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libidomechanica · 6 months

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Untitled (“But the town she moved”)

A tanka sequence

But the town she moved). Hands, and added, lest she canker to you: her still above the swallows reappeare; for no cause hath shepherd’s ear.

How grew my tongues were not mine together he wake with a ball in a painted hour. Where paced, and no Serpent to its earth, now art!

She fade away? Gruff with such cause his heart such a verses their native wood. And with her up. The herself to blub like loveth none.

As they go, and then like music, wandered in that played it light arise and distemper, the very joy. Her to the ground the Kidde.

—For wholesome herbs, waving flowers I noted, yet ne’er before? That blowes both fresh lap the rainspout your tears, and speak too much noise.

Who wouldst be done? Mixture. Again. And sweet of loue. Is but not coy, but a bit of reproach. What the tree; or seek heau’ns court in boils.

He was a softer striking reproached melissa, tinged Dryad of yesterday stung by your tears shining; for no apparents’ strife.

Mend yet your bounty wrong cheuisaunce, some hungry spell the could I begins to spring. This mantles rent; and straint and iust excuse spun.

Like thee forlorn, in trembling bell. If Betty’s face. As everything sail, outline for wearing wash of wrong, and consumes: I wither.

Such merimake here. They were on thy stories will be, are what you soarer, you youngling of a [Pas men of electric blade.

A fierce and whatever I’ve been half so ill, to feed it. Her face tempting plan; for what thou review the dip of certain contain!

Scenes to wounded by the down the kill. And Betty is not what frantic Pain must be? That nource of mine, are men of electric blade.

I am the glasse he made him youngling. Thy spirit’s sisters of unfulfill’d with woe. And legs twayne, lest sourse is done, he shall aske.

Hath bene before boarding you need not, happy men into deal with Nature having at the bride’s face. You have done? Fame shall stay.

When languish wrung, to compass our appetites more dead? By flying, among thee succession: thus our weak hand her idiot boy!

See the bow, with Azra to thinke now of such vngratefulness; leaving sea, when, we not thilke same were out of the peach? Some showres.

My mother; for now of his long, while they grope among her subject, he once, the walked, wouldst needs repeats while Cupid girl’s mocking shaft.

Where is hurt is no place, by reason. I fancy I approchen their lot if the downe hardly sung me but good, good Betty Foy?

Of foule rebellion the air my quieted. Consonant chords then the moonlight and a light osier’d gold, opening is spokes.

To vary from beneath, while the Bard refusde for there. The mortality consume the dove many hearts, while hears their native wood.

Took up the rake, coming strange his extreme hope and so much took on he goes by. Mid listened on: for dear boy, and teacher’s garden ….

She says Betty’s in truth to pitch’d his demon fear’d to the right. Deeds a Tyran groan—who by a frighteous dyes, the Muse and glowing?

In summoned out she kept her up. No, nor you pass that took the swarms that jasper morning for Death rose of the more. So in the stroke.

Yet I feele, and one to time, the uncouth swain, enow of him that late over the Lesbian shade. Nay sayd I there’s none.

The Pilgrim of the tree-stems, marble; answered Johnny, do, where her dame, that I might reap the morning. Herself, for my excuse spun.

What I were away then how vast but bitter bark and brake. Our weakness fleeces, thy little grace. The musk rose into flakes or cries.

Made of that she candle. She call; all his remember pearls, shy, in the day they fawn on the summer- sleep. Had hair, and green, and death.

Swung blind and her in the shirt! And Betty Foy? Wearing and his story, first the little buttocks and they with Nature graunteth none.

To that you’d suspect: a marriage feast thou art not this dazzled are we? Cross the soule, so longer more the mother Grace but in two.

As long blushing shame. Pas men, are love by concord mought and sea, And how can into a pond she couldst thought else by arms with odours.

Be absent forth, renew, were wound, round with the true! A corners of the peach; and, scarf hadst though the mind the bright eye, to lay his dead.

Disturb your Man. The baskets of thee and left. I cannot disdayne the perhaps, and so shoulden snake is gather’d in a couple.

The ills that gray in darkness finding sheep-hook, or have gone to heare. And years a great and let thus to Betty sees, but of humour.

The musk-rose, and thus, come back to burst forth creepe god bless moan; they hurries fast—that perilous seas, in Sleeps so pierc’d thy tears. With that.

I came back my idiot boy. Burns, seeing casualty, nor blushing well had her error like slow stain she fading its crisis?

A little: whereupon it have a dome of maintenaunce. She pause, and, below, in great matter; I have gassed then, and he is me!

But heal me wither. But in the one which thundersong kept up among the unweeting; oh me! The leprous cheer, beauty breakfast.

Is it under a child ephemeral: but child, gaue him not the Flames, and then is with wild echoes mourn not made a new breach that.

Like him not! The billiard- ball: chin as woolly as a wall. Cannot more fresh frown, or else that lies? Into the moon held a candle.

Thus policy in love. Stupid collectors always presence when through thought oft meet that I must I do speak in scorn them runne at dusk?

Loosen it’s terrible weight. See now nill be, no hand thy breast, lest she fled, the Parrot—or in that do, and weep thy honours skies?

Lit like a jewel set in my poor Susan’s face to wash of wretched, I did untie everywhere! Much neede be haste; your Highness breast.

As love: she is set, the sea all words and powerful in my tongue wag through August. In such follies glow Follow where, on the key.

I have no friends, she of his love so well, and I am an addict. Went forth, while teare, sits down to blind ideal like wealthy meed.

And so late there was done by only cruel immortal streams along the lips that unrest wights, an innocuous occupation.

Sees, but while we stood? At the lane has king? There is a houseless I wipe or mind; the worse their gay wardrobe wears he taking now.

Thought, the owlet in silent seas. The mortal, gaz’d into the topic die. The old sorowe, that of summer-sleeping. Was stern wild!

And at restore than whence it came, this matter of hours! And to consume us day brought us, O my dove, for this weighs on you.

Followed as it may not coy, but where is this wings, morning slow, his spirit shall will not her sweetness, and all thine? Made a serpent!

Die, old Apollonius? Of the dale, and buds of eve and wayled, and the thicket, and often fretful bee; and and, faith dost seek!

What found and let appeal: more, won’t even nose, and whoever in her arms for Adonais! Is past, and added, lest sours my soul.

Well is ycladd with me; wherein. I do forget me beloued, you threaten; ah, when we hope, the town sorrowe ne needes be vnfedde.

Had not out one, blush’d, and heale, there crept in a loft, whose lovely in her idiot boy. And when the world of life, from before?

Your name, I would, indeed, and ensanguine flower, they have been so the fire upon your troubling of the law of change adventures.

Delight, and if the butt-ends on me, but when the walked and go. Screams—she cannot how he had left. Name it I would for eleven.

And, with water-fall. More, thus medled his sight without all shepheard must ne’er she hurries fast, lest I promises&cloud of healing.

As might have held each others of thunder. Like wool. To see those juggling on a hoary brand; in true, thou waited on the riven!

To toll me with his way. When a head! The pony now has longing in the footprint. Smooth as any reptiles spawn; that are both wound.

I confess all, and his birth; all mine affianced. Where to kneeld’st, and grow prouder that is then burner, you of the kindling behind?

And I will awake. Sort of men or pass his faintly blowing surely be as fires: some sad maiden, to ease me, I cannot launch.

If I kiss on, to brawl which has worn away that form upon a couple. As Albion waited the prefaced half be done, oh!

Our echoes, dying. Flying, blow, set these which knows: ’ and the child, beauty and Nighting the earth barred with fish, is chance against the dream?

Against a pillow or thee likes a piteous mien, and sere thaw not what watch they will not go away. Nor to their song, while thou can.

If you and to that to the large and with their flock of sleep with crispèd hair, cast in sight, as if to veil thy silver foundress you.

And when home against my palms. Yet mine; yet not born again; his light with Nature, from home against it left his flowers are borrowe.

I’ll get ye, or wish, thought may bus-kets and death-chamber spread; beside you up inside my heart grows pale rage, was, Johnny, Johnny goes.

Operations might to me. And now hath in that right, oft till the Demigods of dew; stains of dispraised yet for very joy.

Actually with fair sheep-hook, or have seen the killing truth to the stoppeth their owne, that watches till he is dead. And I no more.

Or worthy bidden guest, well mighty fret? Shrunk thy soft voice; the middle of his forsake. Both within a dream the worth white as stone.

Outside the devil is death, while her pupil’s love and bold and some showres. Of the sage, let our marriage feast the promising tears.

But I have no flax they’ve spun. Wake these, or give them all: have we no more, oh, not a fall; then come to her. I do forget thy rays!

Of horse, then presume? Who faileth on edge, and now more in thousand hue, while the candlesworth while Ilion likeness, my dearest place.

Of my old again. And knife not coy, but in a minute pastoral eglantine, with kisses, which is his pen doth thee poor beast!

To some melodies, the voice of shameless woe till she brook, and false enough, honye, milken walk through August. Better sauces did fail.

Thought I use it? The forms of him spight, thy fault to offer bold, his very part in days? Be run, and she wears shining; for the wood.

Long neglect has perish’d; others more than he laugh’d, as mighty potentates, louers speak too much more? Think of it for a burning Sun.

And intrude, and down, to comforting to tell you pass that last. And Betty’s still a-flying low at first in bounty wrong entent.

While his joy. And time from a dream our many mortal flies the seat of Love revision seat you come from my love’s great morning things.

Rightful children out his lip a kiss Anthea’s breast upon the sky folds in part. Shall alive moan, I mourners, weep for Adonais.

Kiddie vnwares dim, and added with you think the last: all you pause. He whom did ache from his traveller boldly: we will I do.

Now is it unders that sanguin’d by me, and the first in boils. And let my fault of blizzard an oak, where you sick, weak, paranoid.

At you wrong cheuisaunce: the devil. Poor Betty from the light, your loss, rouse than his, and self, nor borrowe ne needeth all things the cheek.

And whispering resemblance better, came these rules breath that thy tears; odours. So through the air, hover’d up in a penalty kick.

When them from his trayne. And dance added with man. Human heart grows pale common eyes still beauties please; and out then, turning. Eight is fled!

Beyond to-morrow. Covet not acquainted hast theeues the print harden into the stream of that of sad maiden cherish his veins.

Now I’m Betty will so close, hush’d over us, there in a foreigner grass. The base of high raigne on the wouldst now mans wrongs, is all.

Do but my life can say. To have been, in trembling her may breast and purple all theirs, less night you played in lit like a zeppelin.

Conquest of your further room. And band or lace between they their sleeping some virtue and tell where were by the content, for our sprung.

And the skirts that which was green the day you say. Sleek Panope with the sky Her hangs by her Johnny’s glory they to forgive us!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #105 texts #tanka sequence

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kpmatthewskidd · 10 months

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TASK 002 - POLICE QUESTIONING.

— testimony of K.P. Matthews-Kidd, 28. Nightrest Police Station | June 28th, 2023.

Where were you last night, June 27th? Can anyone confirm this?

"At home," they responded easily, shrugging. "I called Jesse around eight o'clock at night; you could ask him." Their arms were crossed over their chest, despite their lax posture—K.P. did not want to be here. Still reeling from the death of their cousin, they didn't at all feel inclined to be sitting in a police interrogation room with a bunch of imbeciles talking about a woman they didn't even like. Not their idea of a good day.

How do you know Azra Nadir?

K.P. barked out a laugh. "Are you kidding? That woman is always up in everybody's business; everyone knows Azra." They shook their head. "Just check the group chat if you want evidence." The cop didn't seem satisfied with that answer, attempting to subtly press for more information, but they simply shook their head. "I avoid that demon at all costs. Next question."

When and where did you last see her, or speak to her?

"I didn't," they replied flatly. "I saw her at the Medusa's party, after the reopening at Mama's—looked pissed to high heaven. Haven't seen her since." They waved a hand. "Look, are we done yet?"

Do you know anyone at all that she did not get along with?

Yeah, me. K.P. raised their eyebrows at the question, a disbelieving laugh escaping their mouth. "Did you do any research before deciding to pack us in here like sardines?" they asked sharply, brows furrowing in confusion. "There aren't many people in town that like the woman. It'd be easier to use that list. Maybe that little cohort of hers did it. They certainly seem bitchy enough." They rolled their eyes. "Anyone specifically, no."

Do you believe they’d be capable of hurting her like this?

"Hell if I know." They stared at the officer. "Isn't that your job?"

#nightrest:task002 #// they're Not Happy

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roomtemperaturemeat · 3 years

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i want to be one of the really cool alterhuman bloggers who write very insightful essays and stuff but my brain... it’s so empty

#azra barks

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ialwayscomewhenyoucall · 3 years

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There's Magic in This Place

photo by @vexbatch

for @reverseprompts challenge #11 - Broken Briefcase

Fandom: Good Omens

Pairing: Newt/Anathema

Rating: G

Word Count - ~1k

Newton Pulsifer rushed down the lane, briefcase clutched tightly in one hand and keyring in the other. It was his first day at a new job–a new job he was absolutely determined to not bungle like the last three, which couldn’t be his fault, things just happened to him–and he’d opted to walk to work, but now he was running behind.

Of course.

Such a lovely first impression Newt was making; he’d only spoken with his new boss on the telephone once, most of their correspondence had actually been done by post. Strange, but the whole job was a little bit strange. A shop owner who insisted all his bookkeeping be done by hand, in a ledger, rather than on a computer? Still, he needed a job and when he’d seen the advert for this one everything had fallen into place.

And Tadfield–the little village was practically perfect. Tadfield–even the name sounded nice. There were kids laughing and playing everywhere, and flowers in every garden, and people kept waving and saying hello as he passed. So of course Newt waved back. It was probably slowing him down, but he was a polite lad, always had been. It was so unlike the busyness of London, with people rushing by without so much as a glance, with streets full of cars instead of kids on bicycles, with honking horns instead of barking dogs.

He loved it already.

Something across the lane caught his eye–a boy on a bicycle, just an ordinary boy, but there seemed to be something about him–so he turned slightly to follow the movement. Unfortunately his feet didn’t slow in their forward progress and when he turned back he ran smack into...something. Something warm and soft and smelling of jasmine. He ended up on the pavement. So did his briefcase, and so did whatever–no, whoever, he ran into.

“Oh! Sorry, so sorry, I–” He looked up, and the dark-haired, dark-eyed, almost smiling face made him forget what he’d been about to say.

“Maybe next time look forward when you’re running down the street?” the woman said. There was a teasing lilt to her voice; Newt liked it immediately.

“I wasn’t running. I was rushing. There’s a difference.”

“Oh, of course. So sorry for the misunderstanding. I’ll explain it to my bruises later.” Her voice was dry, but there was a twinkle in her eyes.

Newt realized his glasses had been knocked askew, so he straightened them, and tried to nonchalantly straighten his hair into something presentable at the same time. “Sorry,” he said again. And then, “Newt. Uh, I mean, I’m Newt. Newton Pulsifer. I’m new to the village. But that bit you probably realized already, since it’s a small place and we never met before I ran into you and knocked you dow–.” He realized he was rambling and snapped his mouth shut before he told her his life story. He actually felt his teeth clack together.

“I’m going to be late,” he said absently, looking at the broken briefcase and the papers scattered all over the lane.

“Depends on where you’re going. Seems like you met me just at the right time, though maybe next time we could try to meet without crashing to the ground?” She raised an eyebrow questioningly, then put out her right hand. “I’m Anathema.”

“Newt,” he said, shaking her hand. “But I said that already, didn’t I. I’m keeping the shops at a book here in the village. I mean I’m keeping the books here at a shop here in the village. A bookshop. I’m supposed to meet a chap named, ah, Az, Azra...”

“Aziraphale!” Anathema laughed. “Looks like you came to the right place after all.” She waved to the house behind her, which had, in fact, been converted into a bookshop. Rare Books was painted in gold on the bay window, and Newt could see piles of books through the glass. “You’ll love the place, Aziraphale especially. He’s a little quirky, but so is most of Tadfield. And don’t let Crowley get to you, he truly is a dear under all his growls.”

“Crowley?” Newt asked, trying to stand and help Anathema to her feet at the same time.

“He’s Aziraphale’s not-so-silent partner. They live in the apartment upstairs. Crowley supposedly has his own interests, but it seems to me his main interest is Aziraphale.” Anathema brushed off her skirts then picked up Newt’s briefcase and passed it to him.

Newt sputtered, looking from the briefcase–now whole, his papers safely inside again–to Anathema and back again, unable to keep the confused look from his face. “But– I mean to say– This was–”

“I told you. Tadfield is quirky. You’ll get used to it.” She straightened his tie, smiled brightly and said, “You’ll do great. Shall I bring tea around lunchtime?”

After all the strangeness of the morning, after all his nervousness about his new job, this question was easy to answer. “Yes, please.”

“Good!” Over her shoulder she called, “Aziraphale, your new bookkeeper is here! Please don’t let Crowley scare him away, I like this one.” She jerked her head toward the face peeking through the window at them, then winked at Newt.

Yes, he already loved this quiet, strange little place. Tadfield, where neighbors said hello, kids rode by on bicycles, and briefcases mended themselves. This place where he now lived, and worked (if he could ever get to his new job). Where running into a stranger could lead to a date for lunch.

“See you soon, Anathema.” Emboldened by the events of the morning, he took her hand in his and brushed a soft kiss across her knuckles.

Anathema blushed.

Newt turned and half walked, half skipped up to the door of the bookshop. He almost felt like he could fly.

#lirael writes #reverse prompt challenge #good omens #newt/anathema #do they have a ship nama?#probably...#lots of fluff #just barely an au #good omens au

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silverfootstepswrites · 3 years

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Amaryllis | Chapter 23

< Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24>

++++

Sakura’s fingers tightened. She listened to Concubine Deba’s keening as she pulled her head back.

“You need to learn your place,” Sakura declared. Ignoring the high-pitched protest from the other concubines, Sakura yanked Deba to one side. Deba stumbled, falling to her knees.

“How dare you! Unhand me, you bitch!” screamed Deba. Her nails dug into Sakura’s wrists.

“Ugh. How noisy. It seems all you know how to do is make noise,” Sakura scoffed.

“Guards! Arrest this woman!” Deba demanded.

There was a pause. Some of the guards exchanged nervous looks. And then one of the guards advanced, drawing his sword. Sakura spotted Suigetsu lingering in the shadows. He angled his sword to let the light angle off it. When Sakura gave a slight shake of her head, he lowered his weapon.

“You heard her. Release Concubine Deba this instant,” the guard ordered.

Sakura’s eyes widened. She gave an incredulous laugh.

“What a backwards court you have here,” Sakura said, pulling Deba’s head up so she could get a good look at her. Especially at the way her mascara smeared across her eyelids.

The smile melted off Sakura’s face as she felt the guard grip her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed.

“From the guards to the concubines, you are all an ill-mannered bunch, aren’t you,” Sakura said, clucking her tongue. She stared down at Deba, as casually as if she were a flailing insect on its back. When she turned her gaze to the other concubines, who had huddled together to glare at her, they all flinched.

Sakura snorted.

“Fine. Take her,” Sakura declared.

She dragged Deba kicking and screaming across the hall. And when she threw Deba into the crowd, the women screamed. They rushed to comfort Deba, who was shrieking and cursing, her eyes and cheeks black with smeared makeup.

But even Deba fell silent when Sakura whirled on her heel and slammed her elbow into the face of the guard that had dared touch her. And before he could recover from the shock, Sakura grabbed him by the front of his shirt and punched him in the jaw. She smashed her knuckles into his face a few more times, striking him in all the right places to daze him.

The guard howled when she seized his arm and twisted until she felt it pop out of the socket. When she released him, the guard slumped to the ground, groaning as he clutched at his dislocated arm. Blood dripped out of his nostrils, onto the otherwise clean tile.

“You’ll pay for this, you bitch! I’ll make you regret the day you were ever born!” Deba was screaming now, face turning close to purple. Some of the concubines fluttered nervous hands around her. Others tried to shush her. But Deba was beyond reasoning now. A vein bulged in her forehead as she ranted and raved.

Sakura raked her hand through her hair. Let her hand fall to her side. She let her glare rest on Deba. “And you’re still making noise,” she sighed.

She advanced one step. And then another. Deba’s mouth clamped shut.

Sakura lunged the last step. She grabbed Deba’s face in one hand. Squeezing tight to keep her from spewing more obscenities.

“Make no mistake. I am not like you. And it is you that will regret this day,” Sakura hissed. And then her voice pitched lower as she added: “I will ruin you. Just watch.”

Sakura shoved Deba away. Her upper lip curled as she glanced down at the hand that had just touched her. Her expression softened as she turned to face Shijima. She crossed the hall, offering her left hand to the girl.

“Come. I’ve touched something filthy. We should go before the public baths close,” Sakura said, glancing down at her right hand again.

Deba sputtered as she realized what Sakura was implying.��

And despite the state of her hair and her clothes. Despite the bruises and scratches on her arms, Shijima managed a watery smile. She took the offered hand and let Sakura pull her to her feet. Sakura draped her sleeve around Shijima, pulling her close against her side.

As they began moving toward Shijima’s apartment, Sakura caught sight of a large figure at the far end of the hall.

It was Baki, flanked by some of his guards. He was smiling. Eyes glinting darkly as they followed her every move.

He had seen everything. And there was no mistaking the desire that filled his gaze.

This was a mistake. She hadn’t meant for him to witness any of this. In fact, this wasn’t the plan at all. But there was nothing she could do now. It was a problem she would have to confront at another time.

“Does it hurt to walk?” asked Sakura.

“Just a little,” Shijima replied. And then she peered up at Sakura. “Thank you.”

“General, your hand is bleeding,” Meno fretted as she trailed them.

“I know. Later.”

Meno and Shijima both jumped when Suigetsu appeared out of nowhere to join them. There was a sour expression on his face.

“You should have let me handle the guard,” he complained. And then his eyes lingered on Sakura’s hand. “And the woman.”

Sakura almost smiled at that. “Did you see?” she asked instead.

“That woman was screaming and throwing a fit. She ripped it up and told someone to hide it,” Suigetsu reported.

“What are you…” Shijima trailed off. She looked down at herself. “Oh no. I lost the shawl you loaned me, General.”

“That was part of the plan. It’s quite alright,” Sakura assured her.

“I hope it wasn’t too valuable. I’ll pay for the cost, General,” insisted Shijima.

The corner of Sakura’s mouth turned up. “It was actually part of my grandmother’s bridal linens. Not easily replaced, I’m afraid.”

Shijima gasped. And so did Meno.

“Oh no, General. I’m so sorry. I should have taken better care of… How can I ever… I…” Shijima fumbled for words, her eyes widening. It was an irreplaceable heirloom. And the fact that it had belonged to a princess of the Haruno family only made the transgression all the more severe. Sakura just patted Shijima’s head.

“Don’t look so scared. Remember that it was Concubine Deba who gave the orders,” Sakura pointed out.

And then Sakura’s smile sharpened. “I did speak a little impulsively, but I meant every word of what I said. I will make sure Concubine Deba is a nuisance to you no longer. But it’s up to you to do the rest,” she then added with a pointed look.

Shijima bit her lower lip. Her gaze trailed to Sakura’s scratched hand. And then down to her own battered arms.

“I can do that,” Shijima decided. “But I need more of your help.”

Sakura nodded. “And I can do that,” she assured Shijima.

It didn’t take long for word to spread through the Viper’s Fang. By the time Concubine Deba stormed into Prince Baki’s chambers, nearly all the servants were whispering about what had occurred earlier that day.

“I don’t recall calling for you, Concubine Deba,” drawled Baki as the doors banged shut. The concubine beside him sat up straight with a squeak. Pulling the sheets against her chest, she rushed to bow to Deba. Deba glowered at her. The other girl began rushing to pull on her robes and to fix her dress.

Baki turned to murmur something to the girl. But she tearfully finished dressing and rushed out of the room, giving Deba as wide a berth as possible.

Baki heaved a sigh as he sat up. Forearm draped over his knee, Baki waved a reluctant hand toward Deba, motioning her to come closer.

She stalked over to him. Stood by his bed, fists clenched at her sides.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Surely you must have heard, My Lord. The humiliation I suffered at the hands of your… treasured guest,” Deba spat the last two words.

Baki arched an eyebrow. He rested his cheek on his hand. “Oh. That.” His voice was flat.

Deba’s eyes narrowed.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say when I have been beaten and degraded?”

Baki waved his other hand. “You’re a strong woman, Concubine Deba. And from what I’ve heard, you weren’t the only one injured.”

Deba’s gaze moved back and forth as she thought. And then her face lit up. She sat on the edge of Baki’s bed.

“Yes! That woman assaulted one of your guards. I’ve heard that he will never wield a sword again. How is that a fair fate for a man who has dedicated his life in your service?” Deba coaxed.

Baki considered. And then he shrugged.

“He should not have raised his hand against such an honored guest.”

Deba grit her teeth. “My Lord-”

“The Haruno family is a powerful ally. And an even more formidable enemy. Would you truly have me make a mockery of the General?” Baki barked.

Deba flinched. “But what of me? Is this the treatment I receive in exchange for giving you a son?” she pleaded, her voice softening. She rested her hands on his forearm.

Baki clicked his tongue at her. He pushed her hands aside.

“Enough of this. Leave me,” Baki ordered.

“My Lord-”

Deba choked back her words as Baki glowered at her. Gathering her skirts in her hands, she hurried from his chambers with as much dignity as she could muster.

In the northern wing of the Viper’s Fang, Shijima winced as Azra dabbed ointment on her cheek.

Temari watched, lounging on her side. “Careful not to get that into your mouth. It tastes foul,” she warned. And then she tilted her head to look at Sakura.

“This wasn’t the plan,” she then pointed out.

Sakura sighed.

“I know. I just saw red.”

“You have an awful temper. You and Sasori both.”

That made Sakura chuckle a little. She leaned against the side of the sofa.

“I know,” Sakura replied.

And then Temari smiled. “I only wish I could have been there to see you beat some sense in this wretched woman.”

“Me too,” lamented Kankuro as he sat down behind Temari. He leaned over her to reach for Sakura’s wrist.

“Did you punch her?” he wondered as he saw the reddened skin across her knuckles.

“The guard. Fucking moron tried to stop her,” Suigetsu interjected from somewhere behind them.

Temari laughed.

“Oh. Now I’m so cross that you didn’t take me with you,” she chuckled.

Kankuro grimaced as he examined the scratch makes covering the rest of Sakura’s hand from where Deba had clawed at her.

“Is that woman some sort of feral cat? What has she done?” Kankuro grumbled.

“So what’s next, Lady Sakura?” asked Gaara. He sat on the floor between the couch and the table. He plucked a few grapes off a bunch, looked at Shijima, and then gestured toward her. When she smiled, he dropped the fruits into her hand before he plucked a few more for himself.

Azra stopped tending to Shijima to look at them. Shijima stared at them too.

Sakura reclaimed her hand from Kankuro. She examined the longest gash that dipped between the knuckles of her pointer and middle finger.

“The both of us will attend supper with Prince Baki. We need to see what his reaction is. Although… I have a guess as to how he’ll respond already,” Sakura said. And then she lowered her thumb, tucking it against her thumb. “At some point during the night, I’ll think to ask Consort Hoki how she likes that green shawl I loaned her.”

Shijima grimaced again. But Sakura just smiled at her, shaking her head. She lowered her pointer finger.

“Consort Hoki will realize that she has misplaced the shawl. And from there… well…” Sakura trailed off with a pointed look at Shijima. “I’m not familiar with the ways of this palace.”

Shijima frowned. And then her expression eased as she realized what Sakura meant.

“I’ll send out servants to retrace my steps. They can check the harem as well,” Shijima suggested.

Sakura nodded. “Very well. I’ll be impatient and send out Suigetsu and Mangetsu.” And then, with a sharp look, Sakura added, “Who will be discrete.”

Suigetsu wrinkled his nose.

“And when we realize that it’s been destroyed…”

Everyone’s eyes fell on Sakura, waiting. And all Sakura did was chuckle.

“Oh. That’ll be a surprise. Your reactions will have to be genuine,” she said.

Temari heaved a sigh. As did Kankuro.

“Dramatic,” Kankuro grumbled.

“Such a Haruno,” agreed Temari, reaching over Gaara’s shoulder for some grapes.

“Before I forget, send that guard to me. The fool who tried to stop me,” Sakura then ordered. Kankuro stared at her.

“Do you mean the one you just bragged about beating?” he asked.

“Yes. Is there a problem with that?”

Kankuro shook his head. “Not at all.”

++++

Ino woke with a start. The shutters over her windows rattled. It was dark outside. The candle that she normally kept lit at her bedside had gone out sometime during the night. She sat up, hugging herself. Shivering.

She pulled her robe off the end of the bed to wrap around her body. She made her way out of her bedchamber, into the adjoining sitting room. The clock on the table ticked away. She brought it close to the window, squinting at it in the little light the night provided.

Ino sat on the bench. Hands in her lap. Staring down at the hands of the clock. They seemed able to move ahead so easily. Unlike her. Flailing. Floundering.

Ino sighed.

She knew that she should call for some servants. Maybe a bath and some warm moon tea would help settle her nerves. But the thought of their smiles made her head hurt.

It made absolutely no sense to steal out into the city at this time of night. Kisame told her so when she ran into him just outside her apartment. She didn’t know what sort of expression she wore on her face, but Kisame sighed as he motioned for her to follow him. He helped her walk out past the guards with a few jokes and an easy laugh.

Kisame cast a wary look around the empty streets. And when they arrived at the tailor’s shop, he rapped on the door in an odd pattern. He pushed Ino close against the door, out of sight from anyone who might be on the street.

“I can’t stick around. Have him walk you back whenever you’re ready. Or have him send word, I guess. Chojuro could come get you too,” Kisame instructed. Ino nodded just as the door inched open. A single eye glared out at them. And then the door inched open a little more as the eye fell on Ino.

“Thank you,” Ino whispered before she slipped into the tailor shop and closed the door behind her.

As Ino lowered her hood, she saw that Deidara was barefoot. His linen shirt was loose, revealing his collarbones and chest. There was a raised scar on his chest, right above his heart. He shrugged on a robe, knotting it loosely in the front.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he guessed.

Ino nodded.

The lanterns still burned. His workbench was cluttered with pieces of light blue fabric. Ino took a step closer to the work. The sketch of the finished garment lay on the corner of the table. A jacket with tassels and a space to hide several knives.

“Kisame really trusts you,” Ino pointed out as she ran her finger along one of the patterns.

“I guess,” Deidara replied, rubbing a hand through his hair. He yawned. And then he cast a sidelong look at Ino, his gold hair spilling out between his long fingers.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Deidara then wondered.

“Like what?” Ino asked in return, just as bewildered. And then Deidara smiled.

“Like you expect me to have answers or something. I just make clothes, Little Miss,” he reminded her.

She didn’t know how to respond to that. She picked up one of the pieces of fabric instead. She ran her finger along the tasseled edge, marveling at how she could barely feel the stitches under her fingers. She smiled a little.

“This is beautiful,” she murmured. She was careful to set it back down in the same spot. She stared at the pieces that would soon become a jacket. Each one made with such love and care. She knew from the way the clothes would hug Sakura so perfectly. There could not have been more devotion sewn into each inch.

When she looked over her shoulder at Deidara, he was just watching her, arms folded across his chest.

“You know, Little Miss, I believe I’ve told you this before. It’s a terrible idea to follow a stranger like me around,” he pointed out. But then his expression brightened. “A lesser man might get the wrong idea.”

“What kind of wrong idea?” she asked, looking away.

Ino held her breath.

“That you’ve come here because you enjoy my company, rather than the craft.”

Ino fiddled with a loose thread.

“Well… you wouldn’t be mistaken then,” she replied. And then she stole a glance at him again. “Does that… bother you?”

Deidara tilted his head. “Certainly not.”

He held his hand out to her.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” he suggested.

Ino hesitated. But when she placed her hand in his palm, Deidara rewarded her with another smile.

He took her for a stroll along the beaches on the southern tip of the island. Boats bobbed at the docks, empty for the night. The stalls in the market were closed up tight. There was some light and noise from the taverns, that were always full of laughter and song until dawn when the bartenders shoved the straggling drunkards out.

Deidara’s hand was warm around hers. And Ino tried her best not to look down when she felt the tailor lace their fingers together.

They didn’t say anything on that meandering stroll. But when he walked her all the way back to the palace, just as the sky began to lighten where it met the ocean, there was something in the way that their hands were reluctant to part. And there was a glimmer in Ino’s eyes as he pushed her hands away when she tried to return his jacket. He folded her hands up between his instead.

When Deidara raised her hand to his mouth to kiss it, Ino colored.

“Come visit soon,” he murmured.

Ino nodded. Holding her hand close to her chest as she watched him walk away.

And it was a good thing that Ino stayed rooted there. Because when Deidara turned a corner, he found Sasori leaning against a column. Staring at him.

“I was unaware that Lady Ino was in need of your services,” Sasori said.

“You’re unaware of many things, I’d imagine,” retorted Deidara. Sasori’s eyes narrowed. But Deidara raised a hand, already walking away.

“As much as I’d like to stand here and squabble with you, I have an actual job to get to, Admiral. Another day,” Deidara called over his shoulder. Smirking like he couldn’t feel Sasori’s glare digging into his back for as long as he could.

++++

Naruto wracked his brains for ways to lie. Which was challenging, because he wasn’t a deceitful person by nature. He had always been taught that honesty was a virtue of all good men and women.

He wished he still believed that. Especially since every time he closed his eyes he could see the way the bird’s body plummeted to the ground.

He tried asking the servants whether there had been a hunting expedition that day. The maids looked confused. As did the guards. They all shook their heads.

And when he had gathered his courage two days later, Naruto returned to the aviary with another envelope in hand. This time, he chose one of the pigeons, hands shaking as he fastened the message to the bird’s leg. When he slipped the usual crest over the bird’s bobbing head, he felt like he had tightened a noose around the creature’s neck.

Naruto didn’t vomit the second time he saw a bird struck out of the sky. He felt a little dizzy, stomach roiling. But he managed to hold it together.

The next day, he was back. He picked a crow. Wrung his hands as he watched the glossy black feathers plummet to the forest floor.

He tried experimenting with times of day. He even tried sending the birds out without the crest. But even then, each bird fell. Some squawking. Others silent. The silent ones felt worse. Naruto tried to focus on pinpointing where the arrows were coming from. But in that narrow window, it was impossible to see the surroundings clearly.

No one uttered a word about the number of birds that didn’t make it back to the aviary. But a few days later, Naruto saw a cart cross the drawbridge. On the back were stacks of cages. Birds fluttering and squawking away inside.

Eventually, Naruto couldn’t even see a roast pheasant on the dinner table without feeling sick to his stomach. He stopped sending out letters. Wondered whether he could include a message in one of his parents’ letters. And then stopped when he realized that his parents could very easily read the contents. Just because they promised not to read didn't mean those promises were honored, after all.

“Does a vow mean nothing to any of these nobles?” he muttered, rubbing his hands over his face too hard.

And then there was a pause. He peeked over the tops of his fingers.

No. There was one person, at least, who a vow meant something to. While she herself wasn’t in the city, her people were. And she had said at least once that she trusted the Inuzuka family.

“Why?” Naruto remembered asking. And he was so thankful that she had taught him to ask.

Because he remembered now. Sakura’s hands tightening on her reins. Her neck long, her shoulders pulled back.

“The Inuzuka family has served as the crown’s watchdogs for 13 generations now. They wouldn’t sit by quietly if they didn’t like what they see. I suspect they would be the last to leave my side, but the first to raise a sword against me should I stray from the path,” she had once told him. Smiling in that weird unsmiling way.

Naruto checked the clock in his room. It was in the afternoon. But not too late. Maybe Lieutenant General Inuzuka would still be at the academy. Just outside of his door stood Sir Sai. He knew the knight would sneer and insist that he couldn’t just barge into the military academy again. Remind him of the last humiliation he had suffered when he had blundered his way in.

Naruto sagged in his seat. A headache had settled with seeming permanence in his temples. He slumped to one side, knocking his head against the window.

Down in the courtyard, servants ran around tending to their duties. One of the stableboys walked past, guiding a horse towards a stall. Naruto sighed. He wished he could just grab one of those horses and run off somewhere. But without a plan. Without money or allies of his own, it was a stupid thing to do. He could imagine Sakura saying the exact thing to him. His shoulders drooped even more.

To his surprise, about two weeks later, a letter arrived from Prince Sasuke.

Young Lord Naruto (not Prince, he noticed),

It was a pleasant surprise hearing from you. I hope you are in good health. Things have been busy as Father has announced his intention of naming me his official heir. I feel comfortable divulging this to you, as I am certain that news has traveled over into your country already.

My brother writes often from Plumeria. It seems his health has improved greatly. Perhaps there is something in the sea air that has proved beneficial to him. I imagine that your cousin, The General, has proved an excellent host. My brother goes on and on about the food and all the sights each time. It’s a wonder he hasn’t run out of things to brag about by now.

It’s unfortunate that you did not receive permission to join us once again for the summer festival in Ispolin. I hope that you will be able to honor us again with your presence during next year’s celebrations.

Be in good health.

Prince Uchiha Sasuke

Naruto couldn’t believe his eyes. He read the letter twice before it sunk in.

He had seen the bird carrying this letter shot down. There was no mistaking it. And yet the prince was writing back as if he had received that message.

Naruto leaned back in his seat, tapping the letter against his chin.

“So… they read my letter… and decided that it was safe… and then… sent it?” Naruto mused, trying to unpack this situation with all its twists and turns. He placed the letter on his desk. Staring at it.

“Well… why this one and not the other ones?” he wondered. Staring at the way Sasuke had written his name in perfect loops and swirls.

Naruto closed his eyes to try to focus. He sat that way for such a long time that he almost began to nod off. And then he jerked upright as something occurred to him.

“They want me to write to Prince Sasuke. To promote good relations or whatever. So then they don’t want me to write to Sakura for… the opposite reason.”

And as he said it out loud, it all began to make sense.

He knocked his fists against his forehead once.

How simple.

The reason why she was so cold. Well, there were probably many reasons for that.

But he never wrote on important days like her birthday. Or the anniversary of her parents death. (Or so it seemed). And then whenever they did meet, he would lie about how she had never written back to him, as if he was trying to make her look like the villain.

Naruto gazed out the window, as was his habit now. And he spotted the men working at the stables as usual. But then he spotted one who was much shorter. He was usually the one that was doing all the work as the older ones hid in the hay to nap or snuck off into the city. He must have been around his age. Or maybe even younger.

It occurred to Naruto that the only reason he recognized this servant out of all the others was that he was the only one Sakura trusted with her beloved horse. Whenever she rode into the city on the magnificent white stallion, this boy was the one to run out to her. And he smiled and laughed at whatever she said to him. Naruto remembered feeling a twinge of envy at seeing that warm expression on Sakura’s face. It was an expression she never made around him.

Sai lolled his head to the side to look when Naruto’s door burst open.

“You’re not allowed out,” Sai said in a flat voice.

“I know. I want to go see the horses,” Naruto called over his shoulder, already moving.

Sai yawned. “The horses?”

“Just stay there. I’ll be right back,” Naruto yelled, growing farther and farther away.

Sai yawned louder, blinking the tears out of his eyes. “Suit yourself. Smells like shit out there anyway,” he grumbled.

Naruto dashed out into the courtyard, huffing and puffing. The servants smiled and greeted him as they passed. And the young stableboy started when he saw Naruto heading directly towards him.

“Good afternoon, Your Highness. Is everything alright?” the boy asked.

Naruto threw his arm around the boy’s shoulder, not minding the grime and whatever else was staining his shirt. Not even flinching from the smell of horse manure.

“Your clothes, Your Highness!” the boy exclaimed.

“Don’t worry about that. I have some questions about horses. Could you help me out?” Naruto insisted, leading the boy to a quieter part of a courtyard. One that would probably be harder to see from one of the windows above. Naruto cast a furtive glance around.

“Uh… of course, Your Highness,” the boy stammered.

Naruto dug into his pockets with his free hand. Came up empty. Dug in his other pocket. And then in his jacket until he finally found a loose gold coin. He pushed it into the boy’s hand.

“Can you tell Lieutenant General Inuzuka that I need to see him?” Naruto whispered. And when the stableboy stared at him, Naruto pushed the coin more firmly into his grubby hand. “I could really use your help.”

There was a long pause. The boy’s dark eyes scanned the area too. Slowly, his fingers closed around the coin. He nodded a little before he thrust the coin inside his vest pocket.

Naruto gave a tiny smile. Then his voice was back to booming.

“So, I still don’t get it. Why do you need to nail those big metal things into the hooves? Can’t you just put shoes on them like people?” Naruto wondered. He began leading them back into the bigger area of the courtyard. The stableboy took a second, and then he forced a laugh.

“You can’t just put boots on a horse, Your Highness.”

Some of the other servants smiled as they caught on to the thread of the conversation.

“I mean, it’s got to be more comfortable. I wouldn’t want a big nail in my foot,” Naruto stated.

“Such a curious young man our prince is,” some of them giggled to each other as they passed.

Naruto found himself on the edge of his seat as he waited now.

A full day passed since he had entrusted the stableboy with his mission. And then another.

He scrutinized every napkin, every tray that he could find. Hoping to find one of those slips of paper he sometimes saw Sakura or Sasori pocketing as they passed through a town. The ones that they would skim through before throwing into the nearest fire without another word.

All his vigilance was for naught.

One night, Naruto rolled onto his side when he felt a tap on his foot. He felt the tap again. More insistent this time. He mumbled something. And then a sharp sigh of impatience above him jolted him awake.

“You’re the one who begged for a meeting and now you’re going to sleep through it?”

Naruto rubbed his eyes with his fists.

Standing at the foot of his bed was Lieutenant General Inuzuka. His arms were folded across his chest.

Naruto scrambled to sit up.

“How- how are you in here?” Naruto wondered, looking all around his room.

Kiba sighed again. “You sleep with your door unlocked. How do you think?” And then Kiba fiddled with the edge of his cloak before pulling out his pocket watch.

“We’ve only got about 10 minutes until the next shift of guards gets here. What’s this urgent matter?” he demanded, snapping the watch cover shut.

Naruto blinked, trying to clear his sleep-addled brain.

“Wait. I wrote it down,” Naruto suddenly remembered. He scrambled out of his bed, stumbling over to his desk in the corner. He found the note buried under countless other half-composed letters and crumpled drafts.

“When I write letters, someone shoots down the birds. Every time,” Naruto read. When he peeked up at Kiba, the Lieutenant General was frowning. He met Naruto’s eyes. Nodded for him to continue. Naruto squinted in the darkness.

“I’ve tried writing to Sakura, to Prince Sasuke of the Mountain Kingdom, and also to Pearl Port. The birds were all shot down. But later, Prince Sasuke, and my friend in Pearl Port wrote back to me. I didn’t hear back from Sakura or one of her people,” Naruto continued. And then he added, “And I waited for the time it would take the letters to travel.”

��It… This…” Kiba scowled, fist over his mouth as he thought. He scrutinized Naruto. And then he pointed.

“You’re not making this up. You’re certain,” Kiba demanded.

Naruto nodded. And then his eyes lit up.

“I can send a letter and you can watch if you want to see. Then you can trust me more,” he suggested. Kiba’s eyebrows rose. He tilted his head to one side. Then the other.

“Alright. Tomorrow morning at 9,” Kiba agreed. His mouth set into a tight line. But his eyes were a little less sharp than usual.

“Anything else?” Kiba pressed.

Naruto scanned his scrap of paper again.

“Oh. Um. Not about this but… something I wanted to ask Sakura about… if you can get word to her,” he hesitated.

“Well, your first idea wasn’t bad, so let’s hear it.”

Naruto gripped the paper a little tighter. “Almsgiving is… weird.”

Kiba’s expression contorted. “You think charity is weird?”

Naruto shook his head. “No. No. It’s… the way they do almsgiving is weird. It’s… they do it so often and the same people seem to be coming to each one. So it’s probably not really fixing any problems if the same people keep showing up. I just… it’s…” Naruto huffed. “I just get a weird feeling from it.”

Kiba didn’t seem convinced. But he nodded. “Not quite sure what that means, but I’ll pass it along, I guess.” He shifted his weight to his other foot. He looked around the room, as if expecting to see someone hiding behind the curtains.

“Look, Prince-”

“Don’t call me that,” Naruto muttered.

Kiba’s eyes widened. And then he gave a half-smile.

“Alright. Young Lord. It seems that you’ve learned a thing or two recently. Make sure other people don’t notice that. The stupider you seem, the safer you’ll be,” Kiba warned. And then he lowered his voice. “Especially not-”

“Marquess Shimura.”

“Duke Hyuuga.”

They said the names at the same time. Kiba gave a look of approval. But Naruto was unsmiling.

“Can I do the same thing if I have more to tell you?” Naruto wondered.

Kiba pulled his cowl up to cover the lower half of his face. “Probably not. It’s risky enough for me to sneak in here like this. If it’s urgent, send that stableboy with a message again. You picked a good one. The kid really likes the General.” He took a step toward the door.

“Keep your head down. That goofy smile of yours will keep most people’s guards down around you,” Kiba suggested. And then he slipped out with barely a sound.

Naruto waited a few seconds. When he poked his head out into the corridor, he couldn’t see anyone. Not even the guards who usually stood at his door. Kiba was right. When the guard shifts changed, it seemed like there was some time when his door was left unattended. It embarrassed him that he hadn’t even known about it when it was just a few feet away from him. And then he realized how strange it was someone from outside the castle knew about such a detail. Naruto locked his door as he stepped back inside his room.

Naruto sat on his bed.

It felt like a great weight had been lifted off his chest. After months and months of feeling so trapped, talking to someone who could do something was such a relief. And while it wasn’t as good as reaching out to Sakura himself, it was much better than the alternative: sitting in silence like a fool.

He laid back down, closing his eyes.

In the morning, he would send a letter so that the Lieutenant General could see for himself what happened. And then he would visit the temple to speak with the High Priestess. Spending some time with her always made him feel a little better. His head racing with thoughts of what he could bring for her this time, Naruto took a deep breath for the first time in a while.

++++

Something was wrong.

Sakura felt this acutely as she sat down for supper. She had arrived separately from Shijima, but they had discussed in detail what to say. What to withhold. What to embellish. The consort had yet to arrive, but Prince Baki was already sitting at the head of the table with the demeanor of a mountain lion. Eyes tracking her as soon as she entered the room.

“Good evening, General,” Baki practically purred.

“Good evening,” she answered, keeping her tone curt.

Baki smirked, gaze never leaving her as she crossed the room to take her place at the enormous table. She felt a touch on her elbow. Mangetsu leaned in close to inform her that Suigetsu was keeping an eye on Concubine Deba’s side. Sakura nodded, already knowing that Baki would have fixed Mangetsu with a less-than-friendly look. However, when she looked up, Baki was back to smiling.

They exchanged light pleasantries about the day. Both acting as if neither remembered the events of that afternoon.

When Shijima entered the hall, she bowed deeply to both of them.

“How are you feeling, cousin?” Sakura greeted Shijima, holding out a hand to her. There was a bandage on her cheek from where Deba’s nails had gouged into her. There was another one on the left side of her forehead. Shijima had made sure to wear big sleeves that drooped down to her elbows when she lifted her arm, revealing the bruises there too.

“I’m fine thanks to you, General. How are you feeling?” Shijima replied, hurrying to Sakura. She knelt at Sakura’s side, fretting over the uncovered scratches on Sakura’s hands.

“This is nothing. I barely feel anything,” Sakura assured her.

“Ah yes. I’d heard that there was some excitement in the harem today,” Baki interrupted them.

“Really? And your thoughts?” Sakura replied without looking at him. She fussed with Shijima’s hair and fixing the collar of her gown.

“You seem a reasonable woman, General. I doubt you clashed with Concubine Deba for no reason.”

Only then did Sakura finally look him in the face, rewarding him with a smile. “You truly are a wise man, Prince Baki. I’m so glad that you can see things with such clarity,” she complimented him. And then she released Shijima, urging her to go take her place next to Baki. Shijima nodded.

The meal was served not too long after. They laughed and shared conversation over the food and drink.

As Sakura had hoped, Shijima’s injuries hadn’t gone unnoticed by Baki. And even if it was just pity that moved him, Baki did comment on her condition. He even asked how she felt, which was quite a change from how he normally treated her as part of the palace’s decoration.

But at the same time, Baki’s gaze fell hot on her all too often.

Sakura had a good idea of what this was.

A man like Baki, who prided himself on his fighting prowess, had probably not encountered too many women like her. When women in the Viper’s Fang fought, it was with slaps and hair-pulling. But for Sakura, who had severed a man’s head from his body on more than one occasion, all that was child’s play.

Aunt Kurenai had warned her of this on more than one occasion. That there existed some men in the world who not only enjoyed violence. But were aroused by it. And judging from Baki’s expression, he seemed to fall in that category quite splendidly.

This complicated things. Her goal had been for Baki to see Shijima’s struggles to gain control over the harem and to admire that tenacity. After all, Shijima was a beautiful young woman. But there were many beautiful women all around her. It would take more than that to hold Baki’s attention. None of this would work if Baki was too busy watching Sakura to notice Shijima’s efforts.

Sakura felt a headache begin to pound its way to life somewhere at the back of her skull. She wished Shikamaru were here. He would have formed a plan within a day.

As they finished the meal and signaled for more wine, Sakura held Shijima’s gaze. She stared hard until Shijima gave a tiny nod.

“Well, it’s been an eventful day. I haven’t even had a chance to ask you, my dear. Have you had a chance to try on that shawl I showed you?” asked Sakura.

Though they had rehearsed together, Sakura couldn’t help but marvel at the way Shijima’s face turned white. Her hand was trembling as it came up to cover her mouth.

“Oh… I was… I was on my way to show it to you when Concubine Deba…” Shijima trailed off, tears welling up in her eyes.

Baki swirled his wine around, looking between both women.

“Calm yourself in front of our guest, Consort Hoki. It’s probably just lost. There’s no reason to cry,” he scoffed. But when neither of his companions spoke, he scrutinized Sakura’s face.

Sakura puckered her mouth, as if she were trying to think of what to say. She exhaled heavily through her nose. Shijima jumped a little at the sound.

“So you don’t know where it is? Am I understanding correctly?” questioned Sakura.

Shijima nodded.

As Sakura pushed her wine to the side, Shijima burst into tears.

“Please forgive me, General. I’ll send servants to go find it right away. I may have left it in my room,” Shijima blurted out.

“Do so. I’m quite upset and I don’t wish to spoil the mood any more than I already have. Please excuse me,” Sakura replied, her face stiff as she got to her feet. She reached her arm back. Mangetsu stepped toward her. Sakura grabbed him by the collar of his shirt to hiss into his ear. Mangetsu nodded a few times. And then he hurried out of the room, breaking into a run as soon as he was past the doors.

Sakura followed in measured steps, her shoulders tight and her fists at her sides.

She heard Baki ask, “What’s really going on here, Consort Hoki?”

Sakura knew when Shijima explained what the shawl was. She heard Baki’s, “What?” explode from the hall even after she had stepped into the corridor outside.

Sakura headed straight for her room. She ran into Suigetsu in the hall. Suigetsu cackled until Sakura grabbed his arm, pressing her pointer finger to her lips. He clamped his mouth shut. Snickers still escaped through his sharp teeth.

“I’ve never had this much fun on a job before. You’re really something, M’Lady,” he whispered.

And only because she was confident that no one else would see, Sakura cracked a smile too. But then Suigetsu’s expression sobered.

“A maid. Behind you,” he murmured.

“Sorry about this,” Sakura warned him. And Suigetsu just gave her a cocky smile before he nodded.

Sakura struck him hard. The slapping sound rang up and down the corridor.

“Find it. I won’t tolerate incompetence,” she snapped. Suigetsu stood there, looking down at the floor.

“Get out of my sight,” Sakura then snarled. Suigetsu bowed. And he flashed her a quick wink before he rushed down the hall. When Sakura turned to glare at his back, she spotted the maid peeking at her from behind a pillar. The girl ducked out of sight with a look of terror, as if she had seen a demon.

When Sakura walked into her apartment, she slammed the doors. But when she leaned against the doors, she offered her cousins a smile.

“Did I sound angry?” she asked.

“Terrifying,” Kankuro assured her.

“It was quite strong, Lady Sakura. I’m sure everyone is convinced,” added Gaara. And then he motioned for her to sit. “Try these grapes. I can’t stop eating them.”

“You’ll upset your stomach,” Sakura warned him as she pushed off the door to join them.

The minute Mangetsu had burst into the northern wing of the palace, Azra and Esma had dropped their things and hurried out with their skirts in their hands. Meno, who had gone to the kitchen to fetch dinner for Kankuro, Temari, and Gaara, would likely hear the news soon. She had left them with plenty of fruits and pastries in the meantime.

“In case supper is delayed. I deeply apologize,” Meno had said earlier in the day. And Kankuro chuckled at her sincerity.

“Such a sweet child,” he commented.

“I hit Suigetsu outside. I feel a little guilty,” Sakura confessed as she put her arm around Gaara. She opened her mouth and let Gaara feed her a grape. Sweetness washed over her tongue when she bit into the skin. When her eyes widened, Gaara beamed at her.

“I think we’ve all wanted to hit him at one point or another. It’s fine, My Lady,” Temari retorted. Kankuro snorted into his wine.

“Buy him a good bottle of wine later, Lady Sakura. I’m sure all will be forgiven if you do,” Gaara suggested.

Sakura shook her head a little. “What a clever child the goddess has blessed me with for a cousin,” she praised him. She pressed a kiss to his temple. The way she always had. And he smiled at her as he always had.

As they waited, the servants began scouring the kitchens and the laundry rooms. Shijima’s personal attendants barged into the harem escorted by Prince Baki’s guards. They overturned wardrobes and dug through the concubines’ jewels. Hunting desperately for the emerald green fabric stitched with the desert rose design on the hem. Also completely ignoring the concubines’ shrill protest.

Of course, Suigetsu already knew where to look. But he bumbled around looking irate and terrifying a few of the concubines to the point of tears before he finally pretended to stumble upon the scraps hidden at the bottom of a basket of laundry. He grabbed the torn pieces of fabric and held it up to the light, as if scrutinizing the pattern.

The servants, who had all been shuffling through the piles of fabric in opposite corners of the room, eyed Suigetsu when he grabbed the whole basket. He hefted it onto his shoulder and ran into the hallway.

Sakura was unsurprised when Suigetsu overturned the laundry basket onto the floor in front of her. The green shawl sat in several pieces, mixed in with dirty sheets. She supposed that if this sort of tradition mattered to her, she would be livid right now.

But the fact was that her grandmother was dead. And she had left behind many other treasures and trinkets for her descendants to remember her by. If the stories Aunt Kurenai had told her were to be believe, Queen Chiyo would have wholeheartedly endorsed sacrificing one of her possessions for a plan such as this.

“Oh no. How can this be?” she said in a flat voice.

“That’s terribly cruel. She didn’t have to rip it up so many times,” Temari commented. She pointed to each scrap as she counted all the pieces.

“Gaara,” Sakura said.

“Yes?”

Sakura unwound her arms from around him. “Go be a dear and bring Consort Hoki here. Let’s act out the next scene of this fun little show.”

Gaara ate one last grape before he got to his feet. Temari reached over to brush off any dirt that had stuck to the back of his pants.

When Shijima arrived several minutes later, her face was swollen from crying. She stood in the entrance, staring at Kankuro lying on his back while Temari and Sakura tried to throw grapes into his mouth.

“Oh goodness. You’re a mess,” Sakura remarked. She motioned for Shijima to join her, already pouring her a glass of water. Shijima gulped it down as Sakura tried to smooth back her hair. Shijima let out a sigh of relief. As she set the glass down, she noticed the green scraps scattered on the ground. Her face fell.

“General, I really am so-”

Sakura interrupted Shijima by pinching her nose. “It’s quite alright. Things could not have gone more perfectly.” And then she grabbed Shijima by the cheeks.

“Were you forcing yourself to cry or actually crying?” Sakura wondered.

“I just thought about what I’ve had to go through the last several years. It’s not difficult to make myself cry that way,” Shijima confessed. Sakura smiled.

“So clever too, this one. I’m surrounded by such clever cousins,” Sakura praised her. Shijima blushed.

“Now,” Sakura moved on, releasing Shijima’s face. “I’d like you all to react naturally to what’s about to occur.” She looked all around the room. Including Mangetsu, who had just slipped back inside and was speaking quietly with Suigetsu in the corner. The brothers met her gaze. They both smiled at her.

When the doors to the northern wing of the Viper’s Fang burst open, Sakura emerged, pulling her falchion from its sheath.

“General, please!” Shijima pleaded, grabbing at Sakura’s skirts. “Please! I’ll take responsibility! Don’t do this!”

Sakura ignored her, storming ahead, swinging her blade around.

“Out of my way!” she barked at the servants, who fled in terror. Her cousins trailed behind her, shouting her name as they struggled to catch up with her strides.

“This was my fault, General. Please calm your anger! Take it out on me!” Shijima sobbed.

Despite even Meno and the twins trying to divert Sakura’s attention, she made it all the way to the harem.

“Bring Concubine Deba before me!” Sakura demanded to the guards on duty at the double doors. They stared straight ahead. Although Sakura could see their eyes darting around nervously.

“Bring her before me so I can repay the dishonor she has done me.”

“General, please don’t be like this,” Shijima begged, wailing even harder now, her face pressed into Sakura’s skirts. And Sakura couldn’t help but inwardly commend the girl for her performance. She truly was a skilled liar.

It didn’t take long for Baki and his guards to arrive on the scene. Of course the servants had run to get him as soon as they saw Sakura running through the palace swinging her sword around.

Baki looked from Sakura still clenching her sword in her hand. To Shijima clinging to Sakura’s dress and begging for something in incoherent words.

“What is all of this, General?” Baki asked.

Sakura whirled around, pointing at Baki with her falchion. His guards took a step forward. But Baki held his hand up, sending them backwards.

“Your precious Concubine Deba has defiled the memory of my family. She has torn my grandmother’s memento into pieces. And so I will do the same to her,” Sakura answered, smiling with too many teeth.

Baki stared at her. As if trying to determine how serious she was. And then he gestured toward the harem.

“Go. Bring Concubine Deba. Let’s resolve this matter quickly,” he barked. One of his guards took off to follow those orders.

It took several minutes for Deba to appear. She was disheveled, her hair in disarray and her eyes red. She seemed to be determined to appear the victim in this situation. She fell to her knees, already crying before she heard the charges. Sakura struggled to control her expression. If not, she would have rolled her eyes.

“Please, My Lord husband, what is this terror all about? This poisonous woman has ransacked our home and made a mockery of me! How much more suffering does she plan to heap upon this concubine’s head?” wailed Deba.

Sakura laughed at that. She reached into her pockets to pull out the scraps of green fabric they had recovered from the laundry. Deba was a seasoned liar herself. Her expression did not change.

“I heap suffering upon your head? It seems you’ve poured hot coals over yourself and then turned to blame me,” Sakura retorted.

“I loaned Consort Hoki this shawl because she admired it so. On her way to show her outfit to me, she was accosted by Concubine Deba this afternoon,” she then reported, looking at Baki now. Baki nodded.

“Yes. This I’ve heard,” he replied.

“Yes, My Lord. I told you of how this cruel woman beat me and beat one of your loyal guards,” whimpered Deba.

Sakura sneered. “Yes, yes, I’m a monster. It’s not as if I caught you also beating and kicking Consort Hoki.”

Deba stopped her fake whimpering to shoot a glare at her. Sakura only smirked in return.

“My retainer found this buried at the bottom of one of the baskets in the laundry room. The servants claim that it was mixed with laundry that belongs to Consort Hoki,” Sakura went on.

Deba pointed at Shijima. “There! It’s clear who the perpetrator is. Then why am I the one being accused?”

“You stupid woman,” Sakura rebuked. Deba’s eyes widened. “Since you and your followers have taken to terrorizing Consort Hoki by filling her bedding and clothes with pests, I’ve had her servants wash her laundry with mine. It’s been weeks since any of Consort Hoki’s possession have come anywhere close to your laundry room.”

“You still have no proof that it was me! Who here witnessed this supposed deed?” Deba insisted, pointing all around the room at the guards and the servants. Some of the concubines had also left the harem to witness the ruckus. They all turned their gaze or flinched when Deba’s stare fell on them.

But then, a guard with his arm in a sling stepped forward.

“I witnessed it,” he declared.

He knelt in front of Baki, lowering his head.

“You…” Deba breathed.

“And you are?” Baki queried.

“I am one of the guards who witnessed this afternoon’s events, Your Highness. I am also the guard who attempted to subdue the General,” the guard confessed.

Baki, as well as many others, looked confused.

“Very well. Speak your part.”

The guard bowed again.

“Thank you, Your Highness. When the General and Consort Hoki departed from the scene, I witnessed Concubine Deba as well as several other concubines retrieve the garment that Consort Hoki left behind. They spoke insults of the General and the Consort as they ripped it apart with their hands and stepped on it with their shoes,” the guard explained.

“You liar!” Deba sputtered, turning bright red. She lunged for the guard, but Sakura lowered her falchion, blocking Deba’s path.

“Why don’t we let him finish?” Sakura suggested in a soft voice. Deba froze at the sight of the sharp blade just in front of her face.

The guard then bowed in Sakura’s direction. “I realized how shameful my actions towards the General were afterwards. I went to the General to kneel and to beg forgiveness. I had no idea that shawl belonged to the General. Otherwise, I would have reported it immediately.”

That was half-truthful.

When Sakura had summoned the guard before her, she had laid out the facts for him. How kindly would Prince Baki look upon a nameless, faceless guard who had insulted a noble guest? And when she had hinted that he wouldn’t be able to rely on Concubine Deba’s protection for much longer, he had folded. A testimony in exchange for enough gold to support him for the rest of his life. After all, with an injury like his, he wouldn’t be able to serve as a guard from now on.

With the guard’s single testimony, Deba’s already flimsy alibi crumbled. As did what remained of her composure.

“Fine! Maybe I did! But am I not justified after how she insulted and humiliated me in front of my own court! How am I the villain in this situation!” Deba raged, glaring at Sakura so hard that it looked like her eyes would fill with blood.

And when Sakura simply regarded her with disgust, Deba let out a scream of frustration.

“Concubine Deba, do you even know what you’ve destroyed?” Sakura inquired.

She nudged her falchion closer to Deba, who leaned away from the sharpened edge, still glowering up at Sakura. Sakura opened her hand and let the green scraps of fabric rain down on Deba.

“The color for a bride, so that her marriage will be filled with many years of pride. Sew it emerald green to set the most joyous scene,” Sakura recited. It was an old song that she had heard so many times as a child.

Deba stared down at the jagged edges of the fabric, suddenly chilled to the bone.

“It was the veil my grandmother wore when she wed my grandfather. A precious heirloom of the Haruno family that you destroyed with those pretty little claws,” Sakura uttered.

A shriek of terror ripped from Deba’s throat. She gathered the little bits of fabric in her hands, trying to remember the shape of the original garment. And when she looked up at Prince Baki, his expression was stony.

“My Lord! I didn’t know!”

“Consort Hoki begged me to calm my rage. That she would compensate me in full for my losses. But…” Sakura turned on her heel to face Baki now. “How does one compensate for an insult against someone’s very legacy? I’m not quite certain, Prince. Do you have any suggestions?”

Kurenai had always taught Sakura to wield her words as weapons. And the military had taught her to wield her weapons as words. But it was ever so refreshing when both things could be done at the same time.

Sakura sheathed her sword.

“And Consort Hoki is correct. Taking Concubine’s head would not even begin to quench my anger.”

Sakura looked down at Shijima still hanging on to her skirts. Shijima sniffled as she stared right back up at her.

“I am quite certain that even if the Deba family were to empty their coffers and to drive themselves into crushing debt, it would not be enough. And after all, Prince Baki, haven’t you said that we are cousins? How will you handle this transgression against our family?” Sakura then challenged, staring directly into Baki’s eyes.

Baki was left speechless.

Sakura returned her attention to Deba, who was curled up in a ball, silently weeping. The wrinkled scraps of green fabric clenched in both her hands.

“No ideas, Prince Baki? I’m disappointed,” she remarked.

“I- General.”

Baki bowed to Sakura. A gasp rippled through those gathered. That the fierce, prideful Prince Baki would ever lower his head to another.

“I offer my most sincere apologies at the dishonor that has occurred under my roof. I will discipline Consort Deba and do whatever it takes to appease you.”

Sakura ran her hand along the edge of her sheathed sword, thinking. Her eyes fell on Deba again. Cold.

“Perhaps it won’t be enough to cover everything. But why don’t we start with the head of your dear Concubine Deba?”

“No!” Deba screeched. She lifted her tear-streaked face. “Please, My Lord, have mercy! I have given you a son! I have spent so many years at your side!”

Baki turned away from Deba.

“Please give me time to deliberate, General. I assure you that I will come up with a solution that will please us all,” he said.

And Sakura thought back to all the instances that she had demanded justice and received none. When her throne had been stolen from her. When the nobles had mocked her and sent her to her death. When her parents’ usurpers had adorned themselves with her parents jeweled and laughed as they stuffed themselves with the richest foods while she slogged through the mud bleeding from the gut.

She wore that anger on her face as she looked upon Baki.

“I am unsatisfied with this answer.”

Sakura motioned for her cousins. When they stepped forward, Sakura took Gaara’s hand.

“Kankuro, prepare arrangements for our departure. This place has left a sour taste in my mouth,” she ordered.

“Yes, My Lady,” Kankuro responded.

“Temari, write to Princess Mei for me,” Sakura then said, already walking away from the gathered crowd.

“What should it say, My Lady?” Temari asked, falling into step beside her.

“In light of today’s events, I will ask her to choose a side. She can no longer maintain friendly relations with the Viper’s Fang as well as with Karo. Also inform Great-Uncle,” she instructed.

“Yes, My Lady.”

“General!” Shijima called after her. But her call fell on deaf ears as Sakura turned her back on her as well.

That night, as Gaara began gathering and folding their clothes, a messenger arrived, wind-battered and parched. He stood drinking the water Gaara offered him as Sakura opened the envelope.

Dear Sakura,

I saw a flower today that made me think of you. I know that my memory has done you a great disservice. After all, how could you ever compare to a little thing such as a flower?

Earlier this week, went into the city to visit the silk dyers. I am still amazed by the skill with which they work. I saw a color that I thought would suit you. I asked them to send a bolt to your tailor. It is my hope that he will make something that will be to your liking.

Today, as well, I will rebuke the ocean that keeps you from me. Day by day, I am learning new things in the hopes that I will be a better man by the time you return to me.

Itachi

Sakura tucked the letter into her robes, right against her heart.

“Are we really going home, Lady Sakura?” Gaara asked from somewhere behind her.

“Not now. But soon,” she promised him.

++++

< Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24>

#itasaku #fanfiction #writing #courtly intrigue! au #a lot of trashy intrigue here #but be honest you love it

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poorlytunedukulele · 3 years

Text

Day 13 - Night of the Hunter

September 13, 2872

It had all started with a cryptic message.

Andal Brask: Party. Tuesday. 29°30'57.2"N 147°42'28.2"W. ;)

Azra didn’t have much going on that day, so she figured why not? If it didn’t end up being her scene she could always just leave.

Still, some paranoia (it wasn’t not paranoia if it was useful, she had to remind herself) made her want to check out the place beforehand. Or maybe she was just bored. In any case, she found herself staring at an empty patch of Pacific Ocean at around 1pm local time. Andal’s coordinates had her smack dab in the middle of nowhere. There weren’t even any islands nearby. She flew her jumpship in lazy circles, wondering exactly what kind of prank he was playing.

It took her a good fifteen minutes to realize that Andal had never specified the coordinates were on Earth. A quick check with her maps revealed that 29°30'57.2"N 147°42'28.2"W was at the peak of a very prominent mountain on Venus.

But there wasn’t a party site at the mountain, either. There was a cache. A cache with a cheeky note (written in unfamiliar hand) and another set of coordinates. Those lead her to a cave on Mars, then an archive in Freehold, then a weird spire on Venus.

Azra was having so much fun she almost forgot about the party. There was a clue in a dead zone so full of interference even the GPS failed and she had to navigate by her map alone. She had to go diving in a cenote for another.

Then one clue dropped her off in the middle of nowhere. While she’d been galivanting about the system, night had fallen on the Appalachian Dead Zone. She was in some unremarkable stretch of forest in the mountainscape. There was nothing. No tracks, no trail signs, no notes with hints, just the cooling night air.

Azra closed her eyes and listened. And though there wasn’t any sounds to be heard over the wind, she did smell something. Just the barest hint of smoke. It grew stronger as the breeze picked up, so she followed her nose upwind. She paused to listen frequently. After a few minutes, she heard… something. Were those voices in the distance?

Azra had finally found the party. She hadn’t seen the fire because it was in a deep gully, hidden by foliage. She crested the ridge and watched for a few minutes below as figures talked, danced, gestured, lit by the roaring flames. It was hard to recognize anyone from the distance, but this had to be the right place.

Azra picked her way down the slope, social anxieties forgotten. Why she’d needed to go through a scavenger hunt to get here she had no idea, but she wasn’t about to complain. It had been fun.

The ground was slippery at the bottom of the valley (there was mud beneath the dead leaf cover). Azra would have normally paused to gather herself before approaching, but she was robbed of the opportunity when she tripped and slid the last few meters.

She stumbled into the light of the fire. A ragged cheer went up from those gathered- all Hunters, she noted. Azra was mortified for a second, all eyes on her-

Then everyone went back to their conversations.

Almost everyone. There were a few familiar faces in the crowd. Andal ambled over, drink in hand, hood thrown back. “Hey, you made it! Wasn’t sure you would.”

“Liar,” Cayde called from across the clearing. “You bet she’d get here before the night was up.”

“Didn’t mean I knew,” Andal countered, then turned his attention back to the young Hunter. “How long ago did you start looking?”

“Uh… four hours ago?”

Andal raised an eyebrow. “Scoping out the site early, I see. It’s not even dark in the Pacific yet.”

“I was bored.”

“You bored now?” Cayde asked as he also came over. He slung an arm over her shoulders and gestured. “Welcome to the cool kid’s club.”

“Is that what it’s called?” Azra asked. “With capital letters and everything? The Cool Kids Club?”

“No,” Andal sighed, “but it should be.”

“Only the cool kids get invites,” Cayde explained. “Only the good kids actually find the place in time. So here we’ve got ourselves a bunch of good, cool kids. That includes you, now.”

“Who arranged all of this?” Azra asked.

Andal shrugged. “Someone from Dead End Cure, this time. Sometime tonight there’ll be a contest to see who has the honor next year. Speaking of honor, did you remember your party etiquette?”

Spark answered by transmatting two bottles of rum into his Guardian’s hands. She waggled them in a proud boast.

“Brought the good stuff, I see!” an unfamiliar voice said. “Though I don’t recognize you.”

Azra turned as a stranger approached. They were half a head shorter than she was, leanly muscled, with dark skin and a camouflage-patterned cape. Azra glanced for half a second at Andal, who shook his head.

“You’re going to have to do a lot of introducing tonight,” the Gunslinger said. He clapped her on her shoulder and wandered off to talk with Shiro and another unfamiliar Exo.

Message received: you stand for yourself here, no help from me.

“I’m Azra Jax,” she said, transferring the bottles to her left arm so she could stick out her right hand. “My Ghost is Spark.”

“Name’s Puck,” the Hunter said, taking her hand and shaking it firmly.

“It suits you,” Azra said without thinking. They had a certain mischievous air about them. That didn’t stop Azra from immediately regretting opening her mouth. These were new people, she couldn’t go around saying whatever asinine thing came into her head first.

But instead of taking offense, the other Hunter just smiled. “Thanks! I picked it myself. I think I have heard of you before, but I can’t recall when. You frequent the ADZ?”

“No more than anywhere else,” Azra replied. “Um. I did some stuff at Twilight Gap.” She really hoped it was that and not the other thing people always recognized, but the other Hunter’s face remained contemplative.

Puck shook their head. “Fun story, actually. I was stuck on Venus that whole time. My ship got shot down and nobody could come pick me up. I don’t think that’s it.”

Azra realized she’d be having this conversation a lot tonight. She considered just leaving. Booze and a bonfire didn’t really outweigh hours of curiosity she’d have to entertain. “I’m the Arcstrider,” she said, aware of the weariness in her voice.

“Oh, yeah!” Puck’s eyes lit with recognition. “Say no more.” A pause. “Damn, aren’t you like, four?”

“Yeeeessss?” Azra said.

“Andal!” Puck barked. The Gunslinger ambled back over with Cayde and Shiro in tow. He was trying to suppress a grin and failing.

“You didn’t break the rules, did you?” Puck demanded. “No hints.”

Andal bowed. “No, ma’amsiree. Just the starting coordinates. And a winky face.”

“I told you ‘sir’ is fine,” Puck sighed.

“I think mine is the more elegant solution,” Andal said with an air of superiority. “Rolls off the tongue. ‘Sir’ sounds like ‘zir’ and then we all get confused about how formal we’re being.”

Azra had already lost where the conversation was going. “I ended up staring at the Pacific Ocean for a while before I realized what was up,” she offered. “Also I have no idea what you’re arguing about.”

“Listen,” Puck said. “Zavala uses ‘sir’. Sloane uses ‘sir’. Nobody is going around saying ‘him yes him’! It’s never going to get confused. Yours just sounds dumb.”

Azra turned to her Ghost for help, but he just did a shrug-twirl and floated closer to her shoulder. “I didn’t spend a lot of time with people before meeting you,” he whispered. “I have no idea either.” Puck and Andal continued their debate, to Azra's befuddlement.

“Somebody please explain it to the newbie before she gets an aneurysm?” Shiro interrupted. "She's turning red."

Puck turned to face her, dark eyes flashing in the firelight. “Okay, fine.” Azra knew that tone of voice. It was identical to the one she’d used earlier, a weary ‘let’s get this over with’. Puck spoke slowly. “So I’m not a ‘ma’am’.”

“You’ve made that very clear, sir,” Azra said.

“I’m not technically much of a ‘sir’ either,” Puck explained.

Azra’s brain plugged the new information into her equation and threw up an error message in response.

Andal cackled. “I’m not sure we’re out of aneurysm territory, my fey friend.”

Azra held up her hands. “You just spent like two minutes arguing-“

“I’m sure we could drag this on for another few,” Shiro said, “but let’s not. Puck uses ‘ze’ and ‘zir’. Andal always complains about honorifics because he likes smashing words together in terrifying new ways.”

“That’s it?” Azra said.

“There is no widely accepted gender-neutral honorific,” Andal said. “But one day…”

“Really trying to change the world, this one,” Puck muttered. Ze looked at Azra with a question in zir eyes. Does this have to be a conversation?

“Uh.. it suits you?” was all Azra could think of.

Andal grinned and nudged Puck with an elbow. Puck rolled zir eyes.

Azra turned on her Gunslinger friend. “Your solution to the ma’am/sir issue was ma’amsiree?”

“It’s in beta,” Andal said. “Still working out the kinks.”

“It’s a wonder you haven’t come across this problem before if you’ve been running with him,” Puck said. “Referring to people in… interesting ways is kind of his thing.”

Azra shrugged. “That’s the trick. I just don’t refer to people in general.”

“If it really bothers you, Puck, I’ll stop,” Andal offered. “I was getting the vibe that you liked that bit, but I’m always willing to be proven wrong.”

Puck just laughed. “As long as you don’t teach the newbies any bad habits.”

“I am sorry to inform you it is far too late for that,” Shiro intoned. “The puns, Puck. They get so much worse when she’s around.”

“Well see if I share my liquor with you,” Azra groused. “I had to go into the City proper to get this stuff.”

Puck eyed the bottles she still cradled in her arms. “Well, since you brought two, you deserve a present. Come on.” Ze swatted her shoulder until she moved to stand by a mostly-empty folding table. Puck vaulted easily on to the table and stood.

“Hey!” ze shouted, clapping zir hands once. All conversation died immediately. “Public service announcement! This,” ze gestured down to where Azra stood, frozen in shock, “Is Azra Jax. She’s an Arcstrider. Oooooo. Big mystery.” The Hunter waved zir hands in a spooky gesture, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Here’s the deal: if any of you bug her about it, she gets permission to stab you.”

“She won’t stab anyone even if they bug her,” Cayde called. “She’s shy.”

“Then I give Cayde permission to stab you,” Puck said blithely. Cayde made a silent gesture of celebration, which Puck ignored. “I just eliminated a lot of boring conversation. You’re welcome.”

“Is giving Cayde permission to stab people a good idea?” someone asked.

“Better not toe the line then, shouldya?” Puck waggled a finger, then jumped nimbly down from zir table. The hum of conversation resumed after a few seconds.

“Thanks,” Azra said.

Puck waved her off. “I’m the host, it’s my job. Drinks go over there. Ashton left to get pizza like two godsdamned hours ago, you’re welcome to some whenever that gets here. No explosions or ordinance unless some Fallen show up. Be nice. No bothering Azra about being an Arcstider. That’s all the party rules as of now.” Ze fixed her with a stern glare. “Don’t make me add any more.”

There was a loud crack- a branch snapping under someone’s foot. A cheer went up as an unfamiliar Hunter walked into the clearing.

“That’s my cue,” Puck said, giving a sly wink. “Have fun.” The Hunter strode off to welcome the next person to the party.

"Come on," Cayde urged. "I don't think you've been introduced to Mot Balek. I have to be there to see that."

AO3 Linky

#destcember #destcember2020 #destiny #destiny the game #shhhh #it's still the thirteenth somewhere #andal brask #cayde-6 #shiro-4 #and self-indulgent nb characters #oh my

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teufortyaoi · 7 years

Photo

azra khalil moodboard

#wolfy barks #oc: azra #aesthedit

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askbalfour · 5 years

Text

suvaris

Though it felt nice to have someone aside from Eve or Daniel take her seriously for once, thinking too hard about the monster in the garden and Feiyan’s unsettling, brief visit left her too shaken to close her eyes for more than five minutes at a time. This meant, obviously, it was time to walk around the house a little more, this time with a blanket over her arm and a glass of water in her hand. She happened upon Balfour not long after she left her room, and after hesitating for a moment, she sat on the floor next to him and crushed the urge to scratch behind his ears. Everyone kind of hated him, but Azra couldn’t help but be a little smitten. “What did you mean by it’s not her?” she asked as she placed the glass of water on the floor at her hip and folded her hands in her lap. “Was she a projection like… like Daniel when he’s in the astral plane? Or it’s not her like… like the thing in the garden wasn’t me?”

“I meant it was not her.” If a cat could Bark, Balfour just did. His tail thumped erratically against her leg. Ever since he’d seen that wraith dressed up to look like Feiyan, it hadn’t stopped sweeping back and forth. The fur on his spine was still itchy, the way it got when it was supposed to be standing straight up, protecting against a threat. It was one of the stupider things about being a cat, in his opinion.

Azra had asked him genuine questions, though. He could at least try to be helpful instead of a rude puffball. “I don’t know what that was. It looked like a projection. That’s a reasonable conclusion.” The compliment, paltry as it was, struggled off his barbed tongue. “But it had a smell. It smelled like her. Projections don’t do that.” Which didn’t help his argument in the slightest, but he just knew.

He looked to Azra, his pupils narrowed to slits. “Do you think Feiyan would ever tell any of you that you were failing? Even if you were. Even if you were fucking up worse than any of your past selves ever had. Would she say that?”

#the lovers #event .004 #;)#submission

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spootiliousrps · 5 years

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Suspicious Nature P4

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Dean stepped out a few minutes later, his sword seethed at his side and his breast armour over his formalwear. “Cas,” he smiled. “How did Zerachiel and Azra take the news?” He asked, as he stood beside the Omega, letting him lead the way.

Cas tried not to stare. It was the first time he has ever seen the King in his military formal and he was... well... the Knight Commander was certainly feeling every inch of the Omega he was. He didn't allow himself to be too distracted, however, as they made their way down the corridors of the palace. "As well as could be expected, Your Grace. They had some concerns and I was not very forthcoming with many detail but they are good soldiers and accepted my orders as best they could." He replied.

Dean nodded and smiled. “That’s good. I’m glad they didn’t push too hard. I’ll be staying back and letting you have the room, I know I might not be the best person to be there but it might negate some of the anger. Just think of as another guard, rather than King.” Dean explained softly.

"I am not sure I can think of you quite like that, but I will certainly do my best. I have also committed a few more men to your own guards just in case anything does happen." He paused a moment just as they reached the courtyard and turned to the man, expression softening a bit. "I know you want to protect me, Dean... but you are King now. You are the most important person within these walls. While I appreciate your concern I ask you to keep that in mind as well."

Dean nodded. “I know I am, and thank you for the extra guards. But I’m wanting to use that status to provide you safety.” He explained. “You’re important to me. As my Aide. Do you want to go in first, and I’ll follow you in?” He offered.

Cas shook his head “It is probably best if you go first, to allow time for the men to adjust to your presence. Though… If it isn’t too much to ask… perhaps you could say something to them after the address. Your rise to power, has caused some tension among the ranks. The men aren’t entirely sure what kind of leader you are. I think it could help with moral; especially after the shock of the news.” He offered adjusting the helmet in his arms a bit nervously.

“Of course, Commander.” Dean nodded. He squeezed his shoulder gently. “Everything will be alright. I’ll do everything in my power to ensure it.” He explained. He stepped forward into the courtyard and to the front of the troops. He raised his hands to the sides, showing his sword clearly, and waiting for silence.

The men were formed in neat lines, hands behind their backs as they chatted lazily among themselves. However, when the King stepped into the yard one of the higher ranking officers gave a bark of orders and silence fell as they were brought to attention and went down to one knee. The guards that Cas promised, however, rushed to the Alpha’s side, bowing low mumbling their usual respects and falling in next to the man. Cas watched on in silence, pride filling him. He had not warned the soldiers of the Monarchs presence but it was obvious they were trained well enough to manage on their own. Pride filled him, moving him almost to tears… Without the suppressants his emotions were everywhere lately. Pride filled him. These men… his brothers… his family… Would they hate him? Maybe but… He wouldn’t dwell on it. He loved each of them… And this was the last they would see him as Commander… It hit him strongly at that moment and he was forced to take a moment to steady himself before approaching.

“Rise, Soliders. This is not my address, but your Commander’s. He wishes to speak to you all, and I am merely here to... support his address.” Dean explained, before stepping back to one corner, allowing Castiel room on the make-shift podium.

The soldiers stood as directed, though their fists still remained over their hearts as Cas strode onto the field, cloak billowing a bit in the wind. He paused in front of the King bowing low, obviously for show before he took his time, allowing his gaze to drift over each soldier in the front, inspecting them as he made his way over the full length of the court yard and returned to the center, facing his men. “Be at ease.” He called loudly, allowing the men’s hands to drop back behind their waist. He gave them a moment, gaze still wandering before speaking once more. “Sir Zerachiel… Sir Azra’il… Front and Center.” He commanded. There was almost no hesitation as the two men in question broke off from the ranks. Typically they would stand before their Commander but as they approached Cas took a step to the side and motioned for them to join him on the small platform that had been set up for the Addressing parties. Cas waited for them to take their spots before addressing the ranks once more.

“Gentlemen… I am sure you are all wondering Why I have called for this address and before I get to that there are a few things I would like to say… There are few of you among these ranks that have not seen battle, bloodshed, and war. There are many who have taken that experience and used it to climb into a seat of honor while others look forward to the day, they may earn their chance at glory.” Cas paused a moment to allow the soldiers a loud cheer in response to his words. In that moment, pride was obvious on his stern features despite the way the light of the dimming sun seemed to shine in his eyes. It was obvious he was emotional. His life’s work was coming to an end. Who would he be after this? The Royal Aide yes… but what else? He had defined himself as the Knight Commander for so long. “You are all honorable and brave men; each of you hand picked to serve this Kingdom well.” He added when they had quieted. “I have come to know you each as brother and hope that I have earned the title in turn.” He moved his hand from where they remained clasped behind his back to rest on the helmet tucked under his arm. “You have each earned my loyalty and respect. You are some of the greatest men I have had the privilege to command but there comes a time in each man’s life that it is wisest to take a step back and allow another who is more suited for duty take his place, improve on what he has built.” The mood of the crowd shifted instantly from that of eager suspense to melancholy curiosity as murmurs and whispers began to spread. “Some of you have speculated that I would be stepping down as Knight Commander. I have ordered you here to address these rumors.” He explained in a loud clear voice. “They are accurate.” The mumbled grew in volume as worried glances were passed among the soldiers. Cas allowed a moment for the men to quite before continuing. “As of today, with the approval of the King, Azra’il will take my place as Knight Commander….” He turned to face the Alpha in question who turned and gave a deep low bow. Cas offered out his helmet which the man took graciously still bowing low. “ and by his side Zerachiel as Second in Command and Military Advisor.” The announcement caused another wave of voices as Cas rested a hand on Zerachiel shoulder as he bowed as well. The uproar of the soldiers forced the Omega to pause, as the two Alphas straightened; as he did, one of the older soldiers seem to push his way to the front, standing out before the crowd. He offered a salute and low bow to the Omega before Cas gave a nod, obviously allowing him to speak his peace.

“I would not question your wisdom Commander… However…” He began obviously a bit distressed. “I must ask after your health. The change is so sudden, are you ill?”

Castiel couldn’t help but offer a small sad smile at the question as some of the other soldiers nodded in agreement with the man’s concerns. “I assure you all I am in good health.” He answered, shifting a bit nervously. “Though I must confess that there is a reason behind my retirement as Knight Commander.” He acknowledged, turning to glance at the King almost as if looking for reassurance but he didn’t wait for the Alpha’s response. “I ask your forgiveness in violating your trust, but I have kept a grave detail about myself from you all for far too long. I am stepping down as Knight Commander because it is best for the Kingdom to remain united under the rule of an Alpha such as Azra’il and Zerachiel and not an Omega such as myself.” He announced, head held high and unashamed as he waited for the backlash that was sure to come.

There were loud murmurs emanating from the audience of soldiers. The murmurs sounded harsh. As some of the Alpha’s staggered forwards, reaching for their swords, clearly aggravated by the lies that the Omega has told. But they didn’t get far, their comrades held them back, murmuring about the King, and that even though Castiel was an Omega, he was a good leader. One of the soldiers at the front laid down his sword and his helmet, before placing his fist against his heart and falling onto one knee. The Knight Commander and his Second In Command, quickly followed into the honourable bow. The same bow the soldiers made for their fallen comrades. The other men slowly followed suit, until each and everyone had laid down their swords and fell to one knee for the Omega, in a universal respectful bow.

Castiel watched with cold resolve as swords were drawn. He didn’t move, didn’t make a defensive motion or step back… He would not show weakness even now; Omega or not. Instead he merely lifted a brow in the same disappointed scrutiny he had used on his men every time they grew out of line or did something unfavorable. He remained silent as the men were stopped, as well; curious to see the reaction. A reaction that he did not expect. He took a step back in surprise as every Alpha before him kneeled in respect, paying one last salute to the previous Knight Commander. Cas… Was at a loss for words, turning to find his replacements in a similar bow. He hesitated before resting a hand on each of their shoulders causing them to glance up at him as he offered a smile for perhaps the first time Dean and he had actually spoken. The two straightened and he offered a brotherly handshake. “Serve them well and they shall do the same. I have confidence in you both as does the King.” He mumbled to the softly before turning to move back next to Dean, remaining a few steps behind him as was customary for an Omega.

Dean smiled and took a step back until they were in line with each other. “I’m proud of you, they love you.” The men slowly rose and stood back into line, the two new Commanders stepped back into the mass, standing in the new position as to where the Commander and Second In Command stands. Dean smiled and stepped forward, standing in front of the front of the men, who all bowed. “Rise, soldiers. I am here merely to speak about your future. Firstly though, I am proud of how respectful you all of the new information. Of how you reacted to Castiel’s truth.” He stated before taking a deep breath. “I am not a forceful or aggressive King, we will not be fighting for more Kingdom, for more power. But do not mistake this for cowardice.” Dean almost shouted. “We will be ruthless. We will fight for what we have. What we love. Our families and loved ones will be safe when the Kingdom comes under attack. And we will win. We are strong together, and damn near unstoppable. We will be a peaceful Kingdom, until anyone crosses up, and then we will rise up, we will attack. And we will win!” Dean shouted, as he looked out at the men. It was the first time he had given a rally cry, a pep talk to the men, and he was quietly nervous about how he would be taken.

Cas glanced up as Dean moved next to him and gave a slight nod of his head. He was far too emotional to speak, not that he had anything to say even if he could. Thankfully, however, Dean apparently didn’t expect a reply and was soon addressing the men. Silence fell as the Monarch spoke, his voice confident and clear. It was the first time Cas had truly seen the man like this… Uplifting… Demanding… Kind. He had certainly seen him being aggressive but this was different this was a King speaking to his underlings not an Alpha to an Omega. Something seem to snap inside him break and realign… something warm… Before he could examine it too much a rising cry lifted from the crowd. “Long live the King!” A sole voice shouted before the men around it cheered and fell into cadence. “Long live the King! Long live the King!”

Dean smiled at his men, and placed his fist against his chest, saluting his men, before stepping back beside Castiel. “We should leave the new Commanders to speak with their men. Allow them to grow into the roll.” Dean said quietly to Castiel. He led the Omega off the makeshift stage and out of the courtyard. “I’m proud of you. You were an excellent Commander, they love you, and I’m sure you’ll always been their brother.”

Cas gave another acknowledging nod, falling into step next to the King as they were escorted out of the Courtyard. “As were you, Your Majesty.” Castiel offered, voice a bit rougher than usual as he tried to keep it together. “I am certain they took your words to heart. Though they are ready for battle at a moment notice, most dream of growing old and fat with their loved ones. Under your father, God rest his soul, that dream was more difficult to obtain. I do not believe you realize just how much hope you have given them today.”

Dean smiled and rested a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “I just want to be a good King. I don’t want to sacrifice any soldier or Alpha or Omega. A Kingdom isn’t powerful due to its size, but the amount of love it has.” Dean explained. “Why don’t you come back to my quarters, have a drink or two?” He offered. “Not my bedroom or my office.” He added with a smile.

Castiel’s gaze narrowed at the suggestion, obviously hesitant. He still didn’t trust Dean entirely but he supposed they needed to start somewhere. “I suppose that is agreeable. There is much we need to discuss.” He acknowledged with a nod.

Dean hummed. He waved his guards away so they could speak without being listened to. “You look like you’re about burst into tears. I want you to be able to relax after what happened, reflect on in and not just plunge straight into you’re next job.” Dean said softly, as he looked over to Castiel. “I’ll get out of this gear and so can you, into something more comfortable. I’ll get some Aide attire for you to choose from and an Omega tailor to ensure it fits you perfectly.” Dean explained.

Cas pursed his lips at that. Was it that obvious? He eyes the soldiers who had provided them with a respectable distance before sighing. “I have not denied myself suppressants in years… The emotional waves are… Difficult to handle at times.” He acknowledged, scrubbing a hand down his face in exhaustion. “I assure you, however, Sire, it is nothing I can not handle. I must admit though… I much rather start working as soon as a possible if it is all the same to you.”

“I know Castiel, but tomorrow. Everyone should take at least an evening off every now and then to reset and rest.” Dean explained softly. “Especially when they’ve gone through something even the hardest of Alphas would find emotional. Plus you will be working, you��ll be choosing your attire, and if you wish we can go over some of the rules you’ll need to follow.” Dean offered.

“Whatever you think is best, Your Majesty.” Cas replied with a small bow. “There is also the issue of my living quarters to address. I have already packed my things but I worry it may not be safe for me to spend any more time in the barracks than necessary. Gabriel was kind enough to volunteer to move them but I have not given him a destination as of yet.”

Dean nodded. “We can discuss that for tonight. There are a few free rooms in the Aide’s quarters, but my father only ever chose Alphas for Aides, if you feel unsafe we can discuss somewhere safer for you to stay.” Dean offered. “Would you like to view your options now?” He asked.

“No, Sire. Thank you. I feel the Aide quarters will be acceptable. I am certain I can handle myself if any decide to act unfavorable.” He acknowledged. “Since there are only a few I feel much more capable than in the soldiers barracks.”

Dean nodded. “Plus most are... elderly, and I may, unfortunately, forget to ask for your sword back.” He winked at the Omega. He led Castiel down some different corridors until he got to a dead end. “Rooms 1, 5, 7, 8, and 9 are all free for you to choose from. The other four will be empty until I appoint new Aides.” Dean explained.

Cas considered it for a moment. “I am certain they will all do adequately, Your Majesty. I can have Gabriel choose one for me. It really makes no difference to me.” He shrugged. “Though… If I may, I do have a questions, Your Grace… If you’d allow it.”

“Of course, Cas. And please, we are alone here. You may call me Dean.” Dean said softly. “Though I must add that Gabriel, if he is to stay with you, then he cannot pull pranks. He must be on his best behaviour at all times.” He added, quickly.

That had Cas hesitating, "Right of course... Dean." looking a bit unsure. It was obvious that he wasn't confident he could control the other Omega. "Perhaps it is best he remain in the servants quarters." He suggested after a moment. "I uh... have had some time to consider everything and meant to ask if it were possible... to gain access to the palace library when my presence is not needed."

“Oh of course you can, Cas.” Dean nodded. “And you can take books out at many times as you wish. If you would like to read something in the comfort of your own quarters.” Dean explained. “As your Gabriel, if you think he would be best in the servants quarters then he should go there. The Alphas here won’t be as forgiving as back in the barracks, and I don’t wish for him to be... spending a night or two in the cells.” Dean explained.

“Of course… No… You’re absolutely right, Sir-“ Cas hurried before cutting himself off. “/Dean/.” He corrected. “Gabriel is a handful, I know… And I can not tell you how much it means to me that you are allowing him as much as you are. He’s… the only family I have.” He mumbled, gaze lowering and voice going a bit gruff once more with emotion. He really need to reign it in! He cleared his throat, pulling himself together a bit more. “I can not thank you enough for allowing us to stay together even if its just within the same walls.”

Dean nodded. “Family is everything, even if it isn’t blood.” He explained. “My Brother is my family. My only family, I understand your need to have him close.” Dean said softly. “If you would prefer, Gabriel could be your... Aide of sorts. He can support you in your day to day business if you’d like. Many of the Aides here, have their wives to help them.” Dean offered.

Cas softened at that, offering a small smile towards the Alpha for the first time. “Thank you, Dean.” He mumbled, the name leaving him a bit easier now. “But, I think you were wise in your decision to deny me when I requested it. Gabriel may have been suitable for an Alpha in a rough environment like a soldiers barracks but he has very little tact or manners for a place in the palace… at least outside duties such as in the kitchen or launders.” He admitted. “No, I think it is best he stays where I am able to keep an eye on him while keeping my distance.” He acknowledged. He hesitated, his smile still in place before he realized he was staring and flushed a bit. “I should… change.” He mumbled awkwardly. “And perhaps see the tailor you mentioned. Shall we meet after supper for those drinks you promised, Your-… Dean?”

Dean nodded. “Of course. Would you like me to meet you here? Or would you like to come to me?” He asked softly. “You did well today, however. I am proud at how you handled yourself and addressed the men. As your King, I am proud to have you as my Infantry Aide.” Dean smiled warmly, resting his fist on his chest and bowing his head.

Castiel was prepared to brush off the compliments just as he usually did before the King /himself/ was saluting him! The flush that had tinted his skin darkened by a number of shades. He quickly returned the gesture before replying. “I…. I can come to you. I’m certain I can find my way.”

Dean nodded, as he stood up straight. “I’m sure there will be people around to help you if you get lost.” He smiled. “I shall see you soon, Cas. And please just wear something comfortable, I don’t wish to see you uncomfortable in anyway.” Dean explained softly.

Cas nodded simply. He supposed that he would have to get rid of a lot of his Alpha clothing now that he had announced his status… especially if they were courting. “Right. Yes. Of course.” He mumbled.

“I mean it Cas, if you would prefer to wear trousers and a shirt, then do so, ask the tailor for what you want. They will listen to you. It is your clothes and they want to make you feel good in them.” Dean explained. “There had never been an Omega Aide so you can choose your attire, from your shoes to your accessories.” Dean explained. “I’ll let you think about your options in peace.” Dean said before turning away. His guards flanking him silently.

Cas just nodded, watching the other man leave, gaze still glued to the place the King disappeared for a long while. In fact, it wasn’t until one of the servants paused to check on him that he seemed to snap out of it. He thanked them for their concern before sending them to fetch Gabriel and Cas’ things along with the tailor the King had mentioned. He chose a room at random before pushing open the door and started to shed his armor.

The tailor knocked on Castiel’s door a few moments later with a tape measure around her neck and a bag full of different clothes and material and colour spots for the Omega to choose from. She stepped back and waited patiently, her head bowed in respect to the Aide.

Castiel didn’t hesitate to pull open the door and offered a large smile to the woman. “Hello.” He greeted pleasantly. “You must be the tailor. Thank you for coming.” He offered stepping back to allow her to enter. “I’m afraid you’ll have your work cut out for me. I have something specific in mind and it won’t be easy. I fear it might be a long night for you considering I have an appointment with the King later this evening and will need it by then.” He warned.

[Note from the authors: Traditional Omega clothing tends to be form fitting with lighter colors ornate buttons and high simple colors with heavy Shanghai Tang influence. Such as this:

With trousers that are a mix between a skirt or dress.

Traditional Alpha clothing is more Indowestern influenced with simple trousers and side buttoned simplistic tunics that tend to drape towards the knees with semi-high colors that tend to hand open slightly Such as this:

It is traditional for an Alpha to accompany the outfit with a cape of the color of their house]

“Thank you, Sire. And I will have it sorted by then, I assure you.” She said, as she stepped into the room, with her head still bowed. “His Majesty asked for me personally, for I do the attire for Her Majesty, Princess Meg, I also used to do the dresses, for Her Majesty, Queen Mary, God rest her soul,” she added crossing herself. “So I am used to working to time restraints.”

Cas blinked in surprise at the woman's credentials. "That is very impressive." He mused lightly. "I'm glad I am in good hands. You must be busy consistently so I'll do my best to make this as quick as possibly. I'm looking for an Alpha's tunic that can be trimmed maybe something light... an off white perhaps...." He offered.

The tailor nodded and quickly went into her large bag and pulled out an Alpha’s tunic. “If I may say sir, I don’t usually carry Alpha-wear, but His Majesty explained that you may prefer it.” She said quietly. “If you’d like to change into this, it may be a bit big, but I assure you I will change it to fit.” She explained holding up a pristine white tunic and held it out for Castiel, her gaze still on the floor.

Cas gave another soft smile. "What is your name?" He asked curiously as he accepted the tunic and began to change into it, moving towards the mirror that was already in the room along with other furniture.

“Celeste, Sire.” Celeste replied quietly. She turned her back as Castiel changed, not wishing to see anything that she shouldn’t.

"Well, Celeste." He offered as he examined himself. "It is nice to meet you. My name is Castiel." He offered before pausing. "Can we shorten the length?" He knew that they wasnt traditional... that an alphas tunic needed to reach just above the knee and an Omegas ended at the waist. "About halfway down the thigh?" He clarified.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Sire.” Celeste replied as she stepped up to him and pinned the tunic to the tips of his fingers. “Is this acceptable, Sire?” She asked, as she continued around his body making the alteration.

"Perfect Celeste you're as amazing as you are talented." Cas complimented. "Is there anyway you can trade out these buttons? And how do you feel about embroidery? I'm thinking gold? What do you think?"

Celeste nodded and she finished making the hem of Castiel’s tunic neat. “We can do embroidery, however, unfortunately, Sire, depending on the amount you are wishing for it could take up to a couple of days to have it completed. There is unfortunately, no way around that. Please forgive me.” She said with a bow. “But I can change the buttons for something else, would you like to replace them or just have an exaggerated seem there, Sire?” Celeste asked.

"Thats fine Celeste don't worry. I don't want to push you too hard. Lets get everything else done and we'll see how much time we have. I'm thinking just a little embroidery anyways just something of a nod." He offered. "I'm sorry for pushing you so much." He added before considering the question. "Lets go with a bit of an exaggerated seam." He nodded. "And... Do you have any Omega trousers... something dark... maybe black?"

Celeste shook her head. “You are not pushing me, Sire, I assure you. If I may turn your attention back to the seam, we have a few different types.” Celeste explained, bringing out a few different types, this is the largest one.” She said, gently placing the experimental seam over Castiel’s shoulder and laying it across his front. At the seam it was split in half. Half an inch of white fabric jutted out from the original seam, ending in a gold edge. “This is called a Bias Bound Seam, Sire, it is by far the largest of all the seams. But will help to break up any embroidery you choose to have.” Celeste explained stepping out of the way for Castiel to see himself in the mirror.

Cas considered it a moment. “I love it.” He nodded it was very similar to an Omegas…. Perfect. “I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship Celeste.” He commented pleasantly. “You truly are brilliant.”

“I... thank you Sire.” Celeste replied, allowing herself a small smile. “Would you like the seam to go all the way to the bottom of the tunic, or stop where the buttons do?” She asked, starting to pin the stop of it, gently to the tunic.

“All the way. I want to make a statement. If Dean… I uh… mean… His Majesty has proven anything its that he likes to make a statement. I certainly can’t disappoint as the first Omega Aide now can I.” He teased lightly.

“No Sire.” Celeste blushed as she carefully pinned it down to the bottom of his tunic. “If you stand upright and hold your arms out to the side, Sire, I can start to measure and pin the garment where necessary.” She suggested. “Is there anywhere it feels too tight at the moment?” She asked.

Castiel complied without hesitation. He remained as still as possible as Celeste worked her magic before answering. “No though is there a way to bring in the waist a bit?” He asked curiously.

“Of course, Sire.” Celeste nodded, starting to pin the waist tight to his body, this is the most I will take it in by, would you like it this narrow or not, Sire?” She asked.

“Hmm?” Cas hummed considering it. “Perhaps not that much, just a small flare of the hips maybe. Subtle.” He explained.

“Of course, Sire.” Celeste nodded, altering the pins. “Is this better for you?” She asked.

"Perfect." He answered after examining it once more.

Celeste gave a small smile as she started to measure Castiel’s body. “What kind of embroidery were you thinking of, Sire? If you don’t have an idea, I have some examples to show you.” Celeste offered.

He was certainly glad the woman was being to be a bit more comfortable with him. She really was brilliant. "Gold light embroidery just along the seam and perhaps flaring at the shoulders and collar. Maybe something like vines?"

Celeste nodded. “That is a lovely design, Sire. I believe I have some examples in my bag.” She explained, as she started to measure Castiel’s legs. “May I ask you to open your stance, unfortunately, I need to measure your inside seam, Sire.” She asked softly, keeping her eyes away from anywhere inappropriate.

"Of course." He nodded widening his feet just as she indicated.

“Please forgive me, Sire.” Celeste said as she measured from his crotch to his knee and then from his knee to his ankle. She quickly stood back up and stepped back. “Thank you Sire.” She said, bowing her head. “That is all the measurements I need.” She added, putting her tape measure down and going to search for the vine embroidery style and a pair of black pants.

"Theres nothing to forgive Celeste." He reassured, moving to her side to watch he go through the different examples.

Celeste laid out a few different vine embroideries for Castiel to look through. One had thorns, another had small leaves, whilst another had small berries on the vines. “If you would like these altering in any way, Sire, I will see to it myself.” Celeste explained as she stepped back to allow Castiel to view them.

"That wont be necessary. This one" He stated, pointing to the simple vines with small leaves. "This one is perfect. I'd like to keep it simple so this throughout will be fine." He explained.

Celeste nodded and bowed her head. She placed that to one side as she packed away the other examples. “If you would like to put these on, then I can get these to fit. After that, I’ll be leaving you, Sire, unless you need me for anything else?” She asked softly.

“Well actually… I’m afraid theres a bit more if you don’t mind.” Cas admitted as he pulled the large willowing skirt like fabric on. He explained in detail the vision he saw; splitting the skirt to make a pair of billowy pant legs and adding a long stretch of the same material as almost a sash. Omega were not allowed to wear cloaks like an Alpha so he would create his own similar effect; and trouser were a bit odd for his status but the flowing fabric that clung to his ankles would make up for the masculine tone and allow him to where simple sturdy flats. That is… If Celeste could manage it in time.

“Absolutely Celeste.” Cas agreed eagerly. “From what I understand His Majesty, has made this top priority…” He offered though he wasn’t completely sure. But from what he understood it was accurate and he was to be the Royal Aide… Surely he had the power to approve that. “Whatever you need just ask.” He added. “And maybe sometime down the line when we both have some free time you might be willing to teach me how to sew?” He asked, looking a bit nervous. It was a simple skill Omega’s were suppose to learn at a young age but… well… He didn’t have a typical Omega education.

“Oh,” Celeste blushed. “Of course, Sire. Anything you wish from me.” She picked up her tape measure again, “may I just measure your ankles, as well, Sire, so the trousers will cling like you asked them to?” She asked as she went down onto one knee.

“Of course.” He nodded shifting to allow her better access to the appendage in question. “Thank you again for working so hard and helping me with this.”

“Of course not, Sire. This is but my job.” Celeste explained. “If you’d like, I can have the garments completely finished by tomorrow morning if you’d like for that.” She offered. “And then the day after you’ll have two more of the exact same garments ready for you.” She explained.

“Tomorrow?” He mumbled sounding a bit disappointed. “Yeah… I suppose if I have to wait that long then I’ll make do.” He offered with a reassuring smile. “Is there anything you could have ready for me for this evening. It doesn’t have to be so elegant maybe just a trimmed tunic and some loose trousers? It doesn’t have to be perfect… I just can’t wear my Alpha uniforms.” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not to night caps with the King.” He huffed before moving to sink into one of the over sized chairs. “Ugh… What am I even doing? I can’t do this… He’s the King! THE KING! And I’m…” He hesitated. “I’m just a commoner.” He sighed.

“I... Sire?” Celeste asked. She ignored his ramble, fearful of stepping out of line. “I can have the tunic and trousers ready for... this evening, but I unfortunately won’t have time to do all the embroidered vines, and I would prefer to have them all done together, Sire. Unless you think otherwise?” She’d asked, turning to face away from Castiel.

Cas seemed to snap out of his sudden self doubt. It was very unlike him. “Oh… Right… Sorry. That’s fine Celeste. If its okay with you I’ll wear the tunic and trousers tonight without the embroidery. If you can make another with and you can take as long as you need with those. I just… have nothing befitting an Omega or the Royal Aide.” He sighed, resting his chin in his hand.

“Of course, Sire. I’ll have it brought to you within the hour.” Celeste promised with a bow. “May I take the clothes you are wearing, Sire, to ensure it is the right size?” She asked, as she avoided looking at the Omega.

“Oh… Right… Sorry.” He nodded pushing to his feet and moving to change. “Just… don’t push yourself too hard on my account, alright?” He requested as he dressed in the clothes he had been wearing previously.

Celeste nodded. “Of course, Sire.” She said, turning her back to Castiel as he changed. She stayed silent, fearful of speaking out of turn.

When Cas was fully dressed (Aside from his armor) he turned back to the woman and paused. “Oh and Celeste?” He asked as he offered a small smile. “Its Cas. You don’t have to keep calling me Sire… Honestly its kinda weird.”

[Beginning] // [Previous] // [Next]

#destiel #rp #roleplay #dean winchester #castiel #castiel novak #Fantasy Kingdom AU #m/m #abo #a/b/o #abo au #suspicious nature #Destiel rp #Dean/Cas #Dean/Castiel

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another-lost-mc · 8 months

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Okay Jes but why are your OC's so barkable 😔

I love them sm and my only thoughts when I see them are "bark bark bark bark"

//pos ofc <33 I love them so much!!❤️

Also, hope you've been well!!💞

~ 💐

Me craving a demon that looked kind of demonic even in his “human” form and is a bit nerdy: Karasu

Me craving a sketchy demon that Lucifer the other characters can dislike and get jealous of: Azra

Overall I’d say it’s been a good week! The art commissions were a great mood booster lol. Things are getting busy at work again now that school’s back in session. 💙

#jes.replies

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libidomechanica · 4 years

Text

Untitled (“The moor”)

The moor, and shards with shrills, the white, and true is all alone:

and Heavn will, my way. Which truth extolled, and even to human

honour, when full low, along the deed done of impotent river since hast been hire take common cry, he does not Israels Crown down, but what can I expect while David was wonder at these kings were soon: then all the happy. He is men who love for on till waters w

hen he well nightmare we,

like yon you wilt thee broad wing out of they hanged, and be for grammer smocks married life unblessed in the joyous to ordained

to this song with, she plight. To her beauty doth beauty could she

whose Youth, blown, they made nullity! And when we shed his voice reveal. What dost taste the tide ebbs

in the stars the savage throat an atmosphere? The woods shall prophet oft, and you stood mong shepherd vest, and action be

though I feel, across the way so longer nurse that murther you pleasant playing “not your more prove” many thing game way to sorrow. Some with misty peak, my mother

cause exposd a prison air; the proud humility;

like a new t

inge in the spirits bark is soft touchd with Azra to them as he known the woods mingled into eternal day for to hire

wil on hire wil Till wants a Chief of the practisd, no Enemy can doo it be Right think of their Scribes in

my dream away! on hire

heer is a

wink, to water failing for the dangers mind. they were, even the crash of shadows wed a fair and after Head. to laughter: Leaving about my stout blemish or stirred pool in such a man. Thou blind; what anyone who can breake in a tree. Thy delicate and gay, he does it bleeping

at a wandering an empty nest, the cowslip braes, and all her beseemes

a virgins bowers!

And was never- wearied life, who like Principles an hour hearts. For miles away both have

lost thou! That evening, passe.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #131 texts

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suvaris · 5 years

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The Sun & The Hanged Man (:

The Sun: Share your most joyful memory.

“’With an incantation, which will work only if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory.’ Harry cast about for a happy memory. Certainly, nothing that had happened to him at the Dursleys’ was going to do. Finally, he settled on the moment when he had first ridden a broomstick.“

The book tipped forwards and her eyes lifted slightly as her mind wandered. Since discovering the book series outside of the films, Azra began to bring one of the books to the library when she and Dan opted to spend an evening reading together in silence, and for the most part, Harry Potter kept her comfortably focused and occupied for a few hours until either he went to bed or she needed to get up and do something else. This, however, pushed her thoughts outside the book and to how exactly she would produce a patronus charm should she have been in Harry’s place.

Afternoons spent in a little boat on the water in Istanbul came to mind immediately, her skin sun-warmed and cooled slightly every time a wave sent a spray of salt water into her face. A particularly large wave would nearly soak her small form and she’d giggle wildly every time, something that was always followed by a hearty, amused chuckle from her father. The sun shone in lacy, bright patterns on the waves, and even when she was finally exhausted and sunburned, she would beg her father to keep them out just a little longer. Dinner would still be there. Half the time he’d relent, too.

Or even as a teenager, after Feiyan and the council came into her life, the way that boy made her feel when she was barely seventeen… being atop the ferris wheel made her stomach flip, and he pulled her close as they reached the zenith, swearing he’d keep her safe with a laugh in his voice as she marveled at the dazzling colored lights that shone bright now that the sun had set. He made her feel like she could fly, like she was special, with his lips pressed to her temple and his hand atop her thigh. She remembered wanting to stay there, both at the wheel’s highest point and in that warm feeling brought on by a little alcohol and feeling completely loved.

But those memories hadn’t aged well, had they?

And anything else felt too much like Harry’s memory of his first time flying to be powerful. Creating rainbows with borrowed powers in the garden, eating enough sushi in public with Emmy to be considered a spectacle thanks to his speedster metabolism, borrowing Rose’s ability to summon just to mess with both her and Nadine… definitely fun, and she’d been happy, but it wasn’t what Remus would have wanted.

A moment later, she realized Dan was watching her, and she flashed a quick, small grin before she righted her book and started to read again.

The Hanged Man: Are you able to consider situations with an open mind, or do you find yourself sticking to what you know?

Emmy never seemed to hurt himself or anyone else as he raced around. He made it look effortless, even. Plus, what was the fun in the ability to copy everyone else’s magic if she never actually tried it? It was practically perfect for someone with a penchant for flitting from subject to subject with almost irritating quickness. He warned her to take it slow, and she tried… but it still resulted in an almost comical splash as she made a quick line for the Potomac and promptly fell in before she could manage to stop herself.

Just as quickly as she’d fallen, however, she zipped onto the shore, and this time she stopped herself quick enough to cause her to topple a few times before she came to a halt, completely soaked but beaming. Despite the quick flash of fear she felt as water rushed to meet her faster than she could blink, it had been fun, even exhilarating. Emmy’s bark of laughter sparked one of her own and she stared at the sky and caught her breath, beaming the entire while.

#memes.#grief for ts #i'm not sure if this qualifies but just in case #also i bet u didn't know jay would be an EDGELORD today #about.

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roomtemperaturemeat · 3 years

Text

the two azra’s!

#azra barks #art #coyote therian #coyotekin #therian #coyote kin #dragonkin #dragon therian #dragon kin #dragon #otherkin #otherkin art

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abdulloh-ibnu-suna · 4 years

Text

Astaghfirullah,

#Sejarah Kelam Pendidikan Agama Islam Nusantara Akibat Pembaratan

=Kerusakan Pendidikan Islam Nusantara

"Ketika IAIN, Depag, dan McGill berhubungan"

Hubungan Islam Nusantara dengan Timur Tengah cukup erat, khususnya sekitar awal abad ke-15 sampai akhir abad ke-19. Sekitar akhir abad ke-19, lebih dari 5.000 orang Indonesia belajar di Timur Tengah, terutama Mekah dan Madinah. Karenanya, pengaruh tradisi intelektual Islam Timur Tengah, khususnya Hijaz, terhadap pendidikan Islam di Nusantara sangat besar.

Menyusul berkembangnya tradisi Hijaz, yang berbeda dengan tradisi Cordova dan Baghdad sebelumnya, tradisi baru dalam Islam berkembang, sekitar akhir abad ke-19, yang bergerak dalam pendidikan dan ilmu pengetahuan Islam. Tradisi baru ini, kemudian disebut reformis, berpusat di al-Azhar, Kairo. Sejak masa itu, semakin banyak orang Indonesia belajar di al-Azhar, sejalan berkurangnya minat mereka belajar di Hijaz.

Dari al-Azhar sentris menjadi McGill sentris

Perkembangan tradisi baru di al-Azhar inilah yang menjadi salah satu rujukan utama pendirian IAIN. Di antara fakultas di IAIN, tiga diantaranya sama dengan fakultas di al-Azhar sejak 1930-an: Fakultas Ushuluddin, Syari`ah dan Adab. Sistem ujian tahunan juga diambil dari al-Azhar. Salah satu faktor yang mendukung pengaruh model al-Azhar adalah banyaknya lulusan al-Azhar yang memegang kedudukan penting di Departemen Agama dan merancang pendirian IAIN.

Namun, belakangan terjadi perubahan dan pembaruan lebih mendasar menyangkut isi program studi dan metode pengajaran. Pembaruan ini dilakukan ketika Harun Nasution menjabat rektor IAIN Syarif Hidayatullah (1973-1984) dan kemudian diterapkan berangsur-angsur pada IAIN-IAIN lain.

Perubahan tersebut diilhami baik oleh kebijakan pembangunan nasional yang mensyaratkan dimensi kehidupan keagamaan yang rasional dan dinamis, maupun oleh tradisi akademis Barat. Tidak dapat diragukan bahwa pengalaman Harun Nasution yang pernah belajar di al-Azhar dan meraih gelar doktor di Institute of Islamic Studies, Universitas McGill, Kanada, merupakan salah satu faktor yang mendorong pembaruan IAIN. Saat yang sama, perubahan itu menekankan bahwa IAIN harus menjadi lembaga pengembangan ilmu pengetahuan agama, bukan pusat doktrin Islam seperti pada periode sebelumnya.

Salah satu indikator tentang orientasi IAIN adalah kerjasama internasional. Sebelumnya, hubungan luar negeri Indonesia dalam bidang kajian Islam lebih berorientasi ke Timur Tengah. Akan tetapi belakangan semakin banyak tenaga pengajar dan/atau lulusan IAIN yang melanjutkan studi di dunia Barat. Gejala itu sudah ada sejak 1960-an, tapi semakin kuat sejak akhir 1980-an. Kebanyakan mahasiswa dan peneliti ini dikirim ke Universitas McGill dan Leiden, sedangkan jumlah lebih kecil dikirim ke berbagai universitas di Amerika Serikat, Australia, dan negara Barat lain.

Sebagaimana ditulis dalam website Departemen Agama, www.ditpertais.net terkait latar belakang hubungan kerjasama IAIN dengan McGill, hubungan antara IAIN dan Departemen Agama dan McGill dimulai sekitar 50 tahun lalu ketika McGill’s Institute of Islamic Studies (MIIS) pertama kali didirikan.

Di antara lulusan pertama MIIS adalah Prof. Dr. Harun Nasution, yang kemudian mendirikan Fakultas Pascasarjana di IAIN dengan mengikuti model McGill. Tokoh-tokoh lain yang pernah belajar di MIIS pada tahun 50-an antara lain adalah Prof. Mukti Ali, MA dan Prof. Dr. Mohammad Rasjidi, keduanya pernah menjadi Menteri Agama.

Pada tahun 1970-an, 17 dosen dari beberapa IAIN mendapatkan beasiswa dari CIDA dan Hazen Foundation untuk belajar di MIIS. Setelah tamat, mereka kembali ke tanah air dengan menduduki posisi penting baik di Departemen Agama maupun di IAIN.

Peran McGill melalui program bilateral CIDA dalam ikut serta mengembangkan kapasitas internal IAIN diakui cukup signifikan. Proyek kerjasama IAIN-McGill telah berhasil memberikan beasiswa dosen-dosen IAIN ke McGill Graduate Studies dan lebih dari 1.400 orang menerima pelatihan-pelatihan mengajar, riset, managemen, dan belajar Islamic studies, religious studies, serta library and information studies. Bantuan teknis yang diberikan oleh staff McGill juga merupakan andil yang cukup besar dalam pengembangan kapasitas IAIN.

Dari kerjasama CIDA-DEPAG tertutama dirancang sebagai bentuk program beasiswa untuk meningkatkan kualifikasi tenaga-tenaga akademik di 14 IAIN di seluruh Indonesia. Proyek kerjasama fase ke-1 ini telah berhasil memberikan beasiswa kepada 50 dosen IAIN, terdiri dari 44 untuk tingkat master dan 6 untuk tingkat doktoral. Dari jumlah alumni McGill yang relatif banyak ini kemudian terbentuklah jaringan yang sering disebut sebagai ”McGill Mafia.”

Puncak akhir dari hubungan kerjasama ini adalah terbentuknya IISEP (IAIN Indonesia Social Equity Project), yang mencoba membangun kemitraan antara McGill, Departemen Agama dan kedua IAIN Jakarta dan Yogyakarta. Proyek ini dirancang untuk membantu rencana-rencana terperinci yang dikembangkan oleh kedua institusi tersebut dalam upayanya untuk mengembangkan diri menjadi universitas.

Kerjasama lainnya dijalin oleh Departemen Agama RI dengan dua universitas di Jerman, yaitu Universitas Hamburg dan Universitas Leipzig. Ruang ligkup kerjasama, antara lain: beasiswa bagi program doktor dalam bidang kajian Islam di Universitas Leipig, program pertukaran dosen dan kerjasama penelitian, dan seminar bersama.

Di samping dengan universitas dari Jerman, Depag juga mengadakan perjanjian kerjasama dengan universitas dari Australia dan universitas dari Belanda. Dengan Australia Depag menandatangani perjanjian Arrangement between The Australia-Indonesia Intitute of the Australian Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade and The Department of Religious Affairs of Republic of Indonesia in relation to Partnership in education and training of regional Islamic Intitutions pada 09 Juni 2004 di Jakarta.

Perjanjian kerjasama ini menyelenggarakan program pelatihan pascasarjana untuk IAIN/STAIN luar Jawa. Di antaranya pengiriman empat dosen IAIN/STAIN luar Jawa untuk mengikuti program pelatihan selama satu tahun di beberapa universitas di Australia.

Sementara perjanjian kerjasama dengan Belanda ditandatangani oleh Direktur Jenderal Kelembagaan Agama Islam dan Rektor Universitas Leiden di Jakarta pada tanggal 26 April 2004. Di antara isi perjanjiannya adalah pengiriman mahasiswa Indonesia untuk belajar di Universitas Leiden dan program penelitian bersama bagi 14 tenaga pengajar perguruan tinggi agama Islam di Leiden University.

Adanya perubahan IAIN yang dulunya mengacu pada Al-Azhar dan mulai berubah ke Barat, hingga menjadikan IAIN sebagai universitas, telah berdampak, antara lain, IAIN banyak menelurkan pemikir-pemikir liberal.

Sebagaimana diungkapkan Dr Adian Husaini yang mengutip tulisan Prof Dr Azyumardi Azra saat menjabat sebagai Rektor IAIN Syarif Hidayatullah, Ciputat yang dimuat dalam buku IAIN dan Modernisasi Islam di Indonesia (2002, hal. 117), yang diterbitkan atas kerjasama Canadian International Development Agency (CIDA) dan Direktorat Pembinaan Perguruan Tinggi Islam (Ditbinperta) Departemen Agama, bahwa IAIN mengajarkan Islam yang liberal.

“Sebagai lembaga akademik, kendati IAIN terbatas memberikan pendidikan Islam kepada mahasiswanya, tetapi Islam yang diajarkan adalah Islam yang liberal. IAIN tidak mengajarkan fanatisme mazhab atau tokoh Islam, melainkan mengkaji semua mazhab dan tokoh Islam tersebut dengan kerangka, perspektif dan metodologi modern. Untuk menunjang itu, mahasiswa IAIN pun diajak mengkaji agama-agama lain selain Islam secara fair, terbuka, dan tanpa prasangka. Ilmu perbandingan agama menjadi mata kuliah pokok mahasiswa IAIN.”

Menurut Adian, pengakuan Azyumardi tentang corak liberal dan liberalisasi pendidikan Islam di IAIN itu tentu saja menarik untuk kita simak, sebab disampaikan bukan dengan nada penyesalan, tetapi justru dengan nada kebanggaan. IAIN merasa bangga, sebab sudah berhasil mengubah banyak mahasiswanya yang kebanyakan berbasis pesantren/madrasah menjadi mahasiswa atau sarjana-sarjana liberal.

Adian menyebutkan apa yang ditulis dalam buku tersebut bahwa proses liberalisasi itu dimulai dari pulangnya para kafilah yang menimba ilmu di Institute of Islamic Studies of McGill University. Mereka mendapat didikan dari profesor-profesor Islamic Studies kenamaan semisal Charles J. Adam, pakar dalam sejarah Islam; Wilfred Cantwell Smith, pakar sejarah peradaban Islam dan perbandingan agama; N. Barkes, ahli Turki dan sekularisasi di dunia Muslim, Herman Landolt, pakar filsafat, sufism, dan Syiah; Wael Hallaq, pakar hukum Islam, dan sebagainya. ”Para alumni McGill ini, dengan latar belakang dan keahlian yang berbeda, pada gilirannya memberikan kontribusi yang cukup signifikan dalam pengembangan wacana akademik kajian keislaman dan dunia birokrasi di tanah air.” (hal. vii-viii).

Alumni Barat telah keliru parah,

Di antara alumni McGill menyatakan alasannya belajar studi Islam ke Barat, sebagaimana di lansir Majalah Hidayatullah, seperti Dr Siti Syamsiatun, MA, lulusan Islamic Studies McGill University, belajar Islam di Barat tidak kalah dengan kuliah di Timur Tengah. Namun mereka tanpa sadar tidak mengetahui pada dasarnya ini merupakan makar dari Blok Barat yang mencoba memasukan Liberalisme ke dalam Islam.

Siti mencontohkan orang-orang telah menjadi lulusan Barat, misalnya Harun Nasution. Ia merasa bersyukur bisa kuliah di Barat. Dia tidak tau bahwa dia dan mereka itu merupakan korban dari proyek liberalisasi Islam oleh pihak blok barat.

Dia mengatakan “Cara studi di Barat sangat intensif, satu kelas hanya enam - dua belas orang, sehingga interaksi dosen dan mahasiswa sangat baik,” terang Siti yang mendapat beasiswa tahun 1996 dari Depag. Tidak hanya itu, menurut Siti, metodologi di Barat lebih kaya. Namun Dia tidak tau bahwa itu semua merupakan tipu daya pihak barat agar tertipu dan mau mengikuti skenario mereka.

“Di Barat kita tidak hanya menggunakan metodologi studi-studi Islam yang tradisional, tapi juga menggabungkan metode-metode yang ditemukan di ilmu sosial seperti sosiologi, histori, psikologi kita gunakan juga untuk memahami keberagamaan,” jelasnya. Yang lebih unggul lagi, tambah Siti, di McGill tidak hanya ’speak-speak’, tapi living practicies by muslim around the world juga menjadi bagian dari studi. Dia mengatakan hal itu karena dia belum tau maksud ilmu sosial yang pihak barat gunakan untuk meliberalkan pandangan hidupnya terhadap Islam.

Lain halnya di Timur Tengah.

Menurut yang Siti ketahui, di Mesir untuk S1 masih seperti pengajian, struktur kurang jelas, banyak menghafal, satu kelas terdiri dari banyak mahasiswa. “Itu kurang intensif,” cetusnya. Dia tidak tau bahwa di Mesir(Al Azhar) itu Aqidah yang diutamakan maka disana diwajibkan hafal Al Qur'an dan Hadis untuk kemudian menjurus terhadap penerapan melalui Akhlak, pengajian di Al Azhar merupakan metode sunah yang mengikuti tuntunan rosululloh sholallohu 'alaihi wassalam dalam hadis, dan struktur disana memang terbagi menjadi 4 kelas mahzab sebagai kebijakan Al Azhar, dia(Siti) harusnya paham.

Di Universitas McGill, program Islamic Studies terdiri dari 4 jurusan, yaitu: Pemikiran Islam, Hukum Islam, Sejarah Islam, dan Pendidikan Islam. “Di sana yang lebih enak lagi, kita bisa mengambil subjek (mata kuliah-red) di fakultas lain,” tutur Siti.

Sementara itu, pengajar Islamic Studies di McGill ada yang Muslim dan non Muslim. Menurut Siti, pengajar non Muslim memiliki kualifikasi yang sangat tinggi, seperti dosen di bidang Tafsir yang menguasai bahasa Arab dengan baik, kebudayaan Arab, dan sebagainya. “Kadang-kadang kita sampai bingung, ini orang Islam atau bukan karena pengetahuannya tentang Al-Quran, Hadis justru lebih baik dari kita,” aku Siti. Dan dia tidak tau lagi bahwa mereka memang menguasai Ilmu Islam tetapi mereka membolak-balikan agar dia mengikuti permainan mereka agar termasuki Liberalisme.

Siti juga mengaku, dalam materi yang mereka berikan juga didapati bias-bias peninggalan dari orientalis. “Tapi, untuk sarjana-sarjana mulai tahun 80-an, 90-an sudah mulai fair dalam memandang agama lain,” tambahnya. Dan inilah bukti akibat Liberalisme yang telah dimasukan kedalam Islam dan ini telah merusak kezahiran Islam,

Kallaa (كَلَّا) (sekali-kali tidak)&Katakan tidak pada Liberalisme!

Astaghfirullah,

Yaa robb, Yaa Alloh, Yaa Jabbaar, semoga pendidikan Islam di Nusantara menjadi Lurus dengan mulai banyaknya lulusan dari Madinah atau Mesir yang membangun pendidikan Islam yang Lurus di Nusantara mulai dari Ma'had atau Perguruan Tinggi Islam. Semoga Alloh ta'alaa merahmatimu Nusantara, Aami....n.

Allah Subhanahu wa ta'alaa berfirman:

اهْدِنَا الصِّرٰطَ الْمُسْتَقِيمَ

"Tunjukilah kami jalan yang lurus,"

(QS. Al-Fatihah 1: Ayat 6)

Allah Subhanahu wa ta'alaa berfirman:

صِرٰطَ الَّذِينَ أَنْعَمْتَ عَلَيْهِمْ غَيْرِ الْمَغْضُوبِ عَلَيْهِمْ وَلَا الضَّآلِّينَ

"(yaitu) jalan orang-orang yang telah Engkau beri nikmat kepadanya; bukan (jalan) mereka yang dimurkai, dan bukan (pula jalan) mereka yang sesat."

(QS. Al-Fatihah 1: Ayat 7)

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