the other half.For instance, after some random kids threw an egg at Earth Kingdom soldiers, they blame Zuko, who continually denies it. It eventually leads to this exchange:Gow: The egg had to come from somewhere! Zuko: Maybe a chicken flew over.He also manages to get in a few good ones at Sokka, of all people:Zuko: I think I'm a little past your level, Sokka. Why don't you practice with the Duke or something. Sokka: The Duke? But he's, like, eight years old! Zuko: He should be a good match for you, then.Even eight-year-old Zuko gets in on the action.Azula : You waste all your time playing with knives. You're not even good! Zuko : Put an apple on your head and we'll find out how good I am!

10. DEFROSTING ICE KING/QUEEN

Mai: Much like her boyfriend, except it takes her longer to thaw.

Zuko:  It takes two and a half seasons, but he thaws with The Power of Friendship.

11. DUDE/CHICK MAGNET

Mai: Besides Zuko, another teen flirted with her in "The Beach", and Kei Lo admits to genuinely liking her.

Zuko: Sometimes in a relationship with Mai. He has loads of Ship Tease with Katara and a temporary love interest in the one-off character of Jin. The comics also have him being ship teased with Suki. Has almost as much onscreen romance as Sokka, plus a fan club and a bunch of random girls that swoon over him at the beach.

12. EERIE PALE SKINNED BRUNETTE

Mai: Emphasizing her emo personality.

Zuko: During the first season, where he has chalk-white skin coupled with a black ponytail. It later evens out slightly; sometimes his hair is dark brown instead of straight black, and he adopts a very slight tan that takes the edge off the eerie. That said, cutting off the ponytail and growing his hair out properly probably also helped.

13. HIDDEN DEPTHS

Mai: The gloomy knife thrower is a Cool Big Sis after off-screen Character Development.

Zuko: Badass, Determinator, Evil Prince -turned- The Atoner, is also a Momma's Boy and a lover of Turtleducks. In the "Ember Island Players", he gives hints that he likes theater, but just dislikes that specific group because while they have great special effects, they tend to butcher their stories. He admits to Toph that he's been doing Angst? What Angst? for some time, but the play is opening some hidden wounds.Toph: "Oh come on. Lighten up. They're just having fun." Zuko: "Fun? Of course you (Toph) like it. They made you a big buff guy! But to me... they're taking all the mistakes I made and throwing them right back in my face."His Uncle has indicated numerous times Zuko is also skilled with the fictional Tsungi horn.

14. JERK WITH A HEART OF GOLD

Mai: Generally quite a jerk but she has a soft spot for Zuko.

Zuko: He's Hot-Blooded and can still be quite rude, but Zuko is a good hearted person.

15. KICK THE DOG

Mai: In her first appearance, she turns down a hostage deal for her own infant brother.In the comics she dishes out a lot of emotional abuse against Zuko, although she still claims to care for him. She jokes about his death, his choice of friends after meeting Aang, and talks about how awful he is in general to Kei Lo.

Zuko: Often when he was in danger of becoming too nice, at least until his formal Heel–Face Turn in Book 3.

16. LONELY RICH KID

Mai: She has no friends other Ty-Lee and Azula, and they were off at the circus or war.

Zuko: He is the banished prince of the Fire Nation, but you can literally count the people who genuinely care for him on one hand (Iroh, Mai and Ursa). Eventually subverted when he makes his Heel–Face Turn, after which he becomes part of Aang's True Companions.

17. LOVE REDEEMS

Mai:  She follows Zuko in Heel–Face Turn because of his turn and her love for him.

Zuko: Averted with Mai. He leaves her before switching to the good side and the two don't reconcile their relationship until after the final battle. Instead it was familial love for Iroh, whom he acknowledges as his true father figure and role model, that redeems him. The shame he feels for betraying his uncle's trust is part of what compels him to make his Heel–Face Turn. He also influenced Mai to follow suit and betray Azula.

18. THE MASOCHISM TANGO

Mai: Her relationship with Zuko is not healthy. The two love each other but their conflicting morals and lack of communication leads to countless fights and their constant break-ups. She spends pages in Avatar: The Last Airbender – Smoke and Shadow describing what a horrible boyfriend Zuko is and how badly a relationship with him had hurt her. This leads to her making harsh jokes at his expense and she expresses the need for her to "move on" by dating Kei Lo.

Zuko: Has this type of relationship with Mai. They love each other but constantly fight, do not understand each other, have different morals and are always breaking up only to get back together again. Mai tells Kei Lo about how miserable Zuko makes her feel and she later says it to Zuko's face about how much of an idiot she was to date him.

19. MEANINGFUL NAME

Mai: Mai is the Cantonese pronunciation of 袂 meaning "sleeve of a robe", which is where Mai conceals her weapons.Her name is phonetically similar to the Japanese mei (冥, めい), meaning "dark", which is relatable to her gloomy personality.

Zuko: Zuko's name is written in Chinese characters which read as "ancestor's robber". It may or may not be intentional, but Zuko is an actual name in a Filipino dialect. Its meaning? "Madness" or "Angry." And he spends a lot of time angry in the show...

20. MUGGLE-MAGE ROMANCE

Mai:  In a relationship with Zuko.

Zuko: In a relationship with non-bender Mai.

21. NEW OLD FLAME

Mai: She and Zuko are a textbook "skip all the boring foreplay and get right to the intensity." Contrast with the heroic Official Couple, who were in the foreplay stage for fifty episodes. In this case we see a flashback of them as Childhood Friends before the reunion.

Zuko: Zuko and Mai are a textbook "skip all the boring foreplay and get right to the intensity." Contrast with the heroic Official Couple, who were in the foreplay stage for fifty episodes. In this case, we see a flashback of them as Childhood Friends before the reunion.

22. NOBLE DEMON

Mai: She may be on Azula's side, but she's not evil.

Zuko: Character Development for him in Season 1. He goes from burning down the Kyoshi Warriors' village in his pursuit of Aang to abandoning a later pursuit to keep his soldiers safe. Even right from the start, he threatens the South Pole villagers to get information on the Avatar but when Aang promises to come quietly if he leaves the Water tribe alone, Zuko agrees (and keeps his word).

23. OPPOSITES ATTRACT

Mai: She and Zuko somehow manage to be this and Birds of a Feather. Despite their apparent similarities, their temperaments are completely opposite: Zuko is a Hot-Blooded Determinator, whereas Mai is an emotionless Defrosting Ice Queen.

Zuko:  He and Mai somehow manage to be this and Birds of a Feather. Despite their apparent similarities, their temperaments are completely opposite: Zuko is a Hot-Blooded Determinator, whereas Mai is an emotionless Defrosting Ice Queen.

24. PERPETUAL FROWNER

Mai: Even when she's cuddling with her boyfriend she's frowning.

Zuko: "I'm never happy." Though it is averted around Mai, and after he joins Team Avatar.

25. RED ONI, BLUE ONI

Mai: The blue to Ty Lee's red. Or, since Ty Lee describes Mai's aura as grey, and hers as pink, Mai's the Grey Oni to Ty Lee's Pink Oni.

Zuko: The emotional, easily angered Red Oni to his sister's calculating, eerily calm Blue Oni, though it's reversed after her Villainous Breakdown. This is enforced by the colors of the Flames they produce; Zuko's flames are red/orange, while Azula's are blue.The hot-tempered, loud Red Oni to Aang's positive, peace-loving Blue Oni, which is visualized through their facial markings (red scar vs. blue tattoos)

26. RELATIONSHIP REVOLVING DOOR

Mai: She is in a constant on-off relationship with Zuko. It's unstable to say the least. They get together only to break things off a few months later. They make up but then decide to call it quits again. It is supposed to be a contrast to Aang and Katara's solid relationship.

Zuko:  His relationship with Mai is complicated and...unstable to say the least. They break up at least twice in the series and once again in the comics.

27. SOUR OUTSIDE SAD INSIDE

Mai: Like Zuko, she acts cold as a result of her past.

Zuko: He may act abrasive, but knowing his past, it's not hard to see why.

28. TALL DARK AND SNARKY

Mai: A raven-haired Snark Knight. It's a trait she shares with Zuko.

Zuko: Tallest teenager in the series with raven hair and a cynical attitude.

29. TOOK A LEVEL IN BADASS

Mai: Mai already established herself as a badass (but quiet and knife obsessed) Lady of War took a level in badass in the episode "The Boiling Rock, Part 2". Mai took out 13 prison guards and freed the gondola line to help Zuko and company escape the boiling rock prison...and Princess Azula. Although this could just be a case of Mai being Not So Stoic.

Zuko: He gradually improves throughout the series, but he makes dramatic improvements in season 3. It's then he learns to redirect the most powerful of lightning, holds his own against his sister, casually raise a huge fire tunnel that engulfs an entire hallway, and most importantly, firebends without relying on rage.

30. UNDYING LOYALTY

Mai: To Zuko. Even when their relationship is on the rocks, she remains loyal. Two instances: the Boiling Rock encounter where Zuko explains his treason and desertion and inspires her to defy Azula herself, and again in the "Rebound" free comic day issue where she discovers her father wants to use her as an insider against Zuko in a bid to put Ozai back on the throne.

Zuko: This is Zuko's greatest weakness and greatest strength. Loyalty kept Zuko on the side of his father and sister long after he stopped seeing things their way, but when he finally made up his mind to join Aang, he took a lot of punishment from them without complaint to win their trust, and he protected them over and over. In the sequel, Zuko abdicated the throne, naming his daughter Fire Lord, so that he could travel the world after Aang's death, to keep their dream alive while the Avatar could not.

31. WHEN HE/SHE SMILES

Mai: Just like her boyfriend, she frowns so often that she looks really cute when she smiles genuinely.

Zuko:  The poor guy is frowning so often (and for good reason), the few times he gives a genuine smile are really heartwarming.

32. WELL, EXCUSE ME PRINCESS

Mai: To Zuko. She doesn't put up with his angsting.

Zuko: Something of a male version of this trope in regards to Mai. She doesn't put up with his brooding and temperamental nature, instead encouraging him to lighten up.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #mai x zuko #zuko #maiko #atla maiko #mai #TV Tropes #parallels #atla shipping #atla #tropes #shipping