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kanerallels · 3 years

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OKAY OKAY ROUND TWO OF THIS! Kanera fix it or Kanera and waffles! Whichever works <3

*has no self control* *writes my first fix it* This was hecking fun! I hope you enjoyed it!

Pairing: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla

Word Count: 2,455

Tags/Warning: rated T (for time travel! *insert Hulk gif here*) and also near death

This wasn’t how Kanan wanted things to end.

He'd wanted more time. He'd wanted to explain things to Hera, to tell her how much she meant to him.

But things had moved too fast for him. Kanan was too late.

He felt the heat of the fire from the fuel pod singing the tips of his fingers, and concentrated on pushing it back with all his strength, his hands shaking slightly and his face twisting with the effort. The fire billowed high above him, but Kanan wasn’t afraid. Just full of regrets.

Behind him, he heard Hera scream his name, her voice full of raw desperation and fear. Kanan knew, without even needing to look, that she would run towards him and she did, her steps barely audible above the roar of the flames.

Turning without looking, Kanan diverted part of his concentration and caught her in her steps, holding her back with the Force. He felt her struggle against the grip, panic and fear pulsing through her.

Slowly, on some instinct he didn’t understand, he turned to face Hera. Maybe it was because of how much he ached to see her. Maybe it was to give her one last glimpse of him. Kanan sensed her desperation, her fear, how much she wanted to reach him.

But he couldn’t let her. There was too much at stake. So with a quick thrust, he sent her flying back to where Ezra was waiting, ready. His apprentice caught hold of her, holding her back. Kanan felt a flicker of gratitude-- he could always count on Ezra.

An odd tingling sensation swept across his eyes, and for a moment he thought he was crying. But crying had been impossible ever since Malachor. Since he’d been blinded.

Even as he thought the word, it was like a cloud was swept away from his eyes, and he could see. Kanan had no idea how, but he accepted it calmly, as he’d accepted his fate.

His gaze locked onto Hera first-- Hera, clad in an orange prisoner’s jumpsuit, a look of complete horror and fear in her eyes, with the slightest hint of surprise and awe as she looked at him. Kanan took her in, drinking in the very sight of her. She was older than she had been when they’d first met, and had only grown more beautiful. And Kanan had only grown more in love with her.

Behind her, holding her back, was Ezra-- Force, Ezra. He was so tall, so grown-up looking. Kanan was well aware he’d only ever pictured the little boy from Lothal, and he felt pride stirring in his heart. Stay safe, kid, he thought. You know what to do. I love you both.

And so he released his hold on the flames and used all his power and strength to send the ship that held Ezra, Sabine, and Hera flying away from the fuel depot. It would be enough. It had to be enough.

They would be safe. And they would keep fighting. Hera always did.

That was Kanan’s last thought before the flames swallowed him.

But it wasn’t his last thought.

Even as the fire swirled around him, he heard a strange whoosh, and the sound of boots impacting on metal, and suddenly the fire was gone. And Kanan was somewhere else entirely.

“Did it work?”

A young male voice came from behind Kanan, stunned but excited.

“Of course it worked, idiot, he’s not dead and we still exist,” said a dry female voice that sounded… bizarrely familiar. Almost like--

Kanan turned towards the sound and someone tackled him to the ground, slapping a hand over his eyes. “Sorry, sorry-- eyes closed,” the young man ordered. “If you look, I’ll tell Hera.”

“What does that even mean?” Kanan demanded-- although it was a fairly compelling argument. Trying to shove the young man off of him, he said “Who are you? What are you doing?”

“Saving you, you dumb--”

The young man cleared his throat loudly, cutting off the woman. “We were sent here to save your life.”

“What?” Kanan’s jaw dropped, surprise flashing through him. “Wha-- no, I was supposed to die. It had to happen, to save Hera and Ezra and Sabine--”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, the woman said, “They’re FINE, trust me. Well, other than the fact they think you’re dead.”

The young man groaned. “Okay, you should probably stop talking now. I’ll handle this.”

“You’re not much more diplomatic than me!”

“Everyone’s more diplomatic than you, Depa.”

“Depa?” Kanan asked, a frown knitting his forehead.

He heard his two rescuers freeze, and a muttered curse. “Yeah,” the young man said cautiously. “That’s her name.”

“That was my master’s name,” Kanan said, his mind racing. There was no way that could be a coincidence. Sure, there were probably other people in the galaxy named Depa, but--

“You can probably stop sitting on him-- he’ll behave,” Depa said dryly. “Right, Jarrus? That means keep your eyes close, and NO PEEKING or I’ll punch you out.”

“You can’t punch him out,” the young man said with a sigh.

“Why, because he’s an old geezer? I’m not afraid to hit an old man.”

Kanan sensed the young man rolling his eyes. “He’s not even that old right now! Okay, I’m gonna let you up-- please keep your eyes closed.”

The young man scrambled off of him, and Kanan slowly rose to his feet, wincing. He’d been burned, he could feel that much-- his hands, the back of his neck and his face especially. But somehow, impossibly, he was alive.

“I-- thank you,” he said. “I don’t know how or why you saved me, but thank you.”

“Someone had to,” Depa said, her voice surprisingly sincere. “And Force knows you needed help.”

“True,” the young man agreed. “But we don’t have all day here-- we need to get you back.”

“Back?” Kanan asked.

“Back to Hera and everyone else,” the young man elaborated. “If you follow us, we can get you out of here and back to them. They should be expecting you. Hopefully. We’re pretty sure Ezra warned them.”

“Reassuring,” Kanan said, keeping his eyes shut. “Which way are we going? And where are we, exactly?”

“This way,” Depa said, giving his shoulder a slight nudge in the right direction. As Kanan started walking, she added, “And we’re in some dumb alternate dimension.”

“It’s a world between worlds,” the young man corrected from ahead of them. “And it was really hard to get here. You wouldn’t believe all the stuff we had to do to get here. But it led us to where you were, which makes it worth it.”

“Why?” Kanan asked, releasing the question he’d been turning over in his mind. “Why did you come to save me? Why you in particular?”

He heard the young man’s footsteps stutter, like he’d paused in his steps. “Oh. Um…”

“Subtle, Jacen,” Depa said sarcastically.

“Jacen?” Kanan felt a grin cross his face. “So that’s your name.”

Jacen let out a sigh. “Nice one, Depa. Look, D-- Kanan. You’re… really important. To a lot of people. And they couldn’t just lose you if there was something that could be done.”

“So we did it,” Depa said matter of factly. “As you do. Oh, we’re here! This is your stop.”

They came to a halt, and Kanan sensed… something. Like a light at the end of a hallway, beckoning him forward. “And this is where I’m supposed to go?” he said warily. “It’s safe?”

“Trust me,” Jacen said. “She’s on the other side. Hera is. Your family is waiting for you.”

Kanan nodded slowly, his mind spinning. Despite the obvious strangeness of this whole thing, the way it had caught him off guard, there were a few things that he had a strange feeling about. Like he was two steps away from putting something together, something incredibly important. “Wait-- before I go through there. Will I be able to see?”

“I-- oh. No,” Depa said, her voice soft, almost shaken. “You never could after Lothal. That was the last time.”

“Then I at least want to see the faces of the pair that saved my life,” Kanan said. “If you’re alright with it.”

“I’m not sure--” Jacen began.

“Oh, shut up and let him,” Depa said, her voice exasperated. “What’s the worst that could happen? Besides, I-- I want him to.”

There was a short pause, then Jacen sighed. “I know. Me, too. Okay, go ahead.”

Kanan’s eyes flicked open. He was in what looked like outer space-- pure black, only broken up by strange white lines outlining paths. And, every now and then, circular doorways. “Huh,” Kanan murmured, his gaze sweeping across the place. And then it landed on the duo standing in front of him, and his eyes widened in surprise.

They were both a couple years younger than him. Jacen was a tall young man, tan-skinned except where it was green, especially along his pointed ears. His long hair, tied back in a ponytail, and scruffy goatee were a deep shade of green, and his eyes were almost an almost disturbingly familiar shade of turquoise.

Depa was a young Twi’lek woman with green skin, pink patches here and there. Her eyes were brown, and widened slightly with shock as they met his. “He really does have your eyes,” she said, her voice stunned.

“Wow,” Kanan breathed, any doubt in his mind swept away. “Are-- are you two-- Wow. Words fail me.”

Depa let out a snort. “Same here. But about that haircut. Mom was right, it really is awful. Worse than the one Jacen gave himself when he was eleven. It was really bad, be glad you didn’t see it.”

Kanan chuckled, then glanced at Jacen. “I-- and you two came here to save me?”

Jacen shrugged. “We wouldn’t exist if we didn’t. Well, I would, but Depa wouldn’t, and that’s a downside. Kinda.”

Depa punched him in the arm, and Jacen let out a yelp, darting away from her as she took another swing at him, and Kanan could only shake his head because of what he was watching. “This is unbelievable.”

“I mean. Not that unbelievable,” Jacen pointed out, a smile crossing his face that Kanan had seen a thousand times in the seat next to his own.

“Wow. You look… just like your mom. Both of you.”

Jacen’s eyes went wide. “R-really? Um. Everyone says I look like… you.”

“That is Hera Syndulla’s smile right there,” Kanan said, and he knew it to his core. “Looks just like hers. But yeah, I can see our resemblance. Well. For now.”

The smile faded off of Jacen’s face, and he said in a low voice, “We can’t stay.”

Nodding, Kanan said, “I know. I should probably get going, too. Just--” he paused, looking at his children for the last time. “I’m proud of you two already.”

“That is so typical of you,” Depa said, rolling her eyes in a completely Hera movement. “Do you have any idea how many kids you’re gonna adopt? Hint-- it’s a lot.”

“No spoilers,” Jacen ordered. “We should go. But before we do--” he turned to Kanan. “When the time comes, tell Ezra that he doesn’t have to be you. He has to be him, and no one else.”

“Oh, and don’t worry,” Depa said breezily. “You’ll find him eventually.”

“Wait, what? What does that mean?” Kanan demanded.

“You’re about to find out,” Depa said with a wink, and that, Kanan knew, she’d gotten from him.

Leaning forward, Jacen said, “She’s your most infuriating child. Yes, more so than the Mandalorian.”

Kanan shook his head, grinning. “I can’t wait for you two to come along. I really can’t.”

Shrugging, Depa said, “You might not have to wait that long. Now get out of here, we’ve all got places to be.”

“Right.” Kanan turned towards the doorway, which was a blank white, and glanced back at his kids one more time. “May the Force be with you,” he told them.

“You always say that,” Jacen said with a slight grin. “See you soon, Dad.”

Kanan nodded, then stepped through the doorway.

Everything was dark as he stumbled out into what was some kind of clearing, or something. But he felt the sunlight on his face, and knew why it was. His eyesight was gone again, and he was okay with that.

A shriek cut through his thoughts, and he jerked his head up as someone shouted his name. “Kanan!”

It was Hera, her voice holding shock and joy and love, and Kanan heard her run towards him. But this time, he was running, too, and felt her slam into him. “You’re here,” she choked out, a sob shaking her body. “Ezra was right. I didn’t think--”

Kanan cut her off with a kiss, pulling her closer as she kissed him back. Breaking away from the kiss, he whispered, “I love you, too.”

Hera let out a shaky laugh. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear those words, love.”

“I-- wait.” Kanan froze. “How long was I gone? How long since the fuel depot?” Panic raced through him.

“Only three months,” Hera assured him, clearly catching his fear. “You’ve missed a lot. There’s some things we should talk about.”

“I bet,” Kanan muttered. “Okay, let’s go talk.”

Hera stepped away from him, but caught hold of his hand so she could lead him. “Right this way, dear.”

Kanan relished the sound of her voice as he walked with her, willing to wait through whatever they had to talk about next.

Well. Almost willing. “There’s… one thing that I have to ask you,” he said. “There was this weird thing that happened while I was gone-- it’s a long story. But something that happened made me think-- it might be stupid, but I just need to ask--”

Cutting him off, Hera said, “Just ask, love.”

“Right.” Taking a quick breath, Kanan asked, “Are you… pregnant?”

He felt her stop in her tracks, shock radiating through her. “I--” Hera paused, then let out a sigh. “I was planning on telling you myself, you know. Not sure I should be thanking your Jedi instincts on this one. But… yes. I’m pregnant.”

Holy. Kriff. “I’m gonna be a dad,” Kanan whispered, the words surreal but beautiful. They were real. I actually saw my kids. Which means-- Jacen.

A smile slipping across his face, he bent down and kissed Hera again. He knew things had to have changed, and he had a lot to catch up on. But he was with the woman he loved, and he had a lifetime to look forward to. They could handle it together.

#kanan jarrus #swr #star wars rebels #hera syndulla #star wars #kanera #kanera is love kanera is life #jacen syndulla #depa jarrus #kanera oc child #swr fan fic #111 followers celebration #this is late but i had to publish it before kanera week. i had to!#but it's also the last celebration fic! go me!#sorry it took so long #kanan lives au #it was dope. the end

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justforthehe11ofit · 3 years

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‘Until Death Do Us Part, Again.’ Julian Devorak x Reader

(Chapter 1: A Very Warm Welcome)

Now finished!

This is part of a multi-chapter fic, If you would like to read the rest you can read it on my AO3 page which is the same username as on here! Or click the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32643664

'His words warble as his emotions take hold, tears staining his cheeks while he grasps the apprentice tighter, "I will never let you go again, my love. I promise."' Continuing after the tale 'A Warm Welcome', Julian struggles to fight his doubts on whether a proposal while staying in Nevivon is a good idea, missing the opportunity in the hot springs and of course causing more trouble than he can handle (at least he asks for help this time).

A headcanon that I have inspired by the assumptions of others in which they thought Julian was going to propose during the hot springs scene, where he is given another opportunity eventually... not without creating problems for himself beforehand. That would be un-Julian like.

Word Count: 1,641

As soon as he mumbles the words, Portia incredulously glares down at Julian across the table, barely taller than him as she stands, while he shrinks into his chair. “Excuse me? Could you repeat that because I don’t think I heard you right.”

“I… didn’t do it?...” Leaning across the table with his hands joined and bunching up his shoulders, Julian plasters on an award winning pity grin, which of course Portia does not buy into.

“What do you mean ‘you didn’t do it’?” Nasally mocking his excuse.

“I-I just didn't, okay!” He drops his head into his hands, with an exasperated sigh and brows furrowed, “I wanted to but it was as if my hands didn’t want to cooperate and gave into my own nervousness, so I just didn’t do it.”

After returning from the hot springs, Julian and the apprentice had finished cleaning the remains of dinner, just chatting and enjoying each other’s company, until Portia had strolled in. As she was seeping with anticipation, Julian told Y/N he would join them soon for sleep, and so was left to be bombarded with questions about if he had gone through with what he had told Portia a few days before departing from Vesuvia.

Motioning her arms outward, Portia states “you know you had the perfect opportunity, right?”

“I know.” Mumbling the pitiful words into his hands, slumping further.

“You two had the whole place to yourselves AND on a night as beautiful as this! And you didn’t go for it?”

“I know!” Arms lying flat, exclaiming his sorrows into the dining table.

“I mean, how often does a perfect opportunity like that happen? Are you that thick in the head, Ilyushka!”

He raises his head to address her, “Yes, I know! Thank you Pasha, I get it!” Then presses his cheek to the smooth cloth covering. Taking a moment to calm the air, Julian reaches into his pocket and pulls out the ring he had bought a couple weeks prior to leaving, twirling it in his fingers.

He had spotted the red glint in a jeweller’s shop window on his way home from visiting the Palace, not the most flashy ring he’d ever seen but the tone of the ruby’s colour made him pause. When he had gotten home he couldn’t stop thinking about it for days, the image of it popping into his head from even a blush that would dust the cheeks of his partner. It’s strange to think about how something so small can hold such an overwhelming promise to it.

Passing a faint sigh, Portia pulls out a wooden chair across from Julian and sits, just watching the ring catch the glow of the gentle candle light. His mouth is set in a subtle frown and his silver eyes distant. “I’m sorry, I just supposed that when you had excused yourself it was because you were going to propose to them.” He still seems conflicted. She asks hesitantly, “do you... want to?”

Julian raises his head, “of course I do, I’ve never felt this way for anyone before. I’m over the moon for them!” He stops fiddling with the ring, placing it out in front of him and resting his chin against his palm, leaving the other to lie on the table, not saying more.

“And yet?” This makes him look away, thinking her question over.

“I think,” he pauses, “it may just be too soon to ask them. Considering everything that has happened between myself and Y/N, and even everyone else.” Julian’s gaze holds on the jewellery, and he shrugs, “I feel it may just be too much for them emotionally. We still have so much to process, it’s only been just over a month or two since things finally settled.” He sighs dejectedly, “even with this time of reprieve we’ve had, things have still been crazy with plans to rebuild the city, me running the clinic, Y/N running the shop and then traveling to Nevivon. It just still seems like it’s been so much to handle.” His eyebrows furrow and his frown becomes prominent, and he covers the ring with his hand, “I don’t even know if this is what they would want.”

Portia watches intently, mirroring Julian’s expression. She gently covers his hand with hers and leans over gaining his attention, his eyes widening, “trust me, they would say yes in a heartbeat. You two took down the Devil together for crying out loud! Give or take myself, Asra, Nadia, Maz and Nazali but that’s not my point,” she states as Julian raises a brow at her comment. “What I’m trying to say is that you two have already been to hell and back, so I wouldn’t doubt that if you went to them right now and asked, they wouldn’t hesitate to say yes.” Julian manages a smile at that, his cheeks reddening. The mood growing lighter at last. “I mean if we are being honest, you two have technically known each other for years, right?”

“Well, considering we did work together during the plague, you could say we have.” His smile falls a little, “although those memories are lost to them now.”

“And? Go make new ones with them then,” Portia lifts Julian’s hand, takes the ring and places it back, then she wraps his hand around it and holds it together, “we’re going to be here for a while yet so I’m sure there will be another chance to pop the question to Y/N and not have you sabotage yourself again.” She stands satisfied, leaving Julian to laugh at her jab.

“Hah, well I suppose you’re right.” He secures the ring back in his pocket, standing as well to head to bed.

“Of course I am, but pep-talks with you are draining so you got off lucky. Next time, I’ll kick the back of your knees and put you in a head-lock instead. It’s less effort and more effective.” With that, she heads out the door and to her allocated room, leaving Julian concerned but thankful.

He blows out the candle, allowing the moonlight to guide him to the room the Grandma’s gave to Y/N and himself to stay in while they are visiting Nevivon. Carefully, he turns the handle on the modest door and peeks in to make sure he doesn’t disturb his partner if they’re already asleep. And to his delighted surprise, they’re sitting against the head of the bed reading a book.

“What are you still doing awake, my dear? It’s late.” Despite telling them this, he’s glad he gets to say goodnight to them of course.

“Mmhmm, so I’m not allowed to stay up, but you are then?” A raised brow and a smirk grace their face as if mimicking Julian’s signature expression. Despite only living together for a relatively short amount of time, both have picked up mannerisms from the other. Bonding over little sayings that the apprentice may tell him where he now notices that he repeats in other conversations from time to time, while Y/N has been able to think of more quips to outwit Julian, and he is more than delighted when they can go into a back-and-forth teasing match until one of them ultimately loses. But it’s hardly ever a loss as one of them will usually glow red in the cheeks. Or that it will lead to other activities.

He grins at them.“Yes?”

They stare at him a little longer, until they break with a giggle. “Just come to bed already.”

Julian gingerly closes the door and strolls over to his side of the bed, sitting on the edge and tasks himself with getting his boots off and pyjamas on. “Portia seemed eager before I left.” Y/N states.

This makes Julian halt for a moment. Did they hear him and Portia talking in the kitchen? Were they too loud? Did Julian just ruin his chances at ever giving Y/N the ring while revealing his true feelings and now they want to leave him and never see him again? “Uhm, yeah. I suppose she was.”

“Is she okay?” Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap.

“She’s… fine. Yeah she just wanted to tell me about how there is going to be a special town event next week.” Julian has only managed to get his left boot off. Maybe if he made a run for it now he could steal a boat and travel to another city, take a new identity and start fresh to save himself from the grave he was currently digging for himself.

“Oh really! What’s the occasion?” Y/N now has their sole attention on this mystery event that Julian has sprung onto them and alarm bells are going off in his head wishing he had just said she was okay and called it a night.

He feels sweat running down his neck. “Uh, it’s a surprise.” Portia is going to kill him when he tells her about this. “Yes, a surprise event that they hold every now and then! I guess the town thinks that our arrival here is as good a time as any to hold it.” Finally Julian manages to get his other boot off and slip out of his clothes into his pajamas. Oh there is no going back now.

“That sounds amazing! I can’t wait for it, I’m sure it will be a night to remember.” Y/N snuffs out the candle with a whisper of magic while Julian slips into bed and opens his arms to embrace them as they settle their head on his chest, holding each other close and sharing a kiss goodnight.

Julian finishes by saying, “yes, a night to remember for sure.” He’s not sure if he will be able to rest well tonight.

He is very much in trouble.

#the arcana #the arcana julian #fanfic #yes I did stay up until 4am doing this #julian devorak x reader #the arcana x reader #portia devorak #the apprentice #julian devorak x mc

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etheriadearie · 4 years

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Shadow Weaver’s Death, Her True Abusiveness, And Her Final, Beautiful, Gift To Catra

::The resistance fighters stand in the failsafe chamber. Catra has just called Shadow Weaver out on her manipulation. Shadow Weaver reluctantly explains the danger of the failsafe, and then implores Adora to take it: even if she fails, Shadow Weaver says, she will save her friends, and the universe. As literally every other person in that room cries out against Adora taking the risk, Adora turns and says she will do it. Catra, dismayed, runs to her telling her that Shadow Weaver is sacrificing her, and demands to know why she's letting her do that. Adora tells Catra "Because even if she is, it's better than Prime getting the Heart and destroying the universe." Catra trembles in deathly fear, her face consumed in terrible realization: if Adora does as SW wishes, she will die. Shadow Weaver is trying to kill Adora. She knows this to her very soul, because... she is Shadow Weaver... And Adora is letting it happen…

Hi there, my name is Joel, and in this segment I'll be looking at Shadow Weaver's death, her being a child abuser, her terrible manipulations of Catra and Adora and the monstrous pains the two girls have to conquer to save themselves from her.

The main premise I'll be trying to explain here is that, like Horde Prime, Shadow Weaver is a villain of utmost seriousness. And, like Horde Prime, the girls will treat her as one, surpassing and defeating her once and for all. But it won't be with violence, but instead with love, creating a beautiful story of two people transcending their trauma and hurt through coming together over their love for one another.

I feel obliged to warn readers: this post will cover child abuse, even predatation (*not sexual, ie). It may be hard to read. Also warning: tl;dr, please consider at least sitting down to read this!

Finally, I know there are Shadow Weaver fans out there; that's good. Shadow Weaver is, at times, cool af. But, definitively a terrible person within the plot of the show.

So, even if you're a fan of Shadow Weaver, I still encourage you to read along because as we reveal her truth and the damage she deals to Catra and Adora, it makes her final moment so, so much more beautiful… and it gives entirely new meaning to her final... two… words….

Disclaimer time: Taking on Shadow Weavers death is ambitious for a first post, I know. But understanding her is crucial to understanding most of the major moments in this show. Still, I should say here that while this may seem a bit ‘head’ canon-y, I assure you my conclusions come from watching the show carefully and referencing the entirety of the rest of the show back to this one moment. I'm instead positing these as theories, and let's just say I feel I have the data, and Data Never Lies! Please *do* ask questions or seek calcifications in the comments or Ask me anything (I'm new to Tumblr).

----Part 1: Catra, Micah, and the Truth----

To start this journey we will travel backwards in the series to investigate the what and why of the terrible child abuse Catra suffered growing up under Shadow Weaver's care. We will be looking chiefly at the Light Spinner episode in the 2nd season. We will cover Catra's confrontation and SW's -supposed- explanation for her abuse, then the tale of Micah and Shadow Weaver's manipulation of him, and then the terrible truth of why Catra -really- was abused.

>A terribly alone Catra asks her abusive mother why she did it. Why did she treat her so badly ?

Shadow Weaver answers: "Because you remind me of myself. You always have. Nothing was ever easy for me either. I wasn't born to power like Adora and... others. I had to earn my power, fight for it. Why should it be any different for you?"

This is a very typical reason for an abuser to feel they are acting out their abuse on others: no one in this world understands my pain, so therefore I will inflict my pain upon a child so that they will know my pain as well. For many people this is essentially the truth of their abusers. I can't see any other reason for MY abusers to do what they did, other than this. It is, however, not the truth about Catra. We will discuss this in detail later.

We then watch as Catra does a very strong and eloquent job of rejecting and condemning it. She shows great emotional pain as she does so, and we know that her trauma is severe from watching her. Catra exclaims, her face full of emotional hurt and pain at Shadow Weaver's betrayal: "I was a child when you took me in. What could I have possibly done to deserve the way you treated me? I am nothing like you. You are old, and bitter, and weak."

Everything she says is perfectly true. As a child, there is no way she could have deserved the abuse Shadow Weaver inflicted on her. There never is. And she's also right when she says she's not anything like Shadow Weaver. Where Shadow Weaver is an unfeeling monster (as we will see), Catra feels deeply. Catra is inherently good, and while she will make terrible mistakes to come, she feels intense remorse. Shadow Weaver simply does not.

So, Shadow Weaver gives Catra a believable reason for the abuse, which, again, is a lie. But... there is meaning which we need to take from her choice of words: Shadow Weaver feels others, like Adora and Micah, are given an unfair advantage over people like herself. We will come back to this important insight soon...

Before we get to the real, harsh truth of why Catra was abused, we need to understand the tale of Micah and ‘Light Spinner’-‘s manipulation of him to get power.

>The story of Micah seems to be full of whimsy and childlike innocence. A young boy is talented beyond his years, a true prodigy. SW trains him, giving him access to teachings beyond what a sorcerer of his age should have. She tells him he's special, a true talent, like her. When she tells him "the guild needs talents like OURS more than ever before" she manipulates him, making him feel apart, better than all the other students and teachers, and that only SW can understand. It's SW's greatest talent: dividing people against each other, and this is part of her lifelong manipulation of Catra and Adora. Note: Castaspella accuses SW of mind controlling Micah (s5e8) to which SW responds "My gifts were always far subtler than that” - SW controls young Micah through mind games.

>SW hints of something of great importance, but then says "you're not ready". Micah demands to know, he's a special boy after all, right? He's so incredibly naive and innocent, doing things like chewing on magic crystals and acting out in class. He is, in fact, exactly the kind of privileged child who SW so greatly hates. This is where we get real meaning out of SW's supposed explanation for abusing Catra: Micah has inborn power that SW feels he is unworthy of possessing...

She preys upon his naiveness, showing him the Horde army. He, of course, demands they be stopped, and he's playing right into her hands. When she tells him the plan and of the upcoming meeting she tells him "I only hope that Norwyn and his followers can see the threat as clearly as YOU do." Again, she is making him feel apart, as though he's better than others. After all, he's a special little prodigy, right ?

SW gives her presentation at the council, trying to prey upon their fear by saying that the Horde have a rune stone. As she speaks of the spell of obtainment, her eyes are full of lust at the idea of so much power. But it is forbidden, and for good reason. As she looks over her shoulder at Norwyn her look is severe, accusing. She has no respect for him. And he's right to say that the problem will be handled: the war, in fact, does become a stalemate and stays that way all the way up until we are first introduced to Catra and Adora. Angrily, greedily, she demands they get power so they can 'have a planet to protect'.

She fails to convince them, but of course Micah sees her leaving the meeting, angry and frustrated, so he comes to her aide. "They never listen to me. After all I've done I still haven't earned their trust". Again, SW is set apart from them. When she says "they just want to hold the rest of us back" she's including Micah, making him feel separate, better, like her. She's indoctrinating him in her plan.

>We get a scene between Catra and SW here, where Catra tries to get SW to give her a reason to save her. All SW wants to know is when she's being sent to Beast Island: she realizes she has to escape that night. She sets out to manipulate Catra into giving her the reagent she needs to escape. SW talks up how weak and powerless she is, preying on Catra's lingering pity, desire for connection. A emotionally desperate Catra unfortunately gives it to her. Catra tells her "you don't get to ask things of me anymore" but she's desperate and depressed, feeling totally alone after so recently seeing Adora and consequently nearly dying the episode before, only to be saved by Scorpia's caring about her.

>And apprehensive Micah asks SW if she's sure this is a good idea. She tells him "WE need this power, it's the only way to protect our people". It's a lie, but Micah thinks he's special because he's SW's apprentice, and so he agrees to do it.

As the spell begins to work, we see a terrifying eldritch horror type of creature summoned. It soon breaks free even as Micah helps SW try to contain it. SW acts surprised to see it, but she always knew this spell. Micah runs, and SW stays, yelling angrily at Micah for leaving. She experiences fear as it consumes her, but she knows it's part of getting her power. This is the price she pays to become powerful. She tells Micah he betrayed her by abandoning her and yet, what other possible outcome was there but for them BOTH to be destroyed or corrupted? Norwyn tries to stand up to her, telling her "bringing you into our ranks was a grave mistake". She counters calling him a fool. "You're all weak. None of you deserve my help".

I often see people say this show doesn't show death, but what happens next is undeniably so: it is murder. She annihilates two sorcerer's in one hit, consumes the head sorcerer to give her more magical power. It is pure evil. As she realizes her new power she exclaims "The spell worked. I am stronger than ALL of you." She menaces Micah.

This. Was. Always. The. Plan. The spell worked, she says so herself. Micah tries to defend himself weakly against her, he's entirely at her mercy. He expects death, but instead she caresses his cheek, touches his ear. Then she gives him a look of disdain. It's no mistake she covers half her face even at this point in her history, so we can't know her full emotions. But it's clear, she condescends to him: he was a naive little pawn, not meant to survive, or at minimum, he was supposed to become corrupted like her. But it doesn't matter. She got what she wanted. So she leaves him to live knowing what he's done. The tale of ‘Light Spinner’ has ended: her better persona was just an illusion, useful in her goal of obtaining more power. An empowered Shadow Weaver then shows up at the Fright Zone, killing the guard as a demonstration of power. She declares herself for Hordak, and at least a partial truth is apparent: she wanted the vampiric power so she could channel the Black Garnet. Changing sides bothers SW not at all.

I point out SW’s violence because it is the only time they show any graphic death in this show, and it's therefore meant to show that SW is different, and dangerous. There really was no ‘Light Spinner’, as at multiple moments during her time at Mystacor her true emotions show through (such as pic1, top) and they are both vile and malicious, to put it lightly. Furthermore, note that SW going to the Horde doesn't end up ensuring their victory over the princesses, so yes, in fact, SW was lying to Micah all along. Last, keep in mind Micah’s opinion of her later on: SW is never to be trusted.

Now it's time to get back to the real reason Catra was abused and it's important implications for Adora's abuse as well.

>The scene following Catra's confrontation with SW, we see baby Adora having just arrived in the Fright Zone. SW walks past her, not particularly interested... and yet she sees something in her. And so she takes interest. She knows, in some way, that Adora will wield powerful magic, and since it also becomes clear to us that SW knows all about the past history of She-ra and the Heart of Etheria, it's a logical jump to say she probably thinks Adora is She-ra. Either way, Adora is a powerful orphan child with inborn talent beyond any normal expectation.

Sound familiar? The tale of Micah is there to inform this moment: SW meeting baby Adora. She is in a position to wield ultimate control over a magically privileged child. And the implications are not good...

Apologies to readers here, this next part is intense. Just a quick warning. The total implication of this is that SW never loved Adora, just like she didn't care about Micah. It is all manipulation, and it should be noted that at this point SW has switched to a full mask, conveniently hiding all emotion except a sliver of her eyes (as well as hiding her corrupted features). It's now almost entirely impossible to accurately read her emotions. I don't think she wants you to, as she really has no feelings of actual compassion. She only sees Adora as a privileged child she will use and then discard for her own power.

This means she is, in fact, a child predator. In this case, she's a predator of children of privilege, but the effect is the same: she sees such children as easy targets for her to manipulate for her own gain. Worse, the strong emotional feelings which Adora naturally feels towards those around her makes her easier to control, and SW manipulates this vulnerability against her, as a child and then again as they are headed for the failsafe.

So, returning to the real truth of why SW abused Catra. Let's take a look back at Catra’s condemnation of SW's explanation for her abuse, and it's just one line we need to understand: "I was a child, what could I have possibly done to deserve the way you treated me?" As it turns out, Catra -did- do something, and you have to adore and appreciate this show because we don't get this answer until the very end. Before season 5 was available, it would simply be impossible to understand Catra's story fully. The creators want you to come full circle of so many understandings, the story is that deep.

It's that one, beautiful, follow on line when Catra confesses her love to Adora- She says "I always have"...

Adora was Shadow Weaver's tool, her next prey. So, along comes Catra, who experiences romantic love for Adora right from the start. Beautiful, total love and devotion. SW sees this, and she decides that she can't let Catra be a hindrance to her plans. And yet she knows she can't kill Catra outright or risk losing Adora's affection. So she hurts Catra, tries to make her weak, to diminish her. She is trying to crush Catra's spirit, her will to live, all while making sure to instill a sense of duty and ambition in Adora which makes her less available to Catra. The abuse works, but not on Catra. Catra stays loyal to Adora, and is so secretly strong within herself in such a way that SW fails to destroy her spirit, although Catra has such incredible trauma from it that we see her struggle with it throughout the rest of the series.

But the abuse does work on Adora and so she grows apart from Catra in such a way that Catra eventually comes to feel Adora doesn't love her. And when Adora so clearly breaks the final half of the promise she made to Catra, Catra too, grows apart from Adora.

Catra therefore represents a person in this story who would have been so entirely below SW's notice that had she not loved Adora the way she did, SW would never have taken the time to hurt her. It wouldn't have been worth her time, and Catra would have had a happy(ish) childhood if not for loving Adora. By the way, this truth of SW's abuse of Catra is indeed confirmed in the show, but we don't have time to cover it here and it deserves its own theory post, anyways.

Before we get back to s5 let's take a brief moment to address SW's abuse of Adora: Adora is the kind of person who can't help but empathetically feel the pain of others when they feel it, and it's what makes her to be so unable to balance her own needs against those of others who are hurting. And so SW making Adora have ambition, to want to win at the expense of others, is actually a frightening manipulation. SW teaches Adora to believe she has to do this in order to be the leader, and then as the leader she must protect everyone else from harm. Adora goes on to show great emotional confusion over this, as she doesn't really feel she’s qualified to be that leader. It makes her feel alone from everyone else, and makes Adora worry about every decision she makes. SW essentially saddles Adora with a lonely burden of leadership, one which she's not well suited for. Adora has a very ADHDish (I’m no expert on ADHD) response to this where she bounces around trying to satisfy everyone else’s feelings, such as within their unit, and so her relationship with Catra suffered because of this.

To sum up, the abuses SW inflicts on the two of them results in their division from each other, and it's a division which tries to tear down both girls spiritually throughout this series. They each have specific traumas relating to Shadow Weaver's abuse of them. These are different, damaging fears SW instilled in each of them to make them easier to control. Because of this, both girls contribute to their separation to the two different sides of the war, and it's only through the great emotional learning of each of them that they are able to start putting it back again in season 5. And so, we will see that when SW returns in season 5, she immediately tries to pick up where she left off… to drive them apart from each other and manipulate them, once again, for her own gain.

Side note #2 before we get back to season 5: SW has a complete and total lack of love for Catra as well. Her callous manipulation of Catra, followed by leaving the fright zone like she did, was a spiritual blow and then a death sentence for Catra. SW would know this and yet she simply did not care. Furthermore, when they meet in Moment of Truth (s3ep4), SW again tries to kill Catra, only stopping short because Glimmer can't withstand the magical drain SW is taking from her. She's just not good people... And if she has such a total lack of love or compassion for Catra, it's a logical jump that she has just as little love and feeling for Adora.

Anyways... let's work on that season 5, phew, I know this is long. We're not done yet, though...

----Part 2: The present up till SW’s Death----

Alright, so returning back to season 5 where we began...

Catra is certain that SW is killing Adora. And the reason Catra is so certain of this is because she understands this fundamental truth behind the childhood abuse of of her and Adora. She knows that SW intended to use Adora, and was grooming her in order to use her to gain more power. And, she knows the true nature of SW’s abuse of Catra herself, that it was meant to destroy her so she wouldn't get in the way of SW using Adora.

How exactly Catra knows this I won't cover here, it would take too long and it deserves its own theory post. But, it is pretty well confirmed in the show as well. No distractions! Moving on...

So… when Adora tells Catra she will take the failsafe even though SW is killing her, it's Catra’s knowledge that SW is for certain doing this to Adora which leads Catra to shake in fear, and then refuse Adora once she returns with the failsafe. This moment goes much deeper than just Catra knowing she can't live without Adora, although that is also true.

Ok so here it is, the big theme we will now delve into, that explains so much:

The all important, crucial thing that Catra isn't seeing is that in order for SW to sacrifice Adora, it is entirely dependent on abusive manipulations is SW doing to both of them, starting from the moment they first see SW in season 5, which are intended to make sure Adora doesn't survive deploying the failsafe.

I know it's a tough implication to accept, but I promise to explain. So why? Why would SW not want Adora to survive? This, atleast, should be obvious: She-ra could stop SW once she has the power, so She-ra is an enemy that SW needs to eliminate to achieve ultimate power. So, SW's goal is to get Adora to bring the failsafe to the heart, but then be too weak to survive the process... leaving SW the uncontested champion by her magical vampiric powers. And so... SW manipulates the two girls, doing her most familiar trick: driving them apart, making them feel isolated from each other.

Her manipulations begin from the very moment Catra and Adora see her in season 5, and they continue up until Adora accepts the failsafe and a bit beyond.

So let's lay this out from the beginning, shall we? Episode 10: When SW walks into the room, saying she knows where the failsafe is, Catra is at first surprised at her appearance, she's thrown off guard. Catra very much wanted to stop SW once and for all, but never got the chance. And now, the new, more feeling Catra is faced with her oldest enemy: she can't hide her hatred and anger at her. It pretty much takes everything she's got not to violently attack her right there and then. But this new Catra isn't going to sink to that low. And yet... SW will intentionally aggravate and attack Catra to reactivate her trauma.

What I find very interesting about that scene, though, is that both Glimmer and Adora immediately look to Catra, knowing she will be upset, both trying to help her. And yet, it's Glimmer who looks first.

Even though Glimmer never says it out loud, Glimmer knows SW played and manipulated Glimmer herself, and that her manipulations were ultimately the reason that Glimmer made the mistake of activating the Heart, which brought Horde Prime's fleet down upon Etheria. Glimmer also watched SW torture and almost kill Catra in s3ep4, so I think Glimmer knows very well how dangerous SW is and how badly she's hurt Catra in the past. Instead, we can take the story of Glimmer and SW as another stand out example of how, once again, we saw SW manipulate someone, Glimmer in this case, with no concern for her well being.

>Adora is also thrown off by SW's reappearance, she doesn't enjoy seeing her either. But then, she also sympathetically looks to Catra, knowing this is a hurtful moment for her. All of this is to say that Catra actually has strong allies against SW, unlike in the past. And it's very important that Adora is such a staunch ally to Catra against SW, in fact it's everything. But, Adora doesn't quite do a good enough job in showing Catra how strongly aligned she, too, is against SW. Unintentional though it may be, as we will see.

>Episode 11: Continuing on, Glimmer immediately opposes SW's desire to use the heart's power. Castaspella tries to say SW is the lesser of evils, but of course, Castaspella is just a pawn. Catra jumps on Casta's words, calling SW evil... SW taunts her back mockingly and we see Catra's anger start to get out of control. But, Adora knows, one way or another, that SW is the root of all of Catra's pain, and so she comforts her, showing her that she sees her pain, and that she's got her back.

Again, it's very important that Adora is Catra's greatest ally against SW, as she has learned to treat SW as a de facto enemy because she has seen the pain and torment Catra experienced because of SW’s abuse; in addition to her own knowledge of how SW manipulated herself as a child.

>Adora confronts SW, asking why she even needs their help getting the failsafe. SW answer is a lie, but plays to her manipulation of Casta, who she needs: she says she can't get past Micah. (Note: who she actually needs is Adora.) As SW tells her plan she leans into Adora's emotional fears of letting others get hurt and reminds Adora she has to be the hero, SW even touches Adora, which we see Catra react angrily to. But, SW successfully manipulates Adora into accepting her plan, and Catra can't stand to watch it as she knows it must somehow be a dangerous manipulation. Catra quietly leaves to try to process her anger. We then see Adora slap SW's hand away, showing defiance, but as Catra has left, she probably doesn't see that. Adora looks around and sees that Catra is gone, which SW responds to by trying to manipulate her into leaving Catra behind, as she knows Adora is more vulnerable without Catra around. But Adora is wary of SW's manipulations, and goes after Catra. SW is aggravated by this.

>The two girls have a very good, emotional talk about SW. Catra is dismayed, but Adora is always brave for others, so she tells her she's got to try. Adora acknowledges Catra's pain, their pain, from SW's abuse. Ultimately Adora convinces Catra to come. Together, Adora says SW can't hurt them anymore. Catra reminds Adora how dangerous SW is, but the girls have reaffirmed their bond, their promises to each other. Which is important later, as this will come up again.

>As they infiltrate Mystacore, Catra is apprehensive and stays at the back. But as the mission progresses she drifts towards the front, trying to be the lookout so she can protect Adora. This, unfortunately, puts her in physical proximity to SW when they check the ritual chamber. Catra checks the chamber, but then a sorcerer appears out of nowhere (literally, how??) and SW grabs her in a way that's very reminiscent of s1ep2, traumatizing her.

I can't help but conclude SW is being intentionally hurtful in order to unnerve Catra. She could have just pointed, or put her hand to Catra's mouth, after all. Catra throws herself away from SW, demanding she not touch her, and makes the mistake of dropping the spell and revealing their presence. Look closely at this scene and you see Adora actually shows great anger, even violent intent towards SW for doing this to Catra, but it's so quick Catra probably doesn't see it, as she's staring down SW instead.

Under a track, Adora tries to become She-ra, but she's too emotionally conflicted since the episode before when they returned to the Fright Zone and Adora started to realize she's been letting Catra down, leaving her hanging. And SW's hurting of Catra also blocks Adora, she's trying to help Catra and yet she's accepting SW's guidance again, which she knows Catra hates and doesn't trust.

>As they pass through the door and continue down a corridor, Adora sees Catra is in emotional pain and holding herself, so she lends her emotional support. She knows SW touching her was incredibly abusive. She tells Catra that it'll be ok, and to trust her, hitting her with her dearest look of love and care for her. She knows SW is Catra's enemy, and she's got her back. Catra looks back, trying to trust her, to put her fear aside. But the moment is cut short when SW interrupts them, guilting Catra for revealing their presence. Adora walks on, saying they have to keep moving, and her face says she's doing it to stop SW from talking to Catra, but again, Catra doesn't see Adora's face. Catra feels left behind, that the moment was cut short. It's by the barest off margins Catra is missing how strongly Adora is coming down against SW for her sake.

> We get more information about SW's corruption next, that it's a way to bypass the crystal of Arxia and get at Heart of Etheria's energy, and we know this because it's discussed immediately after Castaspella tells them about the crystal of Arxia. So, if the magic is released, SW will have practically unlimited power. SW just mocks Casta when she tries to guilt SW over using the spell, she gives no apology. We see both Catra and Glimmer seemingly have a deeper realization about SW and her powers and that both of them look disturbed by it.

>Continuing on, we get the scene where Catra saves Adora from fire, which is so cute but I'll skip the romantic implications: as Catra walks through the fire, Adora stops and frets over not knowing what to do about Catra, how to give her what she wants. Adora is worried she's going to fail, that she could die. It's Adora's biggest, lifelong fear as the bearer of She-ra, and she struggles with it continuously throughout the series. To her, it therefore doesn't make sense to her to get Catra's hopes up too soon.

>Adora's thoughts naturally turn to her inability to transform... and SW pounces on the opportunity in order to exploit it.

Consider now, if Adora's problem is becoming She-ra, why does SW immediately give her a hard time about Catra, instead? Adora rejects SW's criticism, but SW flips the conversation telling Adora she can't be a weak She-ra and seemingly blaming it all on Catra. She tells Adora that her weakness means she's letting everyone else down. SW tells her she has to focus, and Catra makes her weak. This is terribly the opposite of the truth and SW knows this. What she’s really doing is a deep manipulation of Adora that leans on her early abuse of her: Adora has to be perfect for everyone else, and as she's the only one who can do it, she's totally alone in this burden. The truth is that Adora has always needed other people, that's where she draws strength from. Catra loves Adora simply for who she is: she represents the strongest, smartest and most dedicated person, ie, she's the most powerful person to help Adora with her emotional need for support.

Which SW knows, so she does her best to try to separate them, to make Adora think she's alone. SW does this by grouping Catra with everyone else: save everyone, or no one. Then she delivers a direct assault of Adora spiritually by saying "the world needs She-ra right now, not Adora". She's telling Adora that she doesn't matter, only She-ra matters, and she needs to be willing to give it all up to be that hero. We see Adora search SW's face, she's not satisfied and then she does her best to reject her, pulling her hand away in anger while saying she will stop Prime “no matter what.” Catra is eavesdropping on this, but can't see that Adora stands up to SW so strongly... as usual. Catra knows SW is up to no good with it, though. Doubt takes root in Adora, and it aggravates her fears that she's not good enough to be She-ra.

>Arriving at the failsafe chamber, SW gives away just how much she already knows about the Heart. SW explains the failsafe, and so we know she always planned on getting Adora to accept the failsafe, risking it all. Adora approaches, trying to be brave for everyone else.

One of Catra's most important moments follows: she stops Adora from accepting the failsafe, and calls SW out for her bullshit. She's not going to let Adora walk into a trap when she knows better. Catra flips it on SW, telling her to take the failsafe, making SW tell them why it's dangerous, why SW won't do it herself. She points out how SW knows too much, yet didn't pursue the power of the failsafe. Catra is totally certain that SW wants to hurt Adora, and so she's calling her out to get SW to reveal her manipulation of Adora.

SW instead tries to guilt Adora, saying she alone understands that this is the only way to stop Prime. But Catra stands firm, she protects Adora from SW's manipulation as best she can.

Confronted and trapped by Catra's having seen through her plan, we see literally every person in the room ally themselves against SW. SW is forced to admit the truth: using the failsafe will mean death even for She-ra, if she isn't strong enough.

And so Adora realizes what's coming, that She-ra is the only one who can do it. She's terrified and sad at the thought that this could, will, be her end; that she really will have to give it all up for everyone else. She's always thought she'd have to. It's a deep held belief that she's alone in her burden as She-ra.

Adora asks the obvious question: What happens if I die? SW's next words prey upon Adora's every weakness, her lack of belief in her self worth, and innate need to protect others: "Then the magic will be restored to Etheria, through your sacrifice. You will give us the power to bring us to victory. Prime will be defeated. Your friends will be free." SW is listing out every last thing that will happen if Adora doesn't do it, and each is a part of her greatest fears. Adora is unable to resolve between her distrust of SW and need to protect and be brave for everyone else's sake. SW has her trapped by her own emotions.

Catra looks on, watching the manipulation, seeing the consequences of Adora attempting this. Everything about this moment speaks to manipulations SW has used on Adora before: she preys on emotional need and weakness, she isolates Adora in her burden, she even does the dreaded ear touch. If Adora does what SW says, Catra knows it'll be the death of her.

As SW completes her manipulation, everyone in the room cries out against the unfair decision Adora must make. And yet, Adora doesn't see a choice. Catra puts it best, saying: "you don't care about Adora, Adora can't even care about herself!"

But Bow's words also have meaning: "Theres no way we're risking Adora like that." For all that Bow and Glimmer have done for Adora, she's still supposed to be the champion that's going to save them. They need things from her, not simply Adora as herself. All in all, Bow and Glimmer did their absolute and kindest best to help Adora, often emotionally supporting her through her depressions and fears of not being a good She-ra. But in the end, they still needed her to be She-ra.

But Catra is different, all she wants is Adora, and for her to be safe and loved, and ideally, to be with her. Catra's opinion in this moment is the true one, the most honest. But Adora can't overcome the thought of failing everyone, and so she pushes forward, saying she will take the failsafe.

Adora is feeling alone, trapped by fate. Catra runs to her, literally shaking her in order to try to convey how sure she is that Adora is going to die if she does this. But Adora can't let the universe die, and she's She-ra. She (Adora) doesn't matter. It's only what she can do to try to fix things for others that matters, her hero's burden. Adora pushes Catra's hands off her, in a lifetime of pain and sorrow Catra has never looked so sad. Adora really is pushing her away, not seeing how seriously Catra feels, how badly she needs Adora to understand her in this moment. A dissociated Adora looks internally, accepting her fate, alone again, isolated.

Maybe Catra could have found a way to get through to Adora, but they run out of time. A chipped Micah shows up and begins to systematically defeat them, and Adora has no more time to choose. SW is easily taken down by Micah, it shows his anger at her. He taunts her, she's got nowhere to hide. This is interesting, but not our focus..

Adora again tries to summon She-ra and fails. She simply can't resolve between her sense of failure to Catra and her need to be brave for everyone else. She looks to Catra, decides to do the brave thing as herself, not as She-ra, even if it means she will fail, and hurt Catra. After all, since she’s She-ra, she has to try, right? This is her burden.

As SW turns to Adora and says "the failsafe... we... we can't" Adora is pressed by urgency, doing what she can. Catra tries one last desperate plea: "Please. It doesn't always have to be you!" Adora can't accept this, internally she is certain she has to save everyone. Even if this includes SW herself, and so when Catra later says Adora chose SW, not her in this moment, Catra is right, except that Adora believed she had no choice. Adora is also the only one in this moment who can reach the failsafe, and so it seems like fate is against her. Adora knows she's probably choosing to die, and if she does, she knows Catra will probably die of a broken heart as well. She really does choose SW over Catra, in a way. It's a tough moment, but taking the failsafe is the right thing to do, given the circumstances.

Receiving the failsafe is intense, and as Adora tries to withstand it, Micah binds the entire party with dark magic. Interestingly, this means SW indoctrinated Micah more than we're shown, and now that he's chipped, he is uninhibited.

Adora sees everyone is in danger, if she doesn't come through now it's all over. It gives her that singular focus she needs, summoning She-ra is easy because if she doesn't, Catra, all of them, are about to die.

Failsafe achieved, Micah vanquished, Adora offers Catra her hand, she's trying to show Catra she's there for her, they are together. But Catra rejects her, she's too sure that SW has won, that Adora will die. In this moment all the old trauma Catra carries is too strong, and SW has unnerved her too greatly. As Catra runs from her, Adora realizes that Catra was trying to tell her something deeper, but somehow she's missed it.

>Catra watches Adora sleep, she's emotionally distraught at the thought of her dying. So, she tries to sneak away. Adora finds out, and manages to confront Catra before she can leave. This is one of the most heartbreakingly beautiful scenes about love in this show, but I'll just cover how SW's manipulations come into play...

>Adora tackles Catra, and demands she explain why she’s leaving. Catra throws SW's words back at Adora, that she's a distraction, that she makes Adora too weak to be She-ra. Catra knows this was a unfair manipulation by Shadow Weaver, but she couldn't see, only hear, what happened between Shadow Weaver and Adora. She doesn't know that Adora rejected Shadow Weaver so strongly, both spiritually and by violently pulling away from her. Adora tries her best to get Catra to see that she's not doing this because of Shadow Weaver's manipulation, that she's trying to rise above SW's control of her. But Catra pushes her away, instead trying to speak to a more central truth: Adora's need to serve everyone else's needs, her inability to regulate her desire to make things better for others who are hurting or will get hurt, and balance that against her own needs and safety. She's speaking to the part of Adora which Shadow Weaver is exploiting to get what she wants from her, to control her. It doesn't really matter in this moment to Catra whether Adora is doing it for Shadow Weaver or not, because either way Adora is allowing Shadow Weaver to win. Catra wants Adora to be better than a slave to her emotional need to help others no matter the cost or danger. She's asking Adora to be strong in herself in a way Adora has never been able to be. She challenges her, asking "What do you want, Adora?" The obvious answer, Catra believes, is her. But Adora is too worried she will die and let Catra down to let her romantic feelings about Catra manifest and make it real between them, and taking the failsafe has made Adora all the more doubtful of her own survival. Adora counters "I have to do this Catra, I'm the only one who can." It's all to say that Adora is alone in her burden, and she accepts it and its consequences because she's She-ra. Adora doesn't believe she has value, or deserves happiness unless she can save everyone, including Catra.

Adora believes as She-ra, she is totally alone in her burden. This is wrong of course, Catra does see her and understands her burden, and is the one person in the world who wishes to share that load with her, unlike the other princesses who need Adora to be a hero and save them. But both girls are weak from their deep traumas which Shadow Weaver has reaggravated, and they can't overcome them. Catra resigns herself to the belief that Adora is unable to rise above her most basic emotional need to serve others, telling her "Then do it. That's what you want, that's what you'll always choose." She can't stand to watch Adora kill herself so willingly to serve everyone else, all while letting SW win. She rejects Adora, and turns to leave. Adora desperately begs Catra to stay, wanting her to uphold their promise and telling her she needs her, but is unable to vocalize her desire to be with Catra romantically. Meanwhile, in Catra's mind, Adora is just going to let herself die, and if she does, then Adora never really needed her after all... all Adora cares about is being She-ra. It's harsh, but true... even if what she's doing about it is so wrong.

It's a painful moment for both of them, and it's horrible because Catra is so clearly breaking their promise, the one that Adora restored to Catra she came to rescue her from Horde Prime. And yet, her leaving will work in the end. Catra gets Adora to see how crucial it is that she not let Shadow Weaver win, to let Shadow Weaver get whatever she wants by taking that cost from Adora's own life. And it's how Adora finally becomes too strong for Shadow Weaver to ever manipulate again.

>As Adora returns to camp, still crying from Catra's abandonment, Shadow Weaver tries to swoop in and make her manipulations of Adora take their final hold. She tells Adora she "made the right choice, don't let Catra convince you otherwise, she's never understood." Dreaded ear touch and all. By saying Catra can't understand, Shadow Weaver tries to make Adora feel alone in her burden as She-ra, seeking to weaken her spirit. But we see a total shift in Adora's attitude as she rejects SW’s cruelty and manipulations entirely. Her words carry incredible weight and speak to how she's so clearly seen through SW's malicious manipulations of the two of them. "Stop. I will never forgive you. You ruin people. You ruin any chance they could ever be happy." Adora just watched Catra reject her and abandon her because she couldn't stand to lose Adora again over SW's manipulations. It's by knowing Catra's pain that Adora is able to finally deny Shadow Weaver any sliver of control over her. As always, Adora couldn't do it for herself, she couldn't resolve between her deeper need to save everyone and SW's plans to use her for her own gain. But Adora is strong for others, and so she's strong for Catra. By leaving, Catra has given Adora the ability to rise above any manipulation Shadow Weaver can do to her.

Adora stands up to Shadow Weaver once and for all in her next words: "I'm going to take the failsafe to the heart, and I'm going to save Etheria. But I am not doing it for you. I'll do everything I can to make sure you never get your hands on the magic." (pic1, fyi) Note the exact words Adora speaks here as we will return to them later, they are important. While Adora has seen past SW’s manipulations, and seen that Shadow Weaver only ever desired power, she doesn't realize how SW's childhood abuse of her and attempts to manipulate her in the present are making her too weak to survive deploying the failsafe. To get past that, Catra must help Adora.

EPISODE 12: We watch as Adora struggles to become She-ra, but eventually manages it. She's seen through SW's plan after all, and so she does her best to believe she is strong enough to win on her own, to survive the heart. But she misses Catra desperately. She rallies her people, and ends her speech by saying resolutely that she will take the failsafe to the Heart and destroy it. It's an incredible speech, Adora has become a wonderful leader, but then she looks up and sees Shadow Weaver hiding in the back. As SW meets her gaze, She-ra's form falters and we see Adora's face for a split second. She's furious at her, that she hurt Catra so badly that she ran away.

Adora moves away from the group so they don't see her lose her She-ra form because of the turmoil she feels over Shadow Weaver and losing Catra. Bow and Glimmer check on Adora, knowing she has a tendency to try to sneak away so people won't see her risk her life. Glimmer is perceptive and asks about Catra, she knows it's Catra that Adora needs, that her being gone is tearing Adora up inside. Glimmer is a great friend to the both of them. Adora voices concern for their safety if they come with her, but Bow and Glimmer know Adora needs support. And so they will try their best, even though they know Adora is heartbroken from Catra leaving her.

>Buoyed by their support, Adora goes to the ruins to try to face her final task, to overcome it through her own strength alone. Bow and Glimmer take her hands, we see Adora does her best to set her fear aside. And yet, as they enter she wonders where Catra is, whether she will come back to honor their promise.

>Catra looks back, also experiencing pain over their separation. She has not been able to overcome her trauma, and manage her feelings. Well isn't it just nice to have a telepathic therapy pet! Melog stops, and forces her to actualize her feelings and process them. At first Catra tries to deny them, saying she won't go back, but Melog sits on her. She cries, saying out loud her deepest feelings. Let's take this one in steps. "You saw what happened, A-Adora chose Shadow Weaver, not me". In a very real sense Adora did do this, she pushed Catra away in the failsafe chamber. She ignored Catra's warnings and, in Catra's mind, committed herself to death at the hands of SW's manipulation. The next line is one of the most important in the series, but we will only cover it briefly as it's romantic implications are best discussed elsewhere: "Adora doesn't want me, not like I want her." We get to see one of the most honest truths about Catra: she is an intensely romantic person, and has always had the most incredible dreams of them being together. But a lifetime of pain has told Catra that it can't be real, or atleast, not for her. It is deep seated trauma that blocks her, trauma Shadow Weaver started and then aggravated against her, making her leave Adora just moments before. Catra is, in a word, furious that she's come this far, having dared to dream once again that the two of them could be together and in love, only to have SW come in and take that from her once again.

Let's take a moment to consider how Catra is doing as she adapts to her new emotional way of dealing with the world, as she has shifted her perspective since rejoining Adora: The old Catra might have simply struck SW down, maybe even killed her to remove the threat. But now, Catra doesn't want to do that but is expected to trust in Adora’s ability to overcome the threat through her inner strength, and the through the strength of her community. But, as far as Catra could see, Adora just accepted her death as necessary rather than fighting SW’s manipulations. And this worries her, and it's why it's so important to Catra that she not let Shadow Weaver win, so Catra leaves to make sure Adora gets the message. She's wrong to do this, and she realizes this after opening up to Melog. Adora needs Catra to have faith in her, because without her support, there's no chance Adora overcomes what Shadow Weaver is trying to do to her.

>Glimmer watches the doubt play across Adora's face. She doesn't know how to make it better, since Catra isn't with them. She asks her if she's scared, and Adora answers back as truthfully as she can: "No, I just really hope this works." She's putting on a good face while trying to believe there's a chance, but when Bow tells her it's going to be a whole new world when she's done, Adora doubts. Can she even survive? Will Catra be gone forever? The next scene is, of course, very romantic. We see that Adora has always loved Catra, just like Catra loves Adora. The magic is trying to remind Adora of her own desires, her wants. Let's not get too distracted though: as Adora moves on, vowing to not let the magic distract her, we see her She-ra form falter, she's still fighting despair and loneliness. Bow and Glimmer don't know what to do...

>Catra sees Horde Prime begin hacking the planet and knows Adora is in grave danger of not succeeding in her last, unselfish mission before Prime stops her. Catra can't let this happen, also, since Melog has helped her process her emotional pain, she's ready to support Adora in any way she can, even if it means her hopes and dreams of them being together will be unfulfilled. She tries to rush to her side.

>Adora is panicking and unable to resolve her feelings of failure to Catra, She-ra is in danger of fading again. She sees the sword as she saw it back when she first left Catra, her hand goes to the failsafe on her chest, the thing that made Catra reject her after she accepted it. She tells Bow and Glimmer she can't escape her destiny. The words "I'm losing her" speak to a deep held belief by Adora that she's not worthy of survival because she feels that she has never been able to help the one person she truly loves, making her no hero. All of the manipulations of Shadow Weaver, Horde Prime, even Light Hope are crushing down on her. She believes she has to accept her fate, to die to fulfill her duty as She-ra. It's the price she has to pay for not being good enough, for hurting Catra when she left her to become She-ra. She thanks Bow and Glimmer for their love and support. "I never could have done any of this without you." Bow and Glimmer did everything they could to prop Adora up, get her out of her depressions when she felt she wasn't good enough to be She-ra. But they still needed her to be She-ra, and therefore they can't help her get past her deepest insecurities. To do that, she needs someone who has unconditional love for her. She needs Catra. Adora leaves Bow and Glimmer behind, trying to protect them, so that only she will have to die.

>Catra finds Shadow Weaver patiently waiting to receive her power, to be able to achieve dominion over everyone else. SW tells Catra "She's gone to the heart of Etheria to free the magic and become the hero she was born to be." The dead hero, that is. As SW tries to guilt Catra, calling her selfish, she glares back. She stands up to SW, rejecting the manipulation: "Enough! This isn't about you and your messed up power trip anymore!”

In this moment, Catra shows us how clearly she understands SW's goal. She calls her out perfectly. She tells SW that Prime is infecting the planet to take the heart, which changes everything, including for SW.

>As Catra leads SW, having forced her to cooperate, they see Prime's broadcast and Catra knows they have to act. She demands SW take them to Adora, and doesn't accept her lies. She knows SW can do it with magic, and demands she comply. Her words hit home "So do something good with it for once and help me save Adora before it's too late." Notice the similarity to when Glimmer asks Catra to be better on Horde Prime’s ship. SW is trapped, she has to comply. If Adora doesn't reach the heart, no magic for SW, universe ends. Catra accepts SW's hand, though it hurts her to do so.

>Catra and SW arrive in the corridor. As Catra gets the truth from Glimmer, she's dismayed. "Of course she's gone, that's what she does, isn't it?" She knows in this moment that Adora is consumed by fear, her inadequacies. As she finishes briefing Bow and Gimmer on the situation, she tells them she will stay to help Adora, and she invokes their promises to each other. It's an important moment, as it is the two of them together, their promises to each other, that gives them the strength to surpass SW's manipulations of them. Glimmer knows Catra is in love with Adora, so she leaves Adora in Catra's care. Bow’s words are important as well, speaking to the power of the Best Friend Squad. It gives Catra a boost to her morale, a belief that maybe there's a chance she and Adora can overcome the odds they face.

>Adora looks out over Etheria, seeing its beauty. Mara joins her. Adora tries to promise Mara that she will save the world, everyone, at any cost. Mara flat out rejects this as wrong, she doesn't let Adora promise. Mara confronts Adora on her decision to die for everyone else. When Mara asks her what she wants, Adora says it doesn't matter, that she's She-ra. Again, an isolationist view, a lonely burden, just like SW wants her to believe. Mara tells Adora that she, Adora, has value as a person, not only as a hero, and that she deserves love, too. As Mara tells to not lose hope, Adora is emotionally moved but you can tell she's still struggling to accept Mara’s words because of her feelings of inadequacy and loneliness. Mara manages to pass some courage to her, but then Horde Prime cuts them short.

Prime leans into Adora’s fears, threateningly. Like SW, he knows how to exploit her. He was in Catra's head and so he knows what Catra knows. He tells her that her failure is imminent, that she is already defeated, like the other She-ra's. The guardian monster then strikes and infects Adora, and she finally loses her grip on her She-ra form. He tells her even her own people didn't want her to make it to the heart, telling her the whole world is against her, and that she's totally alone. She tries to counter this with defiance, but the virus has her. She knows she's in trouble.

----Part 3: Final Moments, and Death, of SW----

>Episode 13. Adora is in pain, trying to understand the nature of the infection. The monster towers over her, it has only to reach out to deal the killing blow, she's defenseless. Suddenly Catra shows up, engaging the monster. Adora's only concern is for Catra's safety, telling her to leave her because it's too dangerous. But Catra has decided: she will do whatever it takes to give Adora her chance to save the universe, if that's what she wants. Even if it means Adora has to die. She tells SW to get Adora to the heart, which Adora objects to. SW is looking closely at Adora and seeing her illness, evaluating. As Adora begs for Catra to not leave her, Catra tells Adora she'll catch up. After all, they are the best friend squad. Bow's words have given Catra a small amount of hope that maybe it'll be ok. Adora, now that Catra has finally shown up, is desperate to not lose her again, and knows fighting this monster is too dangerous for her alone. But she's sick, and unable to help her. SW takes Adora unwillingly towards the heart.

>Catra is doing her best, but the monster is too much, even for her. She tries to slip away, seeing the virus continuing to spread. She's trying to get to Adora, who’s alone with SW. Horde Prime stops her (no keep running!!) and she gets caught. He mocks her, telling her he expected better. But Catra has already surpassed his greatest expectations, and she'll stop him yet... as the monster catches her, she cries out in anguish. It seems the cruelty of the universe has caught up to her again, after all...

>As SW tries to bring Adora to the heart, Adora's sickness is rapidly advancing. She demands SW wait, but she's too weak to resist. The thought of losing Catra again is weakening her spirit and allowing the virus to take over. SW tells her not to lose her focus, she's still hoping Adora will deploy the failsafe before dying. But then the virus seemingly attacks Adora's heart and SW watches the failsafe nearly fade out. SW looks up, she's close enough to already siphon power from the heart. Her lust for power is apparent.

As Adora hears Catra’s scream, she forcefully pushes herself from SW, and starts to go back for Catra. SW calls for her to wait, but Adora leaves her behind.

This is it, the turning point. The great moment of truth: SW now realizes, in utter totality, that she's never going to get to have the power. It's one of the most important moments in the series, and what happens next is the culmination of all of the hard emotional growth the two girls have been doing.

>>Quick interjection: we’re about to get emotional here... (well, I do). Just a light suggestion to check your surroundings. <<

Shadow Weaver now realizes that, even if she were to drag Adora to the heart, she would be too sick and heartbroken to deploy it. It's over for SW, either she dies now, with everyone else in the end of the universe, or she dies giving everyone else, including the girls, a future.

Remember as well, Adora has told SW that she would do everything she can to make sure she never gets the power. Adora is too strong against SW's manipulations, something Adora learned from seeing the pain Shadow Weaver caused Catra through her abuse. I mentioned that the exact words Adora used when she rejected SW the night before were important, so let's return to them: Adora told SW she would deploy the failsafe, and also that she will block SW from getting the power for herself. But as she said all of this, about saving the world, the universe, she doesn't say one, very important, word.

Promise.

Adora may have dedicated herself to being She-ra, but somehow in that moment she knew not to promise to SW that she would deploy the failsafe to save the universe, instead only saying that she was going to find a way, while making sure SW doesn't get the power. We saw that Adora later tried to make this particular promise to Mara, but Mara threw that out, telling Adora to be better, to rise above her lack of self belief.

A promise was made, though. She promised Catra. Their beautiful, childhood promise, the one she so casually broke way back when, her greatest mistake. And so Adora goes back for Catra, to be there for her, to try to help. If this Catra's end, she will be there for her... even if the cost is this high. She can't just let her die alone. She is honoring their promise...

And so… Adora finally… after all this time, puts Catra above her duty as She-ra. Her love for Catra is more important than fulfilling her heroic duty, and so SW can no longer manipulate her into giving up her life so SW can get the power. The girls have, in fact, transcended her manipulations, and as Adora leaves SW standing by the heart, SW is totally alone and without anything, anyone, left. She is, in fact, defeated by the girl’s love for each other... and so as SW looks towards the heart, she finally... makes... the right... choice. She gathers enough power from the heart to fight the monster...

>Horde Prime mocks Carta as she tries in vain to resist being pulled towards her death. When he invokes Adora's name, saying she will die, Catra shows her sadness, disappointment, at having come so close to being with her. He mocks her again, asking her if it was worth it. Catra shows defiance, then sorrow. The answer is yes, of course. Catra was willing to lay it all down to give Adora her shot at saving the universe, she's honoring their promise as best she can even if this is Adora's final act before her, and their, deaths. Catra has total belief that in this moment, that she needed to sacrifice herself for Adora. It seems like the natural outcome of fate, of the cruelty that is SW's and the universe's betrayals of the two of them their entire lives...

Heroic. Fucking. Music. SW shows up, charged from the Heart to take Catra's place. She's going to do one heroic and worthy thing of remembrance before she goes, since she is defeated and knows she won't get to have the heart's power.

Carta's disbelief is total, she can't understand how SW would ever do this for her. Her manipulation of them their whole lives was so total, so unfeeling. And yet, here she is. SW tells Carta to get to Adora and run. She forces Catra back and blocks the door. Catra still can't understand... and we finally... see Shadow Weaver show some actual real remorse for how empty her life is. She begs Catra to take Adora to the heart, to set the magic free. The one thing SW is dedicated to is magic, and she knows releasing the magic will restore the planet. Catra points out the obvious, that SW will die. Part of the reason Catra is so broken up by SW doing this is because Catra had just accepted her fate of dying in order to give Adora her chance to save everyone: Catra was willing to die for Adora even if Adora never found the courage to want Catra the way Catra wants her. And now SW takes her place? It doesn't make sense to her, as SW is a greedy person.

Shadow Weaver’s next series words are some of the most important in the entire series. And this is also the one redeeming quality she has... that she is a teacher. And she’s about to tell Catra something very, very... important.

She says: "It's too late for me." All her manipulations towards getting the power at the cost of the girls lives have been torn down, they've completely moved past her, she has no place in their lives anymore. The girls have learned to love each other so loyally that SW is done, finished.

"But you... this is only the beginning for you." Catra listens to this, searching for the deeper meaning... "I'm so proud of you, Catra." I think we all agree SW being 'proud' of Catra is a devastating line, Catra doesn't need or probably even want her abusers approval. I also think it is a lie, everything about SW says she's unable to feel actual compassion. But SW is a mastermind, and I think she's telling Catra she has respect for her. Catra ended up being the greatest enemy SW ever faced, she was so smart that she saw right through every manipulation SW made, and in the end, SW couldn't touch her. But theorizing aside, we see Catra cry... somehow, someway, SW finally seems to be showing Catra some amount of good in her, and so she cries, wondering where it comes from…

As Catra brings her hand back to uselessly flail at the barrier, Adora catches it. Catra looks back at Adora, surprised at her reappearance...

… right then we see Catra suddenly look away from Adora. It's quick, but we're seeing a dissociative moment: this is Catra realizing something very deep, and very meaningful...

Catra realizes, that in this moment, SW has chosen to do something that is much more than just dying in Catra's place.

She has given Adora to her.

All of Catra's life, Shadow Weaver has stood between her and Adora, love was a thing Catra was not allowed to have. But the girls, together, have transcended all of her abuse and manipulation. They have seen through her plan and risen above every cruelty, and have blocked SW's manipulations to use them for her own gain. And so, a defeated SW chooses now, to give Catra the most beautiful of gifts...

Catra puts it all together, filled with clarity: SW is telling her that Adora doesn't have to die, she can survive this. That they can survive the Heart!!! And Catra is the key, as SW has told her: "This is only the beginning, for you."

Catra is now given this knowledge freely by SW, and thus given hope. SW stands before them, totally defeated, in awe of Catra's incredible growth and cunning and that she was able to see through her plan, and how strongly the two girls have come to love each other. So, SW is giving Catra her fullest respect, and as a last act before her death she is passing Catra newfound hope that the two of them can overcome this, that they can survive...

Shadow Weaver removes her mask, showing Catra her face. It's not a face of manipulation, as we expect, no, there's respect, even, dare I say, gratitude. SW didn't have to do this, Catra knows that. And yet, Catra managed to show SW something she never expected to see. And so, by outthinking and so totally defeating her, by making SW see that all her manipulations were discovered and therefore wouldn't work no matter which way she turned, and by getting Adora understand the urgency of not letting SW win, Catra has won this final, beautiful gift…

“You're welcome…”

As Catra watches SW make her final sacrifice... her one good deed... she looks on, stunned. Life is never quite so simple as you think it is, and since returning to Adora, Catra has seen so many acts of generosity she didn't really believe were possible... and now... this...

Catra lets Adora cry for a moment, then tells her they have to go. Catra is filled with new urgency... they will face this final challenge together. As she resolutely carries Adora towards the heart, she knows she's now in charge of their fate... and as they face this final task, Catra is searching for a way to save Adora, and to save their love once and for all...

All of this has huge implications for what then happens with the girls when they reach the heart chamber, but that's a topic better discussed another time…

Some final notes here. It's my belief that Shadow Weaver is the overarching villain of the story, who spans all seasons of She-ra, and is far more important to the plot than Horde Prime is. Furthermore, understanding Shadow Weaver as this kind of villain is a stepping stone to explaining many other important plot points in the series, and we can build on it to understand a lot of the most important moments in the show.

My personal belief about this story is that the writers had such a diverse room of people of LGBTQIA+ and other backgrounds, each with their own trials and pains they had to overcome, that as a team, their goal was to bring to light as many of these struggles that they could. But as for this most central story, my guess is they wanted to tell us a story about overcoming real darkness that exists in our world, as well as Etheria, because sometimes that's how it is. And so the right thing, the only thing to do is to overcome and move past such people, to not let them control your life.

All this is to say that I think the moral of Shadow Weaver in the story isn't about finding the good in her, but about rising above her and the fundamental darknesses that we all sometimes face. And our girls do this through love, at no point do they use violence. And that makes this story very, very... special.

Thanks for reading. Until next time…

~EtheriaDearie

P.S. :: as I am new to tumblr, if you enjoyed reading this, please consider giving me a reblogg! Thanks!! 🙇💛

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crystal-moon-101 · 3 years

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Got good old Albedo next on the list for redesign and rewrite, and oh boy do I have a lot instore in how I ended up writing this character. There's just a lot to do with the idea of him, and I happened to pick a pretty depressing route, but I think it works in the end. Vilgax will be done next, though I'll be a little busy for the next two weeks so not much art will be done in a while, then eventually Rook and Rayona. But, onto the rewrite for Albedo!

-Albedo-

Albedo's background is...something. When he was growing up, he exceled in many of his classes, projects, and many even theorized that he could have potentially become the next First Thinker if Azmuth hadn't come back. Because of this, Albedo grew up with nonstop praise, parents that would brag about him, and people building up this idea of him having a grand future. So, as you can expect, he became arrogant, prideful, and due to issues in Galvan culture, did look down on those lesser, mostly other species in the galaxy. When Azmuth arrived back and was giving the role of First Thinker, Albedo wasn't too bothered by it, either believing he would get it one day, or find something better for him, but he felt honored when Azmuth took notice of him, and suggested that Albedo be one of his assistances, and even apprentice. Albedo agreed, wanting nothing but the best of the best, and having Azmuth as his teacher would surely benefit him quite a bit.

But that's when his prideful fantasy began the start of it's downfall, those little cracks showing up. Azmuth was by no means cruel, but he wasn't one to give blinding praise, knowing criticism was good to shape a young ego, something he had also been doing with Ben at the time. What he didn't realize was that, because Albedo had been nothing but praised his entirely life, he didn't know how to handle criticism, especially since Azmuth does have a dry sense of humor and can sound harsh when he means well. It started making the young Galvan insecure, because he had to be the best, he had to be perfect, that's what everyone else said, so why did Azmuth see it differently. Did Azmuth not think he was good enough?...Of course, that wasn't true at all, and Azmuth saw a lot of potential in Albedo, but will admit he missed many signs of what kind of mental state his young friend was in.

It didn't help when it came to Albedo's behavior towards three other people Azmuth worked with, that being Ben, Myaxx and Eunice. Not only did he look down on them for not being Galvan, but he just couldn't understand what Azmuth saw in all of them. He saw Myaxx as loud, rude, and would never admit she was smarter than he gave credit for. Eunice, who is Azmuth's bodyguard Galvanic Metamorph, felt a little too free for his taste, since while she did do her job, Azmuth let her mostly do what she wanted, far too chipper for Albedo's taste. And then there was Ben...the most baffling out of the three. He was nothing but a dumb, chaotic, little brat that for some reason Azmuth saw so much potential in, and even had enough faith and trust in Ben to let him handle the Omnitrix. It didn't help that Ben could not only handle Azmuth's criticism and suggestion, but he even dear talk back against the First Thinker and test his judgement, and Azmuth would actually listen or let it slide. Just what exactly did Ben have that he didn't??

Eunice and Myaxx weren't really bothered by Albedo's attitude towards them, and Ben always had a proper comeback to tease Albedo, but Azmuth did tell him to knock it off often. Albedo did bring up his concerns many times, especially about letting Ben run around the watch, and while Azmuth tried to tame his worries, Albedo felt like he wasn't listen...or at the very least Albedo wasn't willing to see from a different view. And yet he still tried, and worked under Azmuth for a few years, even getting involved in the Malware situation which he tried to deal with in his own way, only making it worse though. He will admit he was somewhat happy that Ben stopped wearing the watch sometime after that event, but still annoyed that Azmuth let him keep it just in case.

It finally came to head when Ben put the watch back on and was getting involved with Highbreed stuff. Albedo just couldn't understand the relationship between Azmuth and Ben, especially when Azmuth gave a lot of his time to Ben (Because of the Highbreed issue), and Albedo still felt like he wasn't good enough for Azmuth. So, after trying to understand the whole thing in how he saw it, Albedo pinpointed the idea that it must be the omnitrix that connects all of this, why else would Azmuth care about some kid on earth? If he could prove to Azmuth that he could do just as a good of job as Ben, even better, then Azmuth would finally see him as the worthy Galvan he was...expect, that's not what happened. Albedo found himself trapped in Ben's body, and Azmuth was furious with him for making another watch, and when Azmuth said, for the first time in Albedo's life, he was highly disappointed in him. Something in Albedo finally just snapped.

Azmuth said he would help turn Albedo back to normal if he gave him back the copy watch, and to get help for this problematic state he was in, but Albedo refused. He now jumped to the idea that Ben and Azmuth were the route to all his problems, and that he was going to prove that his way of life and thinking was better than whatever Azmuth could come up with, even wanting to prove he could fix this human body issue he had going on his own. Azmuth will admit, he was surprised from this outburst, and is somewhat upset with himself that he didn't notice sooner to help...But for now, he ask that Ben keep an eye out for Albedo and make sure he doesn't do anything to harmful to him or anyone else, which Ben agreed to, feeling bad for Albedo and the obvious effect on how blind praise for years ended up hurting him in the end.

Now Albedo runs loose, crafting plan after plan after plan to prove he's better than Ben or Azmuth, as if trying to convince them he's worthy of something...or perhaps, to convince himself...

Notes:

Because Azmuth still feels responsible for Albedo, he does send him supply packs of food, water, medicine, blankets and anything else he might need when he can. Ben also pitches in, by getting Albedo things human teenagers need that Albedo isn't too well versed in, and even gets him his clothes since they're both the same size. Albedo often tells them both to bugger off...but does even up using their gifts since he doesn't have the money to buy his own things.

Albedo is an albino Galvan, and all the aliens he turns into are albino too, or at least the equivalent for certain species.

After he fled, Azmuth had returned home to info others what happened, and Albedo's parents kind of...disowned him after that, though they weren't the best parents anyway, only really enjoying the fame their son brought for them originally. Azmuth did give them a good talking to about his disguised he was of them.

Albedo isn't sure why he enjoys chillfries so much, since Ben admits he takes it to a whole other level. Maybe a glitch in the watch, maybe because it was cheap to get, maybe a part of him that he denies kind of likes some of the food not from home...

Azmuth knows he can't force Albedo to accept his help, as that would just make things worse, so he said he will always offer the chance to turn him back to normal, but Albedo has to be the one to take that help, and to still hand over the watch and perhaps get some therapy too. But he keeps rejecting this, saying he doesn't need Azmuth's help.

The moment that actually starts to make Albedo doubt himself in what he's trying to do was when Vilgax out tricked him and betrayed him at the end of Alien Force. Something about it was different compared to when Ben and his crew would win against him...Perhaps because of the idea that another alien race could do something he could not...But he wouldn't admit that...

Albedo does get involved during the Malware arc, due to his previous connections to it and Azmuth, making him a target for Malware. Begrudgingly, he does ask for Ben and Azmuth's help in that to stay safe...

Despite hoping Albedo would come back, Azmuth did eventually have to get a new assistance, another Galvan by the name of Abacas, who Albedo is aware about, and hates that his spot has been replaced, even if he was the one who up and left.

He does not get enough sleep, thus the bags under his eyes.

Since Galvans are insectivores. Albedo does still eat bugs as a human, mostly out of habit.

Is really bad at understanding humor.

#I did not mean to make this kind of depressing #But I thought it was a good way to explain his character and not make it just Ben and Azmuth being dicks to him #Also adds the interesting elements of making a villain who's own worst enemy is himself #Ben 10 #B10 #Ben 10 Albedo #Albedo #ben 10 omniverse #ben 10 ultimate alien #ben 10 alien force #ben 10 original series #Ben 10 Azmuth #Ben 10 Ben Tennyson #ben 10 redesign #Ben 10 rewrite #My Art

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ifbrd · 2 years

Note

[

An idiot: Mabel is the worst!

Another idiot: No, Dipper is the worst!

A wise intellectual: FUCK FILBRICK PINES.

]

Oh man are you trying to start a rant in me? Firstly, yes absolutely. I mean look, at the end of the day, Bill is the worst. But he’s a literal demon, we expect him to be the worst. Filbrick Pines was a terrible father who fucked up both Stan and Ford, and probably Shermie as well. And Filbrick fucking up his kids is part of the reason Dipper and Mabel had their fight that lead to Bill taking advantage of Mabel to start Weirdmageddon. Mabel was scared and there’s a lot of reasons she was, but part of it was because she heard the story of how her uncles used to be close and then grew apart and now hardly talk, and she made that connection between that and what was being proposed to happened to her and Dipper. The biggest reason Stan and Ford drifted apart, and thus inadvertently put the idea in Mabel’s head that the same would happen with her and Dipper, was because Filbrick was shit who made Stan feel like nothing, made Ford feel like his intellect was all that gave him worth, and chose to throw Stan out instead of trying to solve the conflict or, if he was really not wanting any part of the argument, encouraging the young men to sort it out themselves. Filbrick devalued his kids and only gave a shit about them when they showed evidence that they could benefit him. Furthermore, anyone who says Dipper or Mabel is the worst are failing to account for their age. Neither of these twins are the worst, 12-13 year olds are the worst. Have you ever met a preteen/teen? They’re little nightmares. Just think about how you were at that age, and how all your crappy classmates were at that age? Do you wanna go back to middle school and talk to those versions of those people? No you don’t. And what pisses me off most about Mabel specifically being called “the worst” is that she is hated for the same reasons Stan is loved and cherished. Mabel’s a brat for the same reasons Stan is an innocent baby. Clearly Ford asking Dipper to be his apprentice was supposed to parallel Ford going to college, but I don’t ever see people go off about how much Stan fucked up with the science fair incident. How much work does it take to tell Ford, “hey I might have broke your project, you might wanna go fix it?” How many in the fandom felt about the situation was clear: they expected Mabel, at age 12/13, to handle the same situation better than Stan did at age 17/18. Got it. That makes sense. 🤦‍♀️ And no one bother coming to me saying “actually Dipper and/or Mabel do suck because….” Okay? I will not listen to anyone who thinks 12 year olds should act more mature than they are. Y’all wanna criticize Ford? Hey as long as there is no victim blaming in regards to him and Bill I’m down. You wanna criticize Stan? Let’s fucking go! Stan gets treated like a precious prince by the fandom despite the fact that he’s just as “guilty” as the rest of his family. Perhaps even more so. Every other family member didn’t know what they were doing. Ford and Mabel fell for Bill’s tricks because he was manipulating them, and Dipper didn’t tell Mabel about the rift because an adult he trusted told him not to. Stan on the other hand read plenty of warnings about the dangers of the portal. Stan knew the portal could destroy the world and still kept it going to save Ford, even though that’s not what Ford would have wanted. And we can say that Stan was just putting his family first but that isn’t even true. Stan was putting himself first. Stan wanted his better half back, Stan wanted his only friend back. Because if Stan had been doing this for his family, he wouldn’t have been working on the portal. If the portal could destroy the world then it could destroy the rest of his family, it could have killed Dipper and Mabel. And even as he was forming a bond with them he still kept going with this machine that had the potential to hurt or kill them. And all for someone who would have rather had kept the portal off to keep everyone safe. Anyway….there’s my rant…long overdue and I could probably keep going if I was egged on lol.

#That’s not necessarily saying you should egg me on lol #I mean if you REALLY want me to keep going you can encourage me to or ask a related question

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evarcana · 3 years

Text

Taking it out on you

Ev attends the court meeting only to learn that sometimes the second impressions are just as bad as the first ones.

characters: Ev Panopolis, consul Valerius and brief appearance of Volta

words: ~3k

warnings: alcohol (as expected)

notes: On some point I gave up on the idea of Ev being the apprentice, as she just does not have this "MC energy". So this is an introduction to her story, because there is no better way to celebrate the 1 year anniversary of this blog than to remember that a very long time ago I used to write fanfiction.

It has been almost a month already. Almost a month since she came to Vesuvia, almost a month since she was told that her services were not required here. The thought makes Ev frown, but she keeps a quick pace, the sound of her impatient steps on the marble floor echoing through the palace corridor.

It is just before eleven o’clock, and the last of crisp morning sun pours over the rich mauve of lustrous silk drapes and the gold leaf of intricately carved murals, drawing out the warm scent of orange blossom and beeswax from the polished panels of precious wood. Vesuvian palace is exactly what she was promised - a great wonder, and yet Ev doubts it could give any lesser impression while the backdrop to its striking opulence is the city torn apart by disease and grief.

There are no servants or visitors in sight, and Ev’s only company in this seemingly endless corridor are paintings on the walls, depicting what she can only guess are some of the proud moments of Vesuvian history - people and places so foreign to her.

She does simple math in her head: two months and two days ago she was marching down the corridor of a very different palace, eager to be on time for the meeting with Crown Princess Nafizah despite the quite literal last minute notice, and not knowing yet that she was about to hear details of this so-called diplomatic mission.

Back then it sounded straightforward enough. Prakra couldn’t ignore the news of Count Lucio's tragic death, not least because that meant Princess Nadia, the youngest daughter of the Prakran royal family, was left widowed and with the daunting task of handling the red plague epidemic in Vesuvia all on her own. Any ruler could do with an extra pair of hands and any country could benefit from the alliance with Prakra, especially in times of crisis like this. And it would have stayed straightforward if only the discovery of Countess Nadia’s mysterious illness and the unexpected, unreasonable, outrageous hostility of Vesuvian court did not bring this crisis to the whole new, now personal, level.

In theory, Ev did not have to deal with any of that. She could use the excuse that it was only appropriate to deliver such unsettling news about Nadia in person, go back and forget everything that happened in this palace like one of those unpleasantly bizarre dreams you get after a night of drinking. But Vesuvia was still the city Prakra cared about, Nadia’s city, and as far as Ev knew none of the people who came to be in charge of it were appointed by her. Prakran diplomatic presence was perhaps the only way to look after Nadia’s interests until she woke up. Even if Ev had no actual power over the court, returning to Prakra without accomplishing at least something felt like a failure, and failure has never been an option for Ev. With that in mind, she pressed the seal with enough force to imprint Prakran royal crest on the desk and not just on the drop of red wax marking the envelope, and stayed.

Now, after a month of living in the city, she has learned to see that there is more to her new role than just misfortunes. Her relocation allowance is generous, her new place is nicer than what she had in Prakra and she is getting rather used to the convenience of the wine shop next door. Even if parts of it are foreign and unwelcoming, Ev feels at ease in Vesuvia. The tension in her body relaxes, and she thinks maybe this palace can eventually get used to her too, but the thought faints away as soon as she sees the salon door. Ev presses a pile of papers closer to her chest and tells herself that she can think about everything else another time - the court meeting is about to start.

She pushes the door open but immediately freezes on the spot stricken by the gagging wave of nausea - nails dirty with soil and blood, sickly sweet buttercream pastries and rustle of feathers covered in mud. It is no more than a faint impression but even through the fogged mind Ev recognises the feeling - it is vestige, the afterimage of magic. She has felt it before, many times and in many different forms but never has it made her feel physically sick. What is even more unusual is that such a revolting sensation is coming from the palace quarters. One would expect tingles of bubbles from the charmed fountains of never ending sparkling wine or at least the impression of whispers, premium tea, treacle and bitter ambition from the walls which have been magically given ears, and not... whatever this is. Ev draws a deep breath, pushing down into her diaphragm and looks around the room. The salon is not set up for the court meeting, instead there is a tray of food and stacks of empty plates towering on almost every flat surface. Her eyes stop on greasy remains looking terribly out of place on the delicate porcelain plate and she unconsciously covers her mouth. Maybe she is mistaken after all - it is the strange smell of food and not some kind of creepy magic, and, more importantly, maybe this is not the salon she was looking for.

Before Ev gets a chance to mentally blame the chamberlain for giving her the wrong directions, a tiny figure appears from behind the chair. The white cornette is instantly recognisable and Ev is about to ask procurator Volta whether she is here for the court meeting too when she sees that behind the commotion of dark robes Volta is frantically trying to push the whole roast rack of lamb down her mouth. Dear gods. Somewhat unsurprisingly, one of the bones appears to be stuck. Clearly having not expected to have an audience, the procurator widens her eyes at Ev in a mixture of terror and shame. Unable to speak, after a few incoherent squeaks, she throws her tiny hands in the air helplessly, spattering herself with gravy and gestures to the open French doors leading to the balcony. Without giving it too much thought, Ev gives Volta a quick nod and takes an opportunity to escape the awkwardness of the scene.

Wrapped in the soft shade of the balcony, consul Valerius is casually leaning back in the chair, with the usual glass of wine in his hand. Even before she reaches the doors, Ev sets her eyes on his face. The consul is looking away, his face carved and unmovable, the tight knot of dark eyebrows making him look ireful and disgruntled, like one of those statues of stern gods she saw growing up in Zadith. Her next step lands much quieter and then, there steps in, Ev stops and stands very still wondering what thoughts could possibly bring this storm to Valerius’s face. Sun would suit him much more, she thinks, her eyes curiously trailing down the golden glints of his hair.

A loud snort catches Ev off guard and she realises that Valerius is now facing her, looking considerably more displeased than before, no doubt because of her. That’s more like it. How could she forget that this man is the very cause of her problems.

“Could I please have some of your time, consul?” she asks, heading straight towards him. Greetings seem excessive, they didn’t necessarily part on friendly terms last time.

“I didn't expect to see you here again.”

Ev allows herself a smirk. “I know.” I am not here to do what you expect from me. She stops inches away from his chair looking down at him, apparently enjoying the close proximity which, considering their formal relationship and the consul’s well known bad temper, could be regarded as both highly inappropriate and potentially reckless. But Valerius only turns away, more interested in his drink than in her.

“I have been studying the treasury records,” she continues, searching his face for any kind of reaction. His lips curl up in a sneer as he takes a sip of wine, but his eyes are still firmly fixed on the horizon. Ev follows his gaze expecting to see some radical change to the surrounding landscape, but there is only faint outline of the city roofs behind the lush green of the palace's vast grounds, - no columns of smoke, no ominous looking storm clouds gathering in the distance, nothing that could possibly be more interesting than her. Whatever. “Your tax system - ,” she hands Valerius neatly arranged papers, which he completely ignores,“- it is not working.”

“Vesuvian tax system remained largely unchanged for the last two generations, this is how these matters are handled traditionally,” says Valerius, once again denying Ev courtesy of eye contact.

Ev’s mouth twists at the sound of the last words. Too worried the conservative mindset might be contagious, she quickly withdraws her hand and takes a step back.

“I trust you understand that sometimes one should focus on what works, and not what is traditional,” she says, doing her best to disguise the growing irritation. “You don’t attract nearly as much foreign trade as you used to.”

What comes next is a very profound, uncomfortable silence. Ev sighs.

“Consul, you had plague in the city, people died,” her voice is louder now, “lots of people died”, and the irritation is obvious. “And Vesuvia cannot exist without its people. Somebody needs to bring food from the farmlands, make clothes, teach children, attend to the sick. Yes, in the past you could always import whatever you did not have but now people are scared to come because of the plague. You -”, she pauses in anticipation noticing Valerius shifting in his seat, but he only reaches for the bottle to top up his glass, “- you need to do something to make it attractive for them again. Lower the customs, lift the taxes for people whose skills you need, sell empty real estate cheap. There is plenty all around the city!”

Deep down Ev knows that none of these is going to work long term, but she doesn't care - she wants to do something and she wants to do it now.

Yet, nothing changes. She is still standing there, and he is still looking away. Ev would prefer him to disagree, start arguing with her - anything really, as long as it breaks this silence.

“Fine! If you don’t feel like changing this traditional system of yours, even temporarily, at least fix your mistakes.” Ev starts chaotically flipping through the papers searching for the one she needs, which would be a much easier task, if she was less flurried and if Valerius offered her a seat. She wonders whether he is now watching her, sneering at her struggle. “Your approved accounts, here,” this time she brusquely puts the paper in front of Valerius’s face blocking his view, “your numbers do not even add up! ”

For a split second she sees something on his face - a twitch, a flick of rage, and thinks that she has gone too far. But his question comes out in a calm, almost disinterested tone: “What makes you think that somebody like you is even qualified to check the city’s budget approved by the esteemed procurator Volta?”

A moment passes before Ev is able to break from staring at Valerius in disbelief. She glances to the salon where, judging by the sound, Volta has freed her mouth only to move to the next dish. Seriously? Perhaps she should be impressed that he managed to say it with the straight face.

And then there is a chilling sensation at the pit of Ev’s stomach. She asks herself what is going on here? What is this city under the reign of a person who questions everything and everyone except the obvious mistake in the accounts? And what is she - ? Angry, she reminds herself, is what she is, and throws a look at Valerius, who is taking another sip from his glass as in triumph. You don’t need to be qualified, you just need to have common sense. And you, Valerius, either don’t have it or you were not even bothered to look at what your court approves.

She pictures him lazily drinking wine, legs on the desk, his shirt unbuttoned, while completely ignoring his state duties. The image is irritating and yet not entirely unpleasant.

“We both know that I come from a family of alchemists and merchants. Trust me, I know how to count,” she says with a smile. It sounded right in her head, a ridiculous answer to the ridiculous question.

“I thought that during our last meeting you said that you had nothing to do with your witchcraft family.” A perfectly raised eyebrow, and that infuriating smirk.

Ev opens her mouth in protest but gives up quickly. Those were her exact words after all, save for the witchcraft part.

She begins to pace around the balcony avoiding looking at Valerius as much as possible. The consul clearly has a way of getting on her nerves, and she needs all her concentration if she wants to explain what exactly will happen to this goddamn city if they carry on with this approved budget.

“Think about the consequences for the people if this mistake is not corrected!” she shouts, her voice much louder than she would like it to be, and quickly turns to Valerius expecting a blowback. But the pale eyes are looking down, studying something on the floor, or on the edge of the fabric of her long sleeve, she really can’t tell. Oh gods, he is not even paying attention.

***

Valerius has firmly decided that he is not going to pay any attention.

The time of plague was exhausting: the palace suddenly full of people of all kinds and intentions promising to find a cure, pleas for help on the streets which he could not escape even behind the doors of the most expensive carriages, the count who was growing more desperate everyday and the white smoke of the Lazaret carried by the sea breeze towards the city, the memory of which still haunts him. And now there is the Satrinavas’ new pet here having an audacity to talk about his city’s problems - the problems which, out of all people, he should know the most about, he is the consul after all, and a Vesuvian.

Vesuvia he inherited is haggard and sad, and on top of that an enormous responsibility. The last thing he needs is a stranger questioning his authority, as if the incompetent court and the city demanding their beloved countess back have not been tiresome enough. Valerius lets out a short, barely audible sigh. He just wants this farce to be over so he can go back to thinking.

But the witch is not planning to stop, if anything she seems to be enjoying it. Look at her. Absorbed by herself and her ludicrous ideas, she is loud and talks too much with her hands. Her dress keeps slipping down the shoulder draping around the soft curve of a half barred breast every time she does one of these unnecessary, overconfident gestures. Valerius has absolutely no idea whether this is deliberate or she is simply unaware of the indecency which keeps drawing his eyes.

He tries to distract himself by taking a drink of wine only to discover that his glass, just like the air around him, is full of this loud perfume of hers. Harsh cinnamon, incense and patchouli, very much alike their owner, have no concept of the personal space ruining the perfect balance of his red. The wine is not helping. He catches himself looking at the shoulder again. In fact, absolutely useless. He sets his unfinished glass aside on the small table. Valerius has had enough.

***

“Enough!” Valerius shouts. His voice is suddenly deep and rather forceful and Ev hates that it has the desired effect on her. She stops and looks at him. “You were not invited to the court meeting.” The consul’s face looks awfully angry now.

Ev narrows her eyes. “And what exactly are you doing at your court meeting?”

“That should not be a concern of the Prakran subject”, Valerius says, his words dripping with poison, “or whoever you are.”

“I am a diplomatic emissary -,” she does not get a chance to finish.

“Leave!”

Ev wants to scream and protest, but even she knows better than to yell at somebody who outranked her. She draws a breath. One, two, three. All right.

“I only came to give you the papers”, she says coldly, her eyes still locked on his, and leans forward to place the documents on the table. “But I am taking this away, one should work without the distraction of wine.”

With these words Ev snatches the glass from the table, turns away and heads toward the exit as fast as she can without breaking into running. She does not want to look like she is scared that Valerius will grab her by the arm. If anything she is slightly disappointed that he doesn’t.

“My regards to the court,” she raises her hand and waves the glass in the air without looking back. Behind her there is a sound of paper being torn apart.

***

Ev only slows down when she reaches the main staircase.

Suddenly feeling very tired, she leans against the handrail. Again, what is she doing here? Why did she need to turn up in person when she could send a letter? Ev closes her eyes and rubs her fingers together as if feeling for answers in the whorls of her own skin, and remembers about the glass in her hand. Another bad decision. It would have been wiser to take the bottle.

She raises the glass to her lips and breathes in the wine. It’s pleasant. Perhaps she would prefer its company to the boring palace affairs too. Ev twists the glass in her hand, eying the smooth rim before drawing one long sip. It leaves a blush mark of her lips firmly planted on the surface which she studies for a few seconds. “You better be as angry as I am now”, she says to the dark liquid at the bottom of the glass.

#no i didnt read the whole thing myself #the arcana #consul valerius #the arcana fic #the arcana fanfic #evpanopolis #valerius x mc #ev x valerius

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eggtoasties · 3 years

Text

dazed bees to honey

Pairing: Shisui Uchiha / Sakura Haruno

Rating: T

Summary: He saw her throw a man into a table and now he's entranced.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29744067

_____________________________

He’s off the mission roster for two weeks.

Tsunade said, “Consider it a vacation, Uchiha,” while massaging her nose bridge.

Apparently, one person shouldn’t voluntarily accept three back to back solo missions running from Earth, Lightning, then back to Earth country. She had mumbled something about “disrespect for authority,” “emotional constipation,” and “generations of inbreeding,” along with other things he couldn’t quite catch when he came back with his chakra dangerously low and slightly feverish. He ignored her death glares while she filled out his medical leave forms and flicked through his mission reports.

Despite what Tsunade thought about his work-life balance he saw it as a healthy exercise in assessing one’s physical and mental limitations…for science.

He shifted his weight side to side and assessed her. Her trademark pigtails draped over her shoulders and her green haori was draped on the back of her heavy office chair. She had one hand braced under her chin while she diligently signed documents and hummed at his mission details. He stared at a chip in the wooden floorboards beneath his feet and scrunched his nose at the state of his sandals.

“Y’know, Tsunade-sama, as the most prolific, intelligent, and innovative medical ninja in all the great nations,” he began, ignoring the way her pen cracked in her grip, “Shouldn’t you have a professional stake in knowing just how much one of your elite shinobi can handle?” He flashed her a crooked grin as her brow twitched.

Tsunade placed her pen down and sat back heavily into her chair, steepling her fingers to her forehead then looking into the rafters of her office. Undeterred, he continued.

“Surely as the Hokage—as my Hokage—as my favorite Hokage,” he blubbered on, gesturing with his hands, “Shouldn’t you be proud and relieved that I learned that one can actually survive on Lightning country’s bitter reed roots for like, a week straight?”

Barring of course, the violent color it turned his urine, the incredibly vivid dreams he had after about 3 days, and the subtle auditory hallucinations after 5 days, which he coincidentally forgot to tell his prolific, intelligent, and most favorite Hokage.

He dodged a paper weight that ripped him from his musings on the potential recreational uses of said plant root as she barked at him to go to the hospital.

The last place he wanted to go was the hospital.

He smiled at her, all dimples and pretty straight teeth. “Tsunade-sama, did I mention your beauty and graciousness?” putting heavy emphasis on ‘beauty.’ “I must’ve because a little birdie at the gates told me about a B ranked escort mission deep into Wind country next week that I would just love to—” he dodged a stapler aimed for his face.

“Get out of my office.”

“Hokage-sama—”

“Your initial priority was your mission in Earth,” she looked at him pointedly. “I gave the second one in Lightning because I figured that would give you enough time to soul search or find the missing braincells your ancestors must have scattered across the elemental Nations throughout the decades,” she waved her hands absentmindedly. “But I guess no luck there since you conned a chunin squad out of their reconnaissance mission in Earth.” He internally winced at the sharp tone of her voice.

He had happened to run across a very green looking chunin squad at the border of Fire country and told them that he was headed that way anyways and that they should head back to Konoha and request a more exciting mission. It didn’t take much persuading once they realized they were talking to shunshin no Shisui, and what idiots would openly defy a legendary shinobi?

“Shisui!” Tsunade hissed, “Are you even listening to me? Since you seemed so eager to take missions well beneath your skill level, I can arrange it so you’re on D levels for the next month—don’t give me that look, we’re in peace time—if I actually needed you, I would’ve sent you a summons but being your gracious Hokage,” she rolled her eyes, “I let you play precocious genin.” The contempt was dripping from her voice while he stared into her Byakugou seal.

“Listen,” she sighed, resting her arms on her desk, “Rest and don’t go overboard on training. I’d force you to stay overnight at the hospital just so you wouldn’t even think about expending chakra, but Sakura’s out on a mission,” that tidbit made his ears perk. “And I don’t get paid enough to drop kick you back into a hospital bed when you eventually sneak out—”

“—well then, I’ll get going, thank you Hokage-sama,” he said with a bow, shunshining away from her death glare.

Tsunade sighed, hands twitching to reach for one of the ceramic bottles hidden away in a drawer. Instead, she braced her hands on her desk and pushed, swiveling herself towards the large office windows. Staring at the Hokage monument, she allowed herself a wistful smile, remembering the warmth of young love in the pale sky and emerald trees.

Shisui stared at his ceiling after his check up at the hospital and flirting his way out of staying overnight on the account of his abs being very much intact despite poor nutrition—“Yes, could you please check them?” He grins at the memory of the flustered nurse, fondly thinking of the verbal lashing he’d get from Sakura if she caught wind.

She’d tell him that he needs to stop terrorizing the nurses so he could heal and he’d tell her he’d stay overnight only if she’d be his personal medic. Or, you know, he’d offer with a sly grin, she could play live in nurse. Shisui, she’d say exasperatedly. He could imagine the way she’d pinch her nose bridge and run a hand through her pretty hair. He’d throw his hands up in concession after she sized him up wondering if she should beat him into submission with her tiny fists.

He’d tell her to lower her weapons of mass destruction and take her small hands in his larger ones, thumb tracing over her worn knuckles.

Sighing and ignoring the ache in his chest, Shisui grabbed one of the many magazines scattered on his coffee table and mindlessly flipped through it. His feet tapped out an irregular rhythm while he glossed over the words on the page, thinking of the past year.

He and Genma had just returned from a grueling undercover mission on the border of Grass and Waterfall. The duo ambled into the bar, bones weary, and aching for a drink. They eased themselves at the bar front, sipping on drinks that bit at the back of the throat.

Appreciatively inhaling the spicy sweet aroma, he finally made eye contact with Sasuke, who was strangely handling a large stack of ryo in one hand and a notebook in the other.

Towards the back of the room, a small crowd of jounin and ANBU regulars were circled around a single table. Sasuke’s pink-haired teammate sat at one end and gestured at the empty seat across from her. Behind Sakura, other members of her graduating class were clapping Sakura’s shoulders and laughing amongst themselves. Sakura said something teasing—Shisui could tell by the way her eyebrow gracefully sloped up and the impish smile that graced her face. Sasuke apparently backed her up, haughtily puffing his chest out and crossing his shoulders, slanting his chin at the empty seat across from his teammate.

Clearly goading the group of older shinobi, a veteran, Shisui remembered as being exceptionally fond of decapitating his enemies by hand, swiveled the empty chair backwards and sat heavily, elbow anchored at the table, formally accepting Sakura’s challenge. The shinobi tauntingly fluttered his fingers and subtly flexed his arm, causing his ANBU tattoo to ripple.

To Shisui’s surprise, Sasuke smiled. With teeth. Shisui, who had a lifetime’s experience decoding stoic Uchiha mannerisms—and especially Itachi and Sasuke’s micro-expressions, read Sasuke’s smile as a feral, shit eating grin. Sasuke spread his arms wide, like a ring master at his very own circus, and smirked as the older group whispered amongst themselves. Shisui watched as Sasuke meticulously took notes in his notebook and collected ryo from the shinobi.

The members of his graduating class positively leered at the older group, their eyes blood thirsty.

“Hideki probably shouldn’t have been promoted to ANBU captain if he’s stupid enough to think he’ll win against Sakura-chan,” Genma murmured around his senbon.

“Hideki’s arm is the size of both our heads combined—and your head’s fucking massive,” Shisui snickered. “I know Sakura-san’s the Godaime’s apprentice but I thought the Godaime’s strength was hereditary?”

Genma turned his head from side to side, sighing at the way his vertebrae cracked, “Nah, you’re not in the village long enough to know anything anymore. But Sakura-chan’s basically a mini Tsunade, but just a little more evil.”

Shisui started at that, trying to recall what he knew about Sakura.

Pink. Massive crush on Sasuke that apparently dissipated if the way Sasuke always had giant bruises, angrily grumbling Sakura’s name, was anything to go by. One of the head medics at a ridiculously young age. He knew she was strong. Little Sasuke’s indignation at his “weak” teammate gradually turned to respect and trust throughout the years and Shisui knew that the Godaime wouldn’t take just anyone as her apprentice. But Tsunade-sama strong?

“I thought she was a medic.”

Genma snorted.

Shisui lazily leaned back against the bar. His eyes traced over Sakura’s arms—corded with muscle, but nowhere near her opponent’s. Her hand was consumed by Hideki’s, her visible four fingers hardly taking up half of his hand.

Channeling chakra to their ears so they could catch any exchanges, Genma and Shisui listened to Hideki coo at Sakura.

“Try not to cry when you lose, petal, I’d hate to see you upset.”

Sakura smiled, and loosened her shoulders.

As Sasuke finished writing his notes and collecting his ryo, he counted down from three with a gleam in his eye that made Shisui shift uncomfortably. At Sasuke’s “Go,” nothing happened. Hideki’s friends stared at his clasped hand in confusion which quickly changed to incredulousness.

Sakura’s grin, stretched impossibly wider as she tipped her head back and licked her lips.

“Don’t hold back your tears, petal, I love seeing grown men cry.”

Her hand slammed forward and through the table, flinging Hideki off his chair into the debris and woodchips. He laid sprawled across the floor, looking up at Sakura dazedly. Sakura responded by resting her cheek against a fist and pouting.

“And here I thought you’d be a little more of a challenge. Sad”

With one half of the crowd cheering and whooping and the other half looking part disbelieving and part terrified, Sasuke promptly handed Sakura a chunk of her winnings and flung an arm across her shoulders for post-win gloating.

Shisui tried not to let the surprise show on his face but apparently failed to do so as Genma snorted, “Told you so.” Not only was he surprised at what must have been a fraction of her strength, but Shisui’s mind was reeling at Sasuke’s outward fondness for someone other than his mother and apparent talent as a fucking bookmaker.

As the commotion died down, the crowd parted as Sakura made her way towards the bar.

“Hope you didn’t wound his pride too much Sakura-chan, a little unbecoming for grown men to cry at a bar, no?” Genma said, while handing her a drink.

“It’s been a busy week for me, I had to fulfill my monthly ‘make men cry’ quota somehow, right?” Sakura responded, taking a greedy sip.

Genma moved his senbon from one side to the other. “Are Hatake’s tears not enough? Heard you actually get him to go to post-mission health checks on the regular now.”

She rolled her eyes and abandoned her straw to take a deep swig of her drink. As if realizing Shisui’s presence for the first time she jerked her head towards him.

“Oh hi, it’s so nice to finally meet you Shisui-san, I’ve heard so much about you—I’m guessing your guys’ mission went okay?” she asked while looking at them up and down, assessing both their physical states.

“Sakura-san,” Shisui clucked, “Are you checking us out? I’ll have you know that Genma is much older than you think.” He ignored Genma’s side glare in favor of catching Sakura’s amused snort. “And I didn’t realize Sasu-chan talked about me, that is so adorable, I hope it was all good things? Shisui flirted.

Surprising Shisui, Sakura rolled her eyes good naturedly.

“Fuck you man, you wish you’d look half as good as me in a few years, just because you think you’re above daily SPF doesn’t mean your skin’s not going to age like a leather glove. You don’t hide under your ANBU mask—” Shisui glared harshly and elbowed Genma in the stomach, “—enough for the sun to not be damaging, Uchiha genes be damned.” Genma managed to wheeze out.

“Relax Shisui-san,” Sakura said placatingly, “Your ANBU status is unclassified information for me. Also,” she leaned in towards him, “It’s not as if the whole village doesn’t know, she dropped to a theatrical whisper, “That Uchiha Shisui is ANBU.”

Blinking at her, but conceding to her logic, Shisui apologetically patted his partner’s shoulder.

“Also,” Sakura quipped, “I was the one who specifically chose you two as duo to infiltrate and wrote the tactical plan in your mission scroll.”

Shisui’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh please, don’t act like you’re above Sakura-chan’s tactical planning,” Genma said. “She totally predicted that the target’s estranged stepson was going to come out of the woodworks in some shady way,” Sakura visibly brightened, “Thanks for including that theory in Addendum C, Sakura-chan—and like, isn’t her handwriting so much better than half the Nara’s in tactics?” Genma babbled animatedly.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Shisui said, “So you’re telling me you’re a top tier medic, Hokage’s apprentice, an active juonin—who has to deal with Sasuke’s mood swings nonetheless—and part of the tactics squad?”

“Yup,” she responded, popping the ‘p.’ “But I don’t go on every single Team 7 mission anymore. Not that I don’t love them, but rasengan-ing and chidori-ing your way through battle plans gets a little tedious and a gal needs variety,” she joked, waving her hand towards the back of the room where Sasuke and Naruto were apparently haggling over the worth of the destroyed table with the owner of the bar. “Also, I’m not formally in tactics. Shikaku-san’s been my informal strategy mentor for a few years.” She shrugged and tossed her long hair over her shoulder.

“I mean you spend so much time in the office, Shikaku’s basically like your work husband, ne?” Genma smirked into his drink, “Or is it little Shikaku junior who taught you the ropes?”

Shisui ignored Sakura’s withering stare. “Godaime’s apprentice, Hatake’s student, Shikaku’s…mentee.” He let out a low whistle, “Looks like you basically meet all the requirements to be future Hokage.”

“Too bad Sakura-chan has a temper just like Tsunade-sama’s; the council members would gouge their hearts out,” Genma chuckled.

“Maybe you should spend more time in the field instead of on Hokage guard rotations, then you wouldn’t be talking so much shit.” Sakura’s lip curled into a small smile, despite her outward annoyance.

“Ooh don’t forget Ibiki, he and Sakura are like two peas in a pod. It’s horrible.”

“Wait, so how do you know this idiot?” Shisui interrupted, gesturing at Genma.

“Well,” Genma started, while motioning to the bartender for another drink, “It all started in the coat closet of Hokage tower, some filing boxes, and a leather—”

“Shut up Genma,” Sakura slapped the back of his head. “I was spending a lot of time at the tower, studying, doing paperwork, running errands, that Genma and I just started chatting. Then I was placed on some missions with him and that’s basically it.” Sakura shrugged and reached over to steal Genma’s new drink from him.

“Plus,” Genma added, pouting and making grabby motions at his stolen beverage, “Tag-team bullying Kakashi with her is a whole new level of fun.”

Sakura giggled and Shisui drowned in it.

Although wildly busy with ANBU missions, clan meetings, and his gradual transition to commander of the Police Force, he had decided then to make an active effort to drop in Sakura’s life from time to time. Afterall, he didn’t realize Konoha still churning out little prodigies since well, Itachi.

Several weeks later, he found himself wandering the streets of the village after a mission. A straightforward solo assassination. He was in and out with no trace. Although the post-mission physical evaluation was only semi-mandatory for shinobi that Tsunade trusted to seek care, he figured he could pop in to see if Sakura was busy.

He went into her office through the window and saw her at her desk. She was leaning back in her chair, exhaustion radiating off her as she greedily sucked at a pouch, fisting the small bag to get every drop.

“Ohoho is Haruno-sensei drinking on the job? Guess you really are a mini Tsunade, but isn’t it a bit early to turn to alcohol so young?” He teased, although he walked towards her with worry clear on his face, though she couldn’t see with her eyes closed in weariness.

“It’s applesauce, idiot.”

“Huh?”

“It’s applesauce. In a squeezy pouch.” She cracked an eye open, “Did you want one?”

“You seem hungry.” He eyed the four empty pouches on her desk. “Why not eat at the cafeteria?” He ran his hand through his curls, assessing her slight under eye circles and raw hands.

“You know what they say about hospital food,” she said dryly.

He looked at her blankly.

“God you need to stay local for longer periods of time.” She sighed.

“Would you like it if I did?”

“Well apparently someone needs to civilize you.”

Shisui couldn’t help the heat that crept up his neck at her answer and he looked at her in uncharacteristic silence.

Taking a deep breath and releasing, Sakura hunched over her desk, bracing her chin under her interlocked fingers. “Barging into someone’s private office through the window is a bit rude, don’t you think, Shisui-san?” She quirked an eyebrow at him and he internally stammered. She looked at him as if he were a lab specimen, and he swore he felt like he was in an interrogation cell. “Now I know Sasuke has the social capabilities of a rock,” Sakura continued, “But Itachi and Mikoto-san are very polite so you must have been taught manners at some point.”

“I didn’t realize you were so close to the Uchihas, Sakura-sensei,” he said lightly. He wracked through his brain to think of any instances of pink hair in the Uchiha district, but he was hardly ever home. His time in Konoha was largely spent working at the Police Force or with Itachi and Itachi never mentioned Sakura becoming such a familiar fixture in his life that she referred to him without an honorific.

Sakura rolled her eyes and produced another pouch. “I’ve known Sasuke for over a decade—and have the privilege of being one of his only two friends.” She shook her head fondly. “Also as one of the head medics, an active jounin, and administrative queen,” she said sarcastically, “Don’t you think,” she paused as she uncapped her snack. “That I would get to know a few Uchihas?”

Although Shisui was the one standing, he felt as though she were peering down at him, flicking him around in a mental boxing ring and he was losing. Badly.

“Ah, sorry Sakura-sensei,” he said laughing, rubbing the back of his neck, looking at the sentimental keepsakes at the top of her desk. “Maybe I was hoping that me and Sasuke would be the only Uchiha in your life.” He gave her a crooked grin and was met with a deadpan stare. Shifting on his feet he heaved a weak chuckle. “Maybe I got hit in the head a little too hard on this last mission, I can go, I’m sure you’re very,” he gestured at the small mountain of pouch corpses on her desk, “Busy.”

He made the hand sign to shunshin into a dark corner where he could bang his head against a wall in embarrassment and shame when she suddenly appeared in front of him. Her speed taking him by surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me you were injured?” She gently grasped his shoulder to make him crouch down to her height and raised a glowing green palm to his head. “That should have been the first thing you led with.” He felt the cool rush of her chakra at the base of his head which did little to quell the heat rising to his cheeks. “Also, the protocol is for injured ANBU to check in from the side annex,” Sakura continued angrily.

He took in her furrowed brows and the way her deep green eyes narrowed in concentration. Her soft apricot skin he noted, had a dusting of freckles across her delicate nose bridge, and he caught a sliver of pink as she wet her lips. His mind began to work overtime as he realized she would find out he had no injuries.

“You’ve sustained absolutely no damage. Guess this is another thing you and Sasuke actually have in common,” she mentioned wryly.

He looked at her questioningly, still bent down towards her, wondering if he’d be able to smell her shampoo this close.

“Incredibly thick skulls,” she waved her hands absentmindedly.

Shisui stifled an indignant choke, as she continued while walking back to her desk. “So, why did you happen to randomly come through my window?” she said, as she settled back into the leather armchair. “I’m on the fifth floor and there’s no balcony. Surely you didn’t just…find yourself here.”

“No you’re right,” Shisui said, hands fiddling with a knickknack at the front of her desk, “I wanted to know if you,” he paused as she stared at his hands. Ah, he thought. Another social faux paus. “Wanted to…” he trailed off a little unsure and stared at her desk then at her Byakugo seal. “Get food?” He mentally slapped himself.

Sakura snorted. Shisui was beginning to hate being on the receiving end of her snorts.

“Nice save. I guess sustaining myself on applesauce probably isn’t the best way to go about life, huh?” She gathered her stash and dumped it into the wastebasket at the side of her desk and began to tidy the mountains of paperwork and files. “Sorry, but I have a surgery in twenty minutes I need to prep for, maybe another time Shisui-san. Unless you want to state your original purpose I’m afraid you’ll have to get out before you watch me go through a sixth pouch,” she said cheekily.

“Would you want to spar sometime,” Shisui blurted out.

“Ah, another Uchiha to beat up,” she smiled wickedly. “Are you sure though? Just ask your cousin, I beat the shit out of him every other week.”

“Sasu-chan’s strong, but he’s still learning,” he smirked. “I’m sure you’ll find me significantly more interesting.” He said confidently. Finally he thought. Easing his posture and leisurely putting his hands in his pockets while staring down at her. One topic of conversation where he wasn’t constantly putting his foot in his mouth.

“No,” she said slowly. “I mean your other cousin, Itachi. I beat the shit out of Sasuke like every day at training,” she scoffed. “His brother on the other hand is a little more… interesting.”

Shisui gaped. He hadn’t realized that Itachi had regular spars with anyone besides him and whatever team Itachi was assigned to. Shisui narrowed his eyes at the double life his cousin has been seemingly keeping secret.

Ripping him from his thoughts, Sakura got up and shuffled a few files underneath her arm. “I’ve got to go to the OR,” she explained. “That stands for operating room, since apparently you spend so little time in hospitals,” she said as she walked past him.

He sniffed at that.

“But if you’re available, we can spar this Sunday afternoon—I prefer the Uchiha training ground a kilometer away from the abandoned storehouse, but let me know what works for you,” Sakura said as she left Shisui standing in the middle of her office with a wave.

Once the door clicked shut he stared at the empty space at her desk. He barked out a disbelieving laugh and wrung his hands through his hair and paced in circles. He glanced around her office, noting the touches of personality between massive tomes of medical textbooks and scrolls.

A recent picture of team 7 on her desk, an orange throw blanket folded neatly at the end of the little gray couch tucked into the corner of the room. Little wooden figurines sat on her bookshelf, scrolls of traditional black ink art on her walls, a—was that a ceremonial Uchiha fan?

It was only their second meeting and she managed to knock him off balance once again.

She couldn’t make their Sunday spar, Sasuke relayed to Shisui, when his older cousin was prowling around his home looking for Itachi. She’d been sent on a diplomatic mission to Suna and it would take two weeks, Sasuke explained. After his curt explanation, Sasuke assessed Shisui and after a beat, narrowed his eyes at him.

Amused, Shisui poked at Sasuke’s cheek earning him a glare.

“What’s wrong Sasu-chan, jealous your teammate’s bored of you and wants to spar with stronger, more handsome Uchiha?” Shisui taunted.

At the insinuation that he was weak, and the unmentioned fact that Shisui was comparing Sasuke to Itachi, Sasuke bristled.

“Tch, it’s your broken bones, Shisui.”

“Who breaks bones during a spar?”

“Annoying medics.” Sasuke responded with an eye roll.

“Hm,” Shisui hummed and tipped his head back towards the sun. The pleasant warmth made him sigh and he closed his eyes to the sounds of tinkling wind chimes and distant children laughing. The back porch of the head family’s home opened into a serene garden. A sprawling tree that Itachi and Shisui used sit under while drinking tea sat next to a small koi pond where Sasuke would amuse himself by poking at the fish when he was younger.

He looked to the slightly open screen doors of the back porch and remembered why he came.

“Where’s Itachi, what’s he up to—do you know?”

“Making food with Kaa-san.”

“Ever the conversationalist, Sasuke. Did ‘Tachi and Mikoto Oba-san banish you to the back because you’re going through a hormonal spike?”

Sasuke gestured at the broom in his hand in obvious explanation. “Tch. I think they’re talking about their hair.”

Shisui laughed and Sasuke quirked his lip.

Sasuke and Shisui headed inside and heard the scrape of metal spoons against bowls and light music in the background.

“Coconut oil really increased the thickness of my hair and was an effective detangler. It’s unfortunate it’s only readily available in Suna. The import taxes make it overly expensive here.”

Mikoto hummed. “Well if it’s that effective I don’t mind trying it out, did you try the avocado mask I put in your bathroom?”

Shisui and Sasuke failed to cover up their snickers and were met with a menacing, spoon-wielding Mikoto.

“Now, I don’t want to hear anything from two boys who won’t put on sunscreen unless I tell them to. Sasuke,” Mikoto clucked, “Do you even exfoliate when I remind you to?”

Itachi laughed into his tea as Sasuke turned pink at his mother’s admonishing.

Wiping his hands on his apron, which Shisui amusedly noted was a pastel yellow with white trimming, Itachi turned back to scoop meat lightly in the middle of the circular dumpling wrapper.

“I asked Sakura to bring back coconut oil when she returns from her diplomatic meeting.”

“Nii-san you need to stop requesting random things from her, she’s not you courier,” Sasuke countered, taking a seat across the table where his brother and mother were working.

“She’s actually the one who offered and the one who first told me about coconut oil. Apparently,” Itachi picked at imaginary lint on his sleeve, “Hyuuga Neji-san gave her some…unsolicited advice,” he finished wryly.

Mikoto chuckled when Sasuke glared at the dumplings Mikoto was delicately pinching at the mention of Neji.

“What’s wrong, Sasu-chan,” Shisui sing-songed, throwing his arm across an indignant Sasuke, “Jealous of Neji-san? He does have pretty hair. By the way,” he said, watching Itachi’s hands, “Since when have you and Sakura-san been so close?”

Sasuke shoved Shisui off of him and scoffed. “That pompous stick up his a—sorry Kaa-san—was a dick—ah, sorry—to Sakura. And he’s not even that good looking.” Sasuke finished with a sniff and an apologetic smile towards his mother.

“And when did you and Sakura-san become friends?” Shisui repeated himself to Itachi, not missing the way his Aunt and Sasuke glanced at each other.

“She’s Sasuke and Kakashi’s teammate,” Itachi responded slowly. “Plus, she accompanies me to the sweet shops and bakeries you and Sasuke refuse to try,” he added with a slight pout which Mikoto frowned at and Sasuke looked up exasperatedly.

Shisui chuckled at his cousin’s sweet tooth. “So, how did you become friends?” He tried again.

Sasuke looked at Shisui disgusted. “She’s my teammate,” he hissed.

Shisui ignored him and looked innocently at Itachi, exaggeratedly batting his eyelashes. Mikoto giggled at their antics.

“Shisui, are you interested in Sakura-chan?” she questioned eagerly.

“Obaa-san, I saw her throw a man into a table a few weeks ago,” he recalled excitedly, leaning in towards the table. “And then she told me she beats the shit—ah whoops, sorry—out of Sasuke and Itachi on the regular, how could I not be interested?”

Mikoto, Itachi, and Sasuke simultaneously raised an eyebrow at him and cocked their heads to the side. Creepy, Shisui internally shivered.

“Hn.”

“Are you…jealous, ‘Tachi?” Shisui asked incredulously.

“Tch,” Sasuke responded.

“God, I give up,” Shisui wailed to the bemusement of his family members and reached over to help Mikoto with the dumplings only to have Sasuke slap his hand away.

“Get away from those, you fold the ugliest dumplings.” Shisui gaped at his younger cousin in disbelief. “We’re freezing these for Sakura when she comes back—idiot never has real food in her fridge—don’t touch them,” Sasuke finished with a warning as Itachi nodded along with his brother.

Chuckling, Mikoto continued to expertly pinch the edges of the dumplings and absentmindedly hummed to herself. She drew up a mental Punnett square and slightly frowned at the low odds of having a pink-haired Uchiha baby.

#shisaku #shisui uchiha #sakura haruno #shisaku fanfiction #itachi uchiha #sasuke uchiha #mikoto uchiha

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novelist-becca · 3 years

Text

Not Fragile

Fandom: The Owl House

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Eda Clawthorne & Luz Noceda

Summary: “But don’t you still think I’m too weak and fragile to be a real witch?”

“Wha- no, of course not, Luz. What gave you that idea?”

AO3 link

FFN link

“Hey.”

Luz looked up from her phone to see Eda standing in the doorway. She held Luz’s Grom crown in her hand and a concerned look on her face.

“Hey…” was Luz’s only reply. Even after that amazing dance, even though it was over, the last thing she wanted was Eda’s criticism or even pity. But she closed the window and scooted over to give her some room anyway.

Eda placed the crown on top of the chest. “Had to get it off of King while he was asleep. ...And him off me.” She said with a chuckle. “Anyway, thought you might wanna talk about what uh, happened?” added Eda as she sat on the windowsill beside Luz. It may be outside her comfort zone, but Eda disliked seeing her apprentice this...down.

Luz’s shoulders tensed and she looked away from her mentor. “I know, I know, you told me so.” She grumbled. “I know I was stupid, okay?” Luz clenched her fists.

Eda was taken aback. Was she really that hurt by her statement that afternoon? “What? No, no, that’s not why I’m here at all.” She tried to reassure her. But Luz still looked glum. “I wanted to say that I’m proud of you after tonight. You and that Blight kid did amazing.” Luz only relaxed slightly. “I know I said it before, but you did good.” Eda concluded with a slight smile.

Finally, the girl unclenched her fists and sat up straight. She inhaled. “Thanks.” She said. Then she looked at Eda. “But don’t you still think I’m too weak and fragile to be a real witch?” Honestly, Luz appreciated the praise, but it still didn’t feel like Eda believed in her. But the older witch looked surprised and shook her head.

“Wha- no, of course not, Luz. What gave you that idea?” Eda asked. Yes, she called Luz fragile earlier, but she didn’t mean it like Luz was weak. In fact, she has so much potential as a witch, despite being a human!

Luz gave her an incredulous look. “You said I was fragile. I didn’t just fight Grom because I didn’t want Amity to get hurt, I wanted to prove you wrong. I thought I could, but I guess I messed that up too.” She finished with a sigh and looked away and said under her breath, “Just like I mess up everything else…”

“Luz…”

“That giant illusion of you that was outside when I was training? It said I was inadequate. I know it wasn’t real, but maybe it was right.” Luz slumped in her seat, avoiding Eda’s eyes once again. Her expression didn’t change. “And I still proved you right, didn’t I? I went overboard again, and you almost had to save me. I’m sorry.” Luz remembered the embarrassment she felt when she ran from her worst fear...like a coward. Everyone on the Boiling Isles thinks humans are weak, and she just proved their point.

For a moment, Eda didn’t say anything. So, one of Luz’s fears was...disappointing her? Not being good enough? Well, as much as it hurt, Eda couldn’t really blame the kid for thinking like that. But it’s not as if she didn’t believe in her.

“Luz,” Eda began. “I…I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t think you’re weak, or inadequate, or stupid, or anything like that! I just…” She put a hand on Luz’s shoulder. “I didn’t want you to get hurt by running headfirst into danger again. I’m sorry that I made you think that.”

Luz met her mentor’s eyes again. “I still ran, though. Like a coward.”

“You’re not a coward, Luz, you never were.” Eda sighed. “Look...King was right. I was too hard on you. Clearly I was wrong. You’re talking as if you didn’t defeat Grom, but you did. Look- look at it this way! You could defeat Grom, you just needed a push from a certain someone.”

Luz thought about that. She’s not wrong. She defeated Grom with Amity, and in the coolest way, too! “Yeah, guess you’re right.” She said with a fond smile. A part of her wonders how Amity is handling things.

“You see?” Eda said with a smile. “I’m so sorry I ever doubted you, Luz. Now, you didn’t disappoint me. In fact…” She kneeled down in front of Luz and put both hands on her shoulders. “You made me proud. So don’t beat yourself up just because you couldn’t face your fear on your own. You of all people should know it’s okay to have help.”

Luz responded by smiling and putting a hand on one of Eda’s. She was right. True, she wasn't ready to fight Grom, but she had help in the end. It doesn't make her weak. She knows that.

“And…you’re not that fragile, okay? I remember how you saved me and King from multiple monsters. I just wish you didn't face this one. You’re brave, and I respect that.” Eda admitted.

“Thanks Eda.”

“But don't take this as an excuse to keep running into danger, okay?” Eda added. She swears this kid’s gonna be the death of her.

“Hah, no promises…” Luz muttered.

“And don't think you'll never be a real witch. You…you have a lot of potential.” Added Eda.

With that, Luz wrapped her arms around the witch in another one of her tight hugs. As usual, it surprised her, but she awkwardly patted her head.

“Thank you, Eda…I needed to hear that.” The girl mumbled into her mentor’s suit.

“Eh, don't mention it.” Eda said. And as they pulled apart, she hesitantly asked, “Do I want to know what you saw back there?” After that mushy heart-to-heart, maybe it would help Luz to talk about it?

Luz looked to the side, thinking. “Mmm…” Eda had reassured her that she's not weak for not facing her worst fear, but she was afraid of what Eda might think if she said it was her mother she was running from.

No, Luz thought. Didn't you just face her earlier by actually texting her? If you can get over that, you can talk to Eda. You can trust her.

“It's okay if you don't want to right now, I'm sure it's--”

“It was my mom.” Luz admitted.

Eda took her spot next to Luz again, ready to listen. “Your…mom?” A part of her worried that Luz’s mother couldn’t be a good person if she's her kid’s worst fear.

“Okay- well, technically, I don't fear her, just…her finding out I'm not in the human realm.” Luz said, trying to find the right words. God, when she thought about it, Grom is like a form of messed up therapy. Like that one show back home about a magic train. But at least Grom doesn't force you to stay aboard if you don't prove you're ready.

Is that why Principal Bump made it a school event? Therapy? Luz put that thought aside for later.

“Well…you say she doesn't know you're here. Where does she think you are?” Eda encouraged.

Luz continued. “Remember the first day I came here, when I said 'I'm not going to summer camp?’”

“Yeah?”

“So…my mom wanted me to go to this summer camp to uh, help me separate fantasy from reality. I took something too far at home, and I think it was her way of trying to make me ‘normal’.” Luz said, rolling her eyes making quotation signs with her fingers.

“Heh. Sounds a looot like the conformitorium.” Added the older witch.

Dammit, Eda, not helping. She knew Luz was weird, Hell, Eda was weird too, but it doesn't make sense to send her away. Even if Eda was more than happy to have Luz here.

“It does. But I know she was doing it for my own good. I think she just wanted me to have real friends. I just don't wanna know what she’ll think if she finds out I'm lying to her.” Luz thought back to the texts she sent to her mom. Technically she wasn't lying when she said she liked it here and the longer text she sent before Eda came in, but still… “If she knows I kept a secret from her, who knows what she'll think of me? Of this place?”

Eda thought for a moment. She never asked about Luz’s personal life before, but now that she knows a little bit, it feels like a piece of a puzzle fell into place.

“…I may not know her, but I don't think she'll hate you for not telling the truth. I know I wouldn't.” Eda said.

“You mean it?”

“‘Course I do. I meant everything else, too. Don't doubt that.” She said reassuringly. Luz responded with another awkward hug, and the events of tonight must've finally caught up to her because the kid’s eyes were starting to droop when she pulled away.

“Alright, how about we both settle in for the night, kiddo? You look tired.” Eda pointed out.

Luz yawned and nodded. “Mmh. Good idea.”

Eda stood up and headed for the door, but not before saying, “And Luz, if you ever need to talk, about anything…I'm here. I'm no good at this kind of stuff, but I wanna help.”

“Thanks, Eda. For everything.” Luz answered with her usual genuine smile. And with that, Eda left and closed the door behind her.

Luz has no idea how much she means to her and King, but Eda will make sure to let her know.

#my writing #the owl house #toh #owl house #mine #the owl house fanfiction #my fic #Eda Clawthorne #edalyn clawthorne #Eda the owl mom #mom eda #mother eda #mama eda #Luz noceda #found family #hurt/comfort #toh fanfiction #enchanting grom fright #self indulgence at its finest

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dwellordream · 3 years

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“…The common work of American pioneer children has become an essential story of frontier life. Less well known or acknowledged is that gender boundaries were often disregarded in the course of this experience. Daniel worked not only at tasks with his father but also at those normally seen as women’s work. To help his mother, he dyed cloth, carried water from the spring, helped to nurse the younger children, and cooked. His work was indeed diverse as he did what was needed with little complaint—or so he remembered years later when writing his memoir. Then at fifteen, he was separated from all of it—from his physical labor and from his pious parents (his mother’s favorite word was “wicked”). She was hardly indulgent of him, either in the work he was required to do or in the virtues he was expected to display while doing them.

Many boys did female work. Henry Clarke Wright, who became an outspoken educator and a radical abolitionist, spent his childhood helping his stepmother by babysitting, and much more. “He cleaned, he cooked, he washed.” In upstate New York, where his family lived in the early nineteenth century, he also did more masculine work “riding the horses, yoking and driving the oxen, bringing in the cows, harnessing and all the rest of the hard labor of the frontier farmer.” After his farming experience, Wright was left to become an apprentice in April 1814. Lonely, “home-sick” and with a “feeling of wretched- ness,” Wright learned to grow up fast. He also learned his own mind and how later to defend his extremely independent and unpopular views.

The American boys of the early republic grew early into independence. They were neither indulged nor coddled. They were given some say in the objects of their labor and, when possible, free time to play. But the children were also seen as “little citizens”—persons with capacity as well as potential. Some visitors were shocked by the results, but others were impressed. One Englishwoman observed, “You will see a little being that has not seen the sun make one circle of seasons, lay hold on a toy, not to cram it in his mouth and look stupidly at it, but to turn it curiously over, open it if he can, and peep in with a look as wise as that of a raven peeping into a marrow bone. One mark of early observation and comprehension never failed to excite my wonder. Little creatures feed themselves very early, and are trusted with cups of glass and china, which they grasp firmly, and carry about the rooms carefully, and deposit unbroken.”

There is, perhaps, a degree of exaggeration in such observations, finding the precocious engineer within the child not yet a year old. But in light of current findings by cognitive psychologists about the “scientist in the crib,” perhaps it is less a matter of exaggeration than a willingness to see even young children as more fully capable of independent thought and action than most Americans are accustomed to today. Americans at this time assumed that children needed less supervision and direction. This was true for girls as well as boys. By the time she was six years of age, Caroline Stickney (later Creevey), who grew up to be a nature writer, was expected to go to the doctor alone after she had fallen and severely injured her arm. It turned out to be broken.

“Mother was too busy to accompany me and there was nobody else. Besides children were taught to stand upon their own feet in these days.” Caroline’s regular tasks included bringing the cow to pasture in the morning and retrieving her at night, and, like Ulysses Grant, she was able from an early age to roam freely in the woodland that this future botanical enthusiast loved to explore and whose trees she climbed regardless of risk. At ten, she was allowed to ride the family horse; when she asked her father for directions to find a certain path, he made clear to her that she could find her own way.

Anna Howard Shaw had a more extreme experience, as her father sent his young family from Lawrence, Massachusetts, to which the family had migrated from England after Thomas Shaw’s bankruptcy, to the north woods of Michigan. There the children and their mother were left alone to establish her father’s claim to the 360 acres he had acquired, while he remained East to settle his affairs. Shaw’s mother, overwhelmed by grief and disbelief at the raw and trying circumstances, collapsed emotionally and was “practically an invalid.” This left the enterprise entirely to the five children. Barely twenty years old, Shaw’s oldest brother, James, was in charge. Anna was recruited to lay floorboards on the earth and frame windows and doors.

When even James left because he needed an operation that took him back to Massachusetts, the young children were left to fend for themselves, through a variety of “nerve-wracking” conditions and winters that “offered few diversions and many hardships.” Anna eventually took advantage of opportunities for schooling that led to her unflinching grasp at independence as a professional woman. In later life, Shaw was a crusader for women’s suffrage, and managed to become both a medical doctor and a minister. This kind of brutal induction into resourcefulness and independence, while not representative, was also not uncommon.

Girls and boys matured early, and Tocqueville, for one, believed that American children did not have or need an adolescence. The very young child, given the right to handle glassware or crockery, is a child invested with the capacity to act responsibly. Dr. Spock would note more than a century later that such confidence acknowledged that a child is eager to do “grown up things,” like feeding herself in the same way as the adults around her. And early work laid the basis for later habits. Anna Shaw noted that work had “always been my favorite form of recreation.”

The English commentator who saw precocious infant explorers poking around their toys was observing a different model of child development, one that was becoming as alien to middle- and upper-class Europeans of the nineteenth century as it is to us today. While European children of the middle classes were being treated as precious objects of solicitude, needing careful protection, American children who later became presidents, doctors, writers, and reformers were exposed to adult work and responsibility. And they were far less supervised. It was not only that class was more fluid in the United States in this period but that the specific expectations about children remained more fluid than in Europe.

Later in the nineteenth century, middle-class Americans, too, would begin to separate children from adult activities and treat them, as we usually do today, as fragile beings who needed special toys and risk-proof furnishings. But during this initial period when American society was being formed and the culture was laying down historical tracks, children were much more integrated into adult activities and given both more responsibility and more freedom. Most Americans in the first half of the nineteenth century viewed their children’s early maturity as natural, an expression of both the helping qualities they required in the young and beliefs about children’s abilities to be useful from an early age. It was a widespread phe- nomenon in many parts of the new country and remained an active part of the culture up to the end of the century, while elsewhere in the Western world, children were sentimentalized.

It was true for girls as well as for boys, observed in the eastern United States as well as the West, common among rural folk especially but in cities as well. Rachel Buttz’s father, Tunis Quick, was raised in the Shenandoah Valley in the early nineteenth century. His father was a well-meaning “generous, kindhearted man,” but his decision to back a neighbor’s loan impoverished the family, and soon after his mother’s death young Tunis was “hired to a neighbor who required him to do almost as much work as a full-grown man.” Just past ten years of age, Tunis quickly became responsible in other ways as well. Tunis objected to the slavery that was a feature of the area in which they lived, so at fifteen he urged his father to move the family to the North.

They stopped first in Ohio “where [he] was variously employed in farming, hauling goods and keeping a ferry on the Scioto River.” Having worked hard and impressed his employer, young Tunis obtained the means to buy a home in Indiana where the family finally settled. Tunis Quick learned early to assist his family as they struggled, and his sense of responsibility also gave him the ability to think independently and to have his views heard and respected. By what we would consider his mid-adolescence, he had not only directed his family’s migration north, but he was buying property for them. Tunis’s desire to leave a section dominated by slavery is also noteworthy, since it was the South, where slave ownership defined the society, that was the major exception to the developing democracy within families.

To some extent, the independence given to children grew from the ideals and values expressed in the Revolution since Americans believed that future generations had to acquire the characteristics that would maintain the principles enunciated in that event. But more than ideology was involved. No simple commitment to an idea can completely explain the behaviors so widely observed and the general willingness to heed children’s independent judgment. Ideology will not necessarily loosen a father’s grip over his sons when he had always expected to be obeyed and to have his commands met, even when he is committed to republican ideals. In the Southern United States, of course, this loosening of paternal power never happened, since slavery reinforced its grip.

And even in other parts of the United States, some observed the loosening of parental reins with concern and attempted to inhibit the young through new institutions of supervision, such as schools, as they recognized how much mischief could be loosed in a world guided by revolutionary principles. Not all Americans took kindly to the idea of children acting on their own. But a widespread independence among the young continued nevertheless. American life in the first half of the nineteenth century was defined by conditions that made such views about children necessary while the restless temperament of Americans made them ready for change and improvement. Together, these conditions provided children with the leeway to become more independent as they became more useful. Utility as well as ideology needs to be taken into account if we are to understand the families that produced a Grant, Drake, Quick, Shaw, or Wright.

The changing circumstances of the early republic resulted from both material conditions and political institutions. Together, these were widely understood as fundamental to the difference between Americans and Europeans. A shrewd, early observer of the difference, the Reverend Enos Hitchcock, sought to sustain the new revolutionary ideology through appropriate childrearing and education. “The systems of education written in Europe, are too local to be transferred to America; they are generally designed for a style of life, different from that, which is necessary for the inhabitants of the United States to adopt: they do not reach our circumstances, and are not suited to the genius of our government.”

To understand the American regime of domestic relations, we need to grasp just how unsettled, raw, and unpredictable the American land and the developing economy were during the important first half of the nineteenth century, since the experiences of American children and their parents were an expression of that reality. This dynamic new economy revised expectations about youth and what it could achieve. So did the laws governing inheritance and generational relations. The changes in American domestic life also transformed power relations between men and women, husbands and wives, and this, too, affected generational relationships in important ways.”

- Paula S. Fass, “Childhood and Parenting in the New Republic Sowing the Seeds of Independence, 1800–1860.” in The End of American Childhood: A History of Parenting from Life on the Frontier to the Managed Child

#american #the end of american childhood #paula s. fass #history

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galesh · 3 years

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Wish fulfillment au of Severus who was born in Albus' Dumbledore's time. I just wanted to post it as a reply on a discord server but then it got out of hand. So

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- Two clever swots duking it out... in academics!

- Debating each other of old spells and whether or not they're dark and the librarian jinxing them out of the library with hexes for being too loud

- Albus and Sev rubbing their stung bums and arguing about the hexes the librarian used

- Albus and Sev both discovering they're poor halfbloods and railing against the arswholes in charge who think they can sting their bums and get away with it

- Them stinging each other's bums because it's a fascinating body part and maybe rubbing them with a different set of hands because maybe it'll help, and they're experimental

-Albus viewing the fascinating kid with so much dark potential with new eyes.

-Sev keeping an eye out for the twinkly eyed twit because it's unnerving, really, and because he always found the goodness in others fascinating. He doesn't believe he can emulate it, but maybe some would seep through him in osmosis. That's what that muggle book said anyway

- His ma always said he had a thing for redheads. He's starting to suspect her of practicing black magic

- Albus and Sev working on potions and transfig together because none of them can tell the other they're bloody brilliant and that they're fascinated, and could we just get to stinging bums and rubbing out the soreness please

- Sev visiting the Dumbledore's on summer break because his father is dead and his mother as good as, meeting the creepy girl creature because he's nosy and of course he'd look at the one room Kendra told him not to

- Abe running to Ariana's room because she screams bloody murder. It's only when he gets there that he realises that that bloody snake they let into their house is being accosted by a happily shrieking Arianna who wants to meet this strange new black haired scarecrow her brother likes

- The older one

- Sometimes, Arianna suspects

- Sev being horrified by Ariana's sad tale, and not wanting her to waste away, working with Albus to make sure she can get out

- Abe (begging to) help them because he really wants to, and because he doesn't trust the snake

- Sev learns Abe can't bloody spell after the third time.he has to squint if the bottle has fluxweed or filchweed (Dyslexia is not recognised yet, but it will be, in the muggle world) amd tries to help. It's more insulting than helpful, but he tries!

- Albus feverishly searching for a way to fix what those muggle boys and their mother's imprisonment and his neglect have wrought. Searching in the darkest grimoires, because really, what is honor and goodness if it can't even help his sister?

- Ariana getting her father's silver signet, carved with the runes of protection, family, forgiveness and renewal. They can't fix her magic, but the magic she once loved has caused her loved ones only harm, and really, it's time to stop listening to the voice inside her, who wants to rip her mother to shreds and burn the whole world down

- In the end it's abe, who comforted her when her mum looked at her with hate and Albus ashamed who puts her ring on as she says the words the runes describe. It's hard to forgive her mother and those muggle boys, but Arianna thinks they've suffered enough (it'll be years later that she realises that she left one person, but as she watches her daughter's delightful coo as she Dan's her nose with a glowing goden finger, she is only thankful that her lack of forgiveness didn't take all her magic away).

- She kisses her brother-in-law to be on the cheek, as is only proper for a member of family.

(Ariana has a very feeble grasp on social niceties. She tries, okay! You try learning everything from books while trapped in a cottage like a demented princess, with a brother who even she knows has an unhealthy fascination with goats who'd talk to her normally)

(Arianna's husband and her daughter, who she names Severus --because every universe must have a second child with a severusly controversial name -- would really come to fear her social skills, or lack thereof. Severus blames her godfather and her uncle with a the raging hate of a 10 year old who's been denied Uncle Sev's sweets)

- Sev and Albus competing for the top spot in the classes with professors and the bottom in the classes without

- Albus meeting Gellert in the evening he's supposed to leave for France and noticing the same dark charm. Severus noticing, but wanting to taint it than emulate it

- A black owl pooping on Gellert's golden hair because he Does Not Share!

- Albus sharing his plans to Change The World which would kill a girl with beautiful, uncontrolled magic and put a vengeful father in a prison of his own despair

- Sev agreeing to them and adding some rather inventive and cruel revenges he'd have on the Wankers who disowned his mother for following her heart

- Albus crossing out those points with eyes that twinkle in gentle admonishment, because really Severus, where would you even get a fully grown basilisk, and ignoring the calculating glitter he gets in return

- Abe following the idiots because Ari orders him to help the idiots and he can deny her nothing

- Gellert becoming a Light wizard after being at the wand end of a particularly dark spell (they teach *that* at Hogwarts, the light school!?!?!?!?) By a vengeful gargoyle after he drunkenly kisses*Bruder* Dumbledore

(years later, Headmaster Dippet can't figure out why his newest Dada teacher is so militant about students knowing everything about Dark magic and why some magics should never be studied, or why flinches everytime he sees a mistletoe. He has enough experience at 300 Not To Ask)

- Albus learning the most beautiful healing spell at the hands of a scowling-dark-phoenix with moist, angry black eyes after the 12th use of a dragon's claw soon after he discovered the 12th use of their blood

(Fawkes could never forgive Severus Snape for stealing it's thunder. Also he smells owl. They're the worst!)

-Severus stealing the Flamels' thunder by creating a philosophers stone after being at their home for a month.

(Perenelle suspects it's because Nicholas, who can be really old fashioned about these things, forbade their apprentice and that brilliant boy with no thoughts from rooming together)

- Severus lacing Albus' lemon drops with the elixir of life because clearly, that imbecilic martyr thinks dragon claw wounds are amusing

- Albus lacing Severus' tea with it because it would be such a horrible thing to live alone

(or without the one person who matters, no offence to his family. Oh, alright Abe, you're definitely not it!)

(the elixir of life prepared yearly mysteriously dissappears into tea and lemon drops. Albus stops worrying over Severus getting killed by vampires while he gets their teeth in exchange of galleons like a demented tooth fairy, and Severus stops worrying about Albus getting nicked by antsy Dragons or Phoenixes or Nifflers, or whoever Albus scraps with in his spare time)

- Albus putting his demented convoluted plans in motion by destroying wizarding currency through inflation. It somehow leads to a goblin revolution, equal rights for magical creatures, and the adoption of muggle currency. Don't ask

(Rumour has it that Gellert, Wizarding Britain's champion one look at the the scowling face of a Severus Snape and proposes negotiations.

Muggle currency was great, really. Made mathematical sense, easier to handle, and twinkly eyed not quite evil overlords can't dependably reproduce all the identifiers. They hope

Quite coincidentally, as Severus will assure you, all the pureblood families --including the Princes, coincidentally-- lose all their accumulated money in the resulting changeover.)

- Albus rules everything from behind the iron curtain with gentle fists and an open smile. Everyone learns to agree with him because behind him stands the spectre of DEATHOMgWatdidyoudo that you want to always keep happy)

- An excited Tom Riddle learns about magic from a charming Professor who's really interested in how he speaks, and who agrees that muggles are awful but keep it down will you?

- Tom Riddle learns to confide in and trust the person who introduced him to the magical world; and tells him when he accidentally discovers the chamber of secrets while hissing open at one of the taps in the girls loo that just wouldn't dispense water (he was under a lot of pressure okay! No, he's not a creep!)

- Tom Riddle grows up to be a politician with a particularly hard view on those muggles. Being backed by the Headmaster of Hogwarts helps. The society has made great strides in the concept of equality and democracy however, and most creatures really don't like him for some insane reason. Albus Dumbledore wins the elections by a landslide again. Tom is tenacious, and plots for when he'd get the position after the old man dies

(On his deathbed, Professor Emeritus of Hogwarts, Professor Tom, curses todgy old men with unnaturally long lifespans)

-Harry Potter, who grew up loved and a headmaster who didn't want to train him in any way, shape, or form (Harry was glad. Headmaster Grindenwald was nice and all, but he really didn't want to know all about the Dark arts and why not to use them kplzthnx). He went on to work at the ministry because his mother instilled in him values of fairness, kindness, and Get Out The House And Go To Work You Bum!

(He named

- Ariana's first kid is named after Abe. Her second is called Severus. Severus being a girl, never forgives her, and years later, when her son is born, names him Ariana with a vindictive gleam in her eyes.

(Ariana never really learned a the social niceties. They're horribly ineffective, and Abe tells her she's always charming in any case)

(Severus Smith is comforted by the fact that her godfather is a immortal wizard who gives her the best sweets)

- Severus and Albus never really fall out of love, even though they fall out of bed many times. They are a different breed of men, really. Eternal devotion means eternal devotion, as they find out. The Flamels' are happy they finally get to go on what the muggles call double dates.

- They also never stop stinging each other on the bum, but that is a rather more mature tale.

#pls ignore #severus snape #albus dumbledore #snumbledore #for spider #discord has a 2000 character limit #how rude

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chaseatinydream · 3 years

Text

pirate king (45) || atz

The stunned silence brought on by the ludicrous request is broken by Commander Kang actually adding on to that preposterous behest. Even in your own stupefied daze, you somehow manage to hear the next words that leave the commander’s mouth.

“I also want my son, Kang Yeosang.”

Every thought flees your mind all at once, leaving only a barren mental landscape behind, a mere deserted wasteland. Time seems to slow down for you, air turning liquid as the words drift over to you gently like a fallen leaf swirling and eddying on the surface of a still lake. A moment of eerie calm is all you get, before the actual meaning of the words, with all the force of a sledgehammer, smash into you harder than a battering ram.

You’re terrified.

Numb, predatory fear prowls into your mind, nestling and rooting itself there before you can finally register its presence. It’s tormenting you, torturing you. Your base instinct screams at you to flee as fast as you can possibly run before this man can get his hands on you, but your legs are frozen to the deck. You can’t even scream if you wanted to, let alone run, and even if you could, where would you run to?

Your mind is pulled and twisted by fear and anxiety in all directions, but as much as you hate to admit it, doubt wells up in you.

Yes, you know that the crew think of you as one of their own. Yes, you think that they truly do care about you and that they would, under some of the harshest circumstances, never sacrifice you for their own interests.

But in response to this deal? The reward is too enticing, as alluring as fresh nectar to a honey bee. How do you even refuse an offer like this? Hell, you’re tempted to take the deal yourself, even if it means sacrificing yourself in the process. One crew member of the ship for the safety and security of the entire crew? When will you ever get another offer like that?

However noble you may want your intentions to be, though, you know that you’re selfish.

Because deep in you, you’re desperately wishing that your captain turns it down.

No matter how selfish that makes you, no matter what your crew has to give up, part of you is terrified of dying. It’s more than a mere survival instinct, more of a deep seated desire rooting in you. You can’t die, not now, not when you’re nowhere near the end of your journey-

At your own trail of thought, something claws at your heart, so painfully you actually feel it in your body. Shocked panic runs through you at the words that have just passed through your mind, because when you try to figure out exactly what they mean, the pain in your head grows more and more, from a mere throbbing to an agonising pounding of your mind.

Journey?

But before you can think your brain into a catatonic state, your captain speaks up, his voice trembling with fury, knuckles white around the handle of his cutlass as if he can’t wait to slice the man before him into a million tiny pieces. Even if it’s not aimed at you, the incensed, red hot rage is all too clear in his words, sending a shiver down your spine as your survival instinct screams at you to bolt.

“What. Do. You. Want. With. Them.”

Every syllable is shaking with vengeful fury, as if he can’t wait to rain hell’s wrath upon the Commander, but Kang Yongsun merely stands his ground calmly, eyeing the captain with a cool, collected gaze.

“I want my son back with me for personal reasons-” He begins, but San finally snaps, lunging forward furiously before Jongho catches him by the arm, yanking him back even though you can see from the battlemaster’s furious expression, he wants nothing more than to bludgeon the man before him to a bloody pulp as well.

“How dare you call him your son that after you were the one who abandoned him in the first place?” San screams, writhing against Jongho’s grip, his usually calm demeanour completely shattered into smithereens. For such a lithe man, your master is surprisingly strong, nearly wriggling out of Jongho’s hold before the young battlemaster catches him once again. “You f*cking destroyed him when you betrayed him like that! You’re a heartless liar!”

You too, can feel anger rising up in you even through your numb shock. From the little you had glimpsed of Yeosang’s memories, the navigator had truly looked up to his father, loved him dearly though he’d gone years without seeing his face, idolised him, even. When he had been given over to the Pirate King as the object of a deal, you had felt everything within him shatter like glass.

Yeosang had truly almost been destroyed beyond repair.

“It is not my problem that Yeosang was foolish and believed that I loved him.” His father states dispassionately, as if he doesn’t care the least about his only son. Horror and disbelief runs through you as you stare at the man. How can any human being be so… inhumane? “I never told him I loved him, so I’ve never lied to him in the least.”

Your heart drops in your chest. This man…

“Let me go, Jongho, let me kill that bastard! He thought you loved him!” San continues howling in rage, thrashing against the younger battlemaster. You’ve never seen your master in such an uncontrolled manner, and he’s not even drunk. “Yeosang almost starved himself to death the first few months he was on the ship because of this shithole, I’m going to kill him-”

“Mingi, bring San to my cabin and help me keep him there for now.” Your captain says coldly, obviously noting that Mingi’s barely restraining himself from swinging that huge axe and chopping Commander Kang right in half, seething with white knuckled fury. The quartermaster, clearly knowing that he’s going to do something reckless if he stays here any longer, merely grabs San around the middle and hoists him into the air, carrying him away from the main deck to the captain’s cabin, San screaming and swearing the whole way.

“And don’t you dare touch my apprentice! I’ll hunt you down to the ends of the earth and destroy you, you asshole-”

The cabin door slams shut, effectively cutting off the sounds of your master’s fury.

Then your captain turns back to the commander, who looks completely unruffled by San’s accusations and screams. For a moment, you’re actually terrified at how stony this man’s face is. His facade is as cold as ice, to the point it almost unnerves you. It’s nothing like the silent calm Yeosang possesses, but he instead has a far more menacing, emotionless demeanour, as if he’s more golem than you are.

You imagine yourself like that, briefly, for a moment. A body of clay, with silent, unblinking, dispassionate eyes. More soulless than any human being around you.

The mere thought of it scares you.

“And what do you want with Chin Hae?” Your captain then adds on with gritted teeth, barely managing to cling on to his own facade of calm. At the sound of your name, your hands start to shake from fear, but then Yunho takes your hand in his, gripping it tight.

You turn slowly to look at him, knowing that you probably look like the day you had first met, terrified of the death that was ever so imminent in that alley back in Raguza, except this time your fate lies not in your hands, but your captain’s.

Yunho meets your eyes with a nervous, uneasy gaze, but when he speaks, his voice is full of surety.

“Hongjoong-hyung would never give you or Yeosang up, no matter the price.”

And you believe him. Your captain had already endured so much for you and the crew, if not him, who else could you possibly trust with your life? His actions spoke louder than words, with his body he had already shown you his dedication to his crew back in Nassau. With the determination he had plunged straight into the sea witch’s den, you knew he was willing to give up so much for you.

Yes. Your captain would not accept this deal. You believe that, at the very least.

“I cannot answer.” Commander Kang answers calmly, but from his words alone you can tell he’s not lying in the least. “My superior officer has ordered for it, so I obey his orders without question.”

“Like a obedient dog cowed into mindless submission.” Jongho snarls mockingly, grounding the end of his mace against the deck. But Kang Yongsun doesn’t react to the sneer at all, instead nodding in agreement with the statement.

“I do my job as required of me.” He replies, his voice completely devoid of emotion, before turning back to look at your seething captain, his one eye now a bright, venomous green. “But even if you do not give the woman Chin Hae up to the Royal Navy in a deal, we will still be forced to hunt her down anyway. She has a bounty on her head as well.”

At that, Hongjoong actually flinches in shock. You yourself are confused, why would you of all people be targeted specifically by the Royal Navy? In comparison to all the other members of the crew, you’ve not committed as many crimes as they have, so why you?

“How much is it? The bounty.” Your captain demands tonelessly, and Commander Kang opens his mouth to answer.

And with his next words, you feel your mind melt into a puddle of incomprehension.

“One thousand gold pieces.”

You nearly spit blood in shock, and from the way Yunho’s body goes entire rigid, he’s just as stunned as you. One thousand gold pieces, you imagine blearily, as if you can’t think straight anymore. You must be going crazy.

It can’t be possible. You’d heard from Yunho that the bounty on the captain himself is five hundred gold pieces, wanted alive by the Crown. How can your bounty be twice the price of your captain’s?

That’s it. You’re either dreaming, drunk, going deaf or crazy, because you can’t be hearing any of this. None of it makes sense.

Commander Kang continues calmly, as if he hasn’t just dropped the biggest bombshell of the century on every person on board this ship simultaneously. “And our orders are to take her back alive, so you needn’t worry about her being killed in our hands-”

Hongjoong lunges with his cutlass faster than your eye can see.

There’s a clang of steel against steel as Commander Kang raises his blade just in the nick of time to save himself from being split from head to toe by the edge of your captain’s sword. Even for a man well past his prime, the Commander must obviously still be fighting fit, because his arms only tremble slightly when he holds his sword steady against your captain’s overhead slash.

They stand there for a moment, locked in some sort of stalemate, before the two of them pull apart, swords levelled at each other.

You realise that this is the first time you’ve seen your captain in action. Not the playful mock duels that he, Yunho and Jongho have on deck with the crew cheering them from the sides, betting on who would win, but an actual fight in which your captain’s eye is completely cold and calculating, reading his opponent’s every move, predicting every strike. Adrenaline floods your veins from the sheer tension in the air, but you’re frozen with numb shock.

Nobody moves as the two captains exchanged dark looks, charged to the brim with unspoken meaning.

“I should kill you where you stand.” Hongjoong hisses, lips bared in a snarl. But Commander Kang simply smiles through gritted teeth, keeping his blade at the ready for another surprise strike from your captain.

“But I’m the only one who knows why the Royal Navy wants the woman.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen your captain so incensed.

“Her name. Is. Chin. Hae.”

Whirling around, Hongjoong lunges forward with a flick of his wrist, the cutlass darting out like a snake’s tongue, ready to cut at least some part of his opponent’s sword arm off, but then the hooded man from the side slides between your captain and the commander in the blink of an eye, the longsword in his hands stopping the cutlass dead in its tracks.

The hood falls from the man’s head, revealing soft brown curls, soft, sweet features and a gentle nose, deep brown eyes that seem all too familiar to you even though you’ve never seen the man before in your life.

Why are they so familiar?

Because you’ve seen them on someone else before.

There are three rings braided in his hair, brushing his temple lightly.

Next to you, Yunho freezes, eyes going wide as if he’s seen a ghost. The spear actually goes clattering from his trembling hands to the deck, the sound unnaturally loud in your ears, his face turning white as a sheet as he manages to utter just a single word in disbelief, barely above a whisper.

“Gunho?”

On a ship somewhere in the middle of an ocean, a man sits silently in the cabin with his eyes closed.

He’s so still he might just be a statue, completely motionless. If it weren’t for the slight rise and fall of his chest, he could have been mistaken for a dead body. A minute passes, then two, the water clock in the corner making soft noises as it keeps track of the time.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Suddenly, the man’s eyes slide open, a sinister smile curling on his lips as he breathes in deeply, resting his chin on his fingers, the picture of calm and composure. However, his eyes dance with a terrifying, maniacal light, his deep blue eyes glowing ever so slightly in the dim room with some sort of unearthly gleam.

“The prophecy is finally coming to pass.” He sighs in pleasure, the dangerous purr of his voice like silk dragged across skin. “I knew you would do me proud... my son.”

There’s a knock on the door and he rises to his feet, stepping across the room. Soon, he will be free of all of this, he deserves more, so much more, he’s going to be the one with dominion over the-

“Captain! We’ve caught its trail!”

Twisted, depraved glee rises in him as his fingers dance on the hilt of the silver knife at his side excitedly. He pushes the door of the cabin opening, the sun’s rays crushed under his feet as he steps forward to the main deck, watching the sea of blue all about him.

He drags his tongue against the blade, a deranged grin on his lips as he seeks out his next prey. The sirens are easy targets, but they don’t yield nearly enough.

“Let’s go kill the hafgufa.”

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