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aita-blorbos · 5 months

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AITA for destroying my own family ?

I am part of a race of creature that have magic powers. When I was young, my powers were too intense and they caused me to destroy my own home town. My parents, my family... I lost everything that day. I can live much longer then the average human so I spend at least 2 000 alone. Eventually I found a job as the servant of the local deity. He was a man that would kill his own children, but his children were so devoted to him. I helped him in the war he partook in and would even get rid of the body of his dead children whom he used as soldiers. At some point, only two of them survived. While I did feel bad for them, I never bothered learning their name because there were too many of them and I knew that if I got attached, I would suffer to lose them, like I suffered to lost my family. Anyway, back to the main point, I envied my boss for how his kids were still so obedient and loyal, while I was all alone and had no one so I asked him for an advice and he told me that I should create my own family too. He told me that the onky link that matter was blood connection and that because of this, his children would love him no matter what. So I asked him if he would accept to help me have a baby too. If I had a child that was linked to me by blood, it wouldn't matter how unlovable I actually am, this child would still love me because we share a blood link. He accepted as long as I would help him but he got killed in the meanwhile. So I worked hard for a millenial to help freeing him. In the meantime I took over 3 people. One young child that was initiated to the rituals of our religion. He could barely speak, but I took care of him. A little girl whose mother abandonned. I would praise her often as long as she obeyed. And one man young enough to be my child as well who got along very well with the little girl of my boss.

With them I found the family I dreamt of. No father, no one else. Just me as their mother whom they should love but in reality I knew they didn't loved me. Who could when I was the monster who killed her own family ? They were just hanging with me because they were all alone. Like I with my boss. They were staying with me because they had nowehere to go. Like I with my boss. They were following my goals because they had no other purpose in life. Like I with my boss. In reality, I was still alone. I gave them what they wanted but not what they needed, feeding on their past and keeping them entrapped in it like I am rather then helping them heal from it. But I kept on anyways, still acting as a mother towards them. Making sure that should they disobey I would punish them. And that soon I would have my baby, the one person who would love me or rather would have no reason to deflect from my side. Because this family I created. I ended up causing it to fall apart. My adoptive son rebelled against me and helped our ennemy because he disagreed with my way in how I was trying to lobotomize our boss's daughter. My adoptive daughter rebelled too and tried to interefere with the process. Seems like they burning them using magic fire wasn't enough. So I killed her, I have no use for children who won't obey. And then my adoptive son betrayed us for good. So when he, our boss's daughter and her older sibling went to kill me, me and my other adoptive son, the one that did not betrayed me and never caused me to ever mistreat him, I knew I was right about my adoptive son and my adoptive daughter. They didn't loved me. They would deflect from me. And my boss having left, the only chance I had to find someone who wouldn't abandon me by having a child related by blood to me had now disappeared. Out of spite, I lied to my boss daughter and her sibling by making them believe I had changed my mind, but in reality I was just helping them to hurt my boss, by making him realize that the only person who was by his side betrayed him. Like my son and my daughter did to me. I knew it, that only through blood I could have the love I dreamt of, someone who would love me, me and only me, without having to share with anyone else. But that didn't happened.

Instead, I spend the only moment that I was still alive thinking about what if things had happened differently. Then, turned out the only person who was still by my side, my other adoptive son, was still here, alive, dying slowly as I was. I told him the truth, he asked me why I only waited now to betray that man... I don't even know. I just wanted my baby. I hope maybe if I waited...I would finally have it, the one person who would love me. The one reason why I made all these decision in the first place. I couldn't think of it, all I sense in that question was that he too wanted to deflect from my side and that's normal, in reality no one could ever love me unless restricted by an unbreakable chain. So I asked him if he would have wished to join our ennemies. He answered angrily that it was out of the question and that he would die then abandonn me. I couldn't believe my ears. I though he was joking when he said I was like a mother, a sister, a god to him. But I realized he was genuine. I realized someone in this world could love me... that maybe it was the same for my other son and my daugther... that maybe we could have been a real family, that I was blind... this entire time they were here for me. And I ruined everything. I lost them forever. Just when I realized the extent of my sins, it was the moment were all strengh left my body. My last words were a "I am sorry" I barely had the strengh to utter... now it's too later for me, it's too later to be redeemed. Forgiveness cannot be granted for me...

So... AITA ?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

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gaily-daily-musings · 10 months

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This is an outline for part 3 of my obimaul fic in which it started out as nasty throne sex on Mandalore that somehow turned into fluff and a plot. Here is the link to the series on ao3. Please enjoy this rough draft that concludes the story!

It takes a while for Obi-Wan to calm down from the revelation that the Chancellor is Sidious. But once he does they begin to prepare for his inevitable arrival. It doesn't go very well. They disagree on almost every plan they can come up with before they truly land on something.

The key to victory, Maul insists, is getting Sidious to come to them. Maul is convinced that to confront him on Coruscant would be disastrous. Obi-Wan disagrees. He thinks they should inform the Council. But Maul has no intention to inform the Council. Fuck the Council. Even if it worked, they would immediately lock Maul up and take Obi-Wan away.

Before they can come up with a unilateral decision, Anakin shows up with Ahsoka in tow. Their guns (sabers) ablazing. It's been a full week since Obi-Wan had been captured and (against the wishes of the Council) the two had snuck off to rescue Obi-Wan. Ahsoka tagged along because she wasn't gonna let Anakin have all the fun playing Hero.

They're ready to knock heads but when they arrive on Mandalore they find Obi-Wan having breakfast at the table with Maul and Savage.

Anakin rushes in causing a scene. Clearly they have brainwashed Obi-Wan! In the ensuing fight Obi-Wan plants himself between both parties, holding out his palms to stop the madness. He tells Anakin straight up that Sidious is Palpatine. Anakin doesn't believe him. He adamantly denies it and says that Maul has warped his thinking.

Maul sneers. "I knew we couldn't count on Sidious' new pet."

"What was that??" Anakin hisses.

"He's been grooming you since you first met! You're too far gone to be of any use to me, Skywalker!"

Anakin brandishes his weapon and everyone begins shouting again. Ahsoka is able to help calm Anakin down. Obi-Wan explains in a soft voice that Palpatine really was Sidious. He tricked them all. They need to fight.

"You will see when he arrives." Maul sneers. "You will all see."

Eventually Anakin believes Obi-Wan (sort of) but he doesn't trust the two Darksiders.

"We can take him on our own! We don't need these two!" Anakin snarls at Savage and Maul who both snarl back at him.

Anakin doesn't like this. Not one bit. Anakin and Maul continue to hiss like loth cats at each other. Obi-Wan has to painstakingly bring Maul and Anakin together without letting one kill the other. It's a massive headache.

Then Maul gets the idea that perhaps Anakin can be of use after all. With the "chosen one" here (he says this with the utmost sarcasm) perhaps they stand a chance of overwhelming the Sith Lord.

Anakin very maturely sticks his tongue out at him.

In order for their plan to lure Sidious to Mandalore to work, Anakin must mask his force presence. He HATES this plan. He doesn't want to wear the inhibitor cuffs. For peace of mind, they give Anakin the key so he can take the cuffs off anytime he wants.

Now with Anakin hidden from both Light and Dark users, Maul announces his rule to the rest of the galaxy. That he's taken over Mandalore and intends to begin his own little coalition of planets. It's all over the holonet. Now all they have to do is wait for Sidious to take the bait.

With nothing to do the next two days the group gets bored. In the meantime Anakin and Ahsoka play card games. Savage practices his forms. Obi-Wan wants to free Satine but Maul immediately refuses. He will free her only after the deed is done. Obi-Wan relents.

Later Obi-Wan slips away to go visit her. Maul follows him. True to his word, she'd been left alone in her cell since that first day. Alone to imagine all the horrors Obi-Wan was suffering on a daily basis.

She brightens when she sees him approach. Obi-Wan smiles at her. Like she is the sun come out. Maul hates her. He hates everything about her.

Satine thinks he's come to rescue her at last. Obi-Wan shakes his head. He explains that Anakin and Ahsoka are here and that they have a plan with Maul to defeat the evil Sith Lord Sidious who is actually the Chancellor. It's a lot for her to take in.

He tells her that he has promised not to turn Maul in after they take Sidious out. In exchange for his continued freedom, Maul will step down from Mandalore's ruler and reinstate Satine as Duchess.

"How do you know you can trust his word? What if the moment you kill Sidious he turns on you?"

"Well, the simple answer is that I have Anakin and Ahsoka with me."

"And the not so simple one?"

Obi-Wan hesitates. "I think…I think I can trust him with this. Gathering power, taking your throne, it was all to intimidate Sidious. With him gone there is no need for it anymore."

"But what about you, my love? I fear for you."

Obi-Wan presses a palm to the glass. She reaches for his hand. Pressing her own against his.

"I will be fine. I promise."

"Come back. Come back to me always."

Maul turns away. He's heard enough.

That evening they get ready for bed. Anakin and Ahsoka have insisted on staying with Obi-Wan as they keep watch the past two nights. Maul catches Obi-Wan on his way back from Satine and drags him back to his own room.

Maul locks the door behind him. He wants to hurt him. He wants to make him wither and scream the same way his heart does. How dare he even talk to her! How dare he look at her when he was not allowed!

"Strip." He snaps.

Obi-Wan blinks up. "Good evening to you too."

"Strip! Now!"

Obi-Wan frowns but does as he's told. He didn't have to. Not anymore. Skywalker was here with his little Padawan. More importantly, the inhibitor cuffs were gone. Obi-Wan could fight back if he wanted. In fact he had expected the other man to do just that. But he's not doing what Maul had expected at all. He's getting undressed just as Maul ordered. He should be telling Maul to leave. He should be clenching his fists and standing his ground. Maul would have responded by shoving him backwards. Then Obi-Wan was supposed to yell and call for help. Maul would get in a couple of punches before the welps came in and saved their precious Master from Maul's monstrous appetite.

But Obi-Wan sits on the edge of his bed. His chest is hairy, filled with scars from many battles past. He is a great warrior. And even for all his battle hardened skin, his heart remains open and soft. His eyes remain a bright blue. No gold to be seen.

Before he can truly register what was happening, Maul has undressed himself and climbed into Obi-Wan's lap. He wraps his arms around his neck. He breathes in his scent. His sweat.

"Fuck me." He demands petulantly.

Obi-Wan smirks. "Is that an order or a request?"

"We both know you'll do whatever you want either way. What does it matter?"

Obi-Wan does not push him off. He does not deposit Maul on the floor where he belongs. Obi-Wan's fingers trail down his stomach to his nethers.

Maul cannot stop himself from stiffening at the initial touch. The breach pulls up unwanted memories from his boyhood. He tries to swat them away. His shoulders start to shake regardless. Obi-Wan kisses his brow. He seems to understand Maul's need to keep going. He didn't want Obi-Wan to ask. Didn't need him to slow down.

Obi-Wan keeps fingering him, slow and steady. It's irritating.

"Just do it." Maul growls.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Why not?" Maul snaps. He should. Obi-Wan should want to hurt him.

"Because I don't derive pleasure from bringing others pain."

He repositions Maul back against the wall and settles between the vee of his legs. Obi-Wan presses in. At first it's stinging pain and hot flesh splitting him open. Obi-Wan's hands do not let go.

"Stay with me, darling." He says.

Maul swallows.

Obi-Wan shifts and his cock slots into place. Oh. Oh. That was–that was actually nice. Really, really nice. He…

"Fuck." Maul pants.

"That's the idea, love."

Their breaths mingle together. He moans loudly. Marveling at the pleasures he never knew existed.

Tomorrow, one or both of them may die. But tonight, this man was his and his alone. He curls close into his chest and kisses him.

In the morning at breakfast Anakin and Ahsoka aren't speaking to each other. They had a huge fight last night. Anakin doesn't want Ahsoka fighting with them against Sidious. Obi-Wan is inclined to agree. Ahsoka looks at him, betrayed. With both her Masters forbidding it, she is benched to the sidelines. But they compromise with her. She will wait outside, only coming in to help if they absolutely needed it.

Sidious takes the bait. He arrives the following afternoon. He is eager to dispose of the loose end of his former apprentice. Obi-Wan had not fully believed it until he looked upon the Chancellor's twisted face. It is ugly in his hatred. Palpatine looks at him with only minimal surprise. His mouth twists up into a cruel smile.

"A team up then?" He laughs darkly. "It will do you no good."

"They're not alone." A voice calls out.

Palpatine freezes. At last he looks unsure of himself. He turns to see Anakin Skywalker as he frees himself from the cuffs. They fall to the floor with a thud.

"Anakin my boy,"

"Save your lies, old man." Anakin hisses. "I don't want to hear them anymore."

Palpatine turns his angry gaze back up to Maul who smirks down at him.

"Something wrong?" He asks. "Did you think I did not know about you grooming your new apprentice?"

Palpatine attacks. Lightning spewing forth from his fingers.

The battle rages. It shakes the entire building with its force. Palpatine's saber flashes and plunges itself into Savage's chest. Maul screams and goes to his side. Savage's ragged breath wheezes in agony.

"I'm not like you brother. I never was."

With Maul distracted Palatine means to sever him as well. But Obi-Wan attacks, sending him back. Then Obi-Wan advances, thinking he's got him on the ropes. But it was a faint. Palpatine lashes out, wounding Obi-Wan on his side. He falls to the floor.

Anakin shouts, knocking the Sith Lord back. He puts himself between Obi-Wan and Palpatine, anger clear in his gaze. Maul jumps back into fray.

Together, the two fight Sidious with a ferocity even the dark lord of the Sith cannot match. Desperate, Sidious conjures lightning to his hands. He unleashes it in the direction of a helpless Obi-Wan, still clutching his side on the floor.

"Master!"

"Kenobi!"

Both men move. Maul is faster than Anakin. He pushes Obi-Wan out of the way, taking the full force of it. He screams as his skin is cooked from both inside and out.

In the end it is Anakin who delivers the final blow. Slicing Palpatine's head clean off his shoulders. Sidious is finally gone.

Obi-Wan crawls over to where Maul lies. Obi-Wan holds him to his chest, cradling him in his arms. Maul reaches up, running a hand over his cheek. He coughs as blood splatters over his chin.

"Tell me…are you–?"

"I'll be fine." Obi-Wan's lips brush his fingers. "Just hold on now, help is on the way."

Maul struggles to breathe, his hand curls into Obi-Wan's beard. He's been struck with force lightning before, but this was of a different caliber. Sidious had been aiming to kill, not maim.

Obi-Wan huffs, not unlike a laugh. "You saved my life." He says with incredulity. "Did I manage to finally teach you something about compassion after all?"

Maul wheezes, snorting gruffly. "Don't be…an idiot. The only one…allowed to kill you…is me."

He exhales and closes his eyes. It was over. It was finally over.

#i left this ambiguous on purpose #cuz i want ppl to imagine the ending they want #personally i prefer the one where maul dies #but you are free to assume he doesn't!#he's just resting his eyes!#a few years from now he'll pop back up like the cockroach he is #and then claim Obi-Wan once and for all #obimaul #fic drabble

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orphancookie69 · 1 year

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Health Rant: Neurolens

What in the heck is a Neurolens? Well, I will tell you. Oh, and this is a friendly reminder to schedule your annual eye exam at your local optometrist today!

Background:

Let’s start with my bias/background. So I have always had good healthcare growing up, my dad worked very hard to make that a reality. I am in a partnership and we have healthcare together. Vision, Dental, and Health. It is an expensive thing to have, I have learned as an adult. The last couple of years has seen a lot happening on the health front, and in dealing with IVF stuff it was easy to forget about Vision. The last time I had my eyes checked, was at least 3 years ago. Well, my partner mentioned they wanted to cut VSP as we were not using it much and told me to get my eyes checked.

I wear glasses and boy do I look good in them. (Think sexy librarian). I believe last time I got the prescription done at Brea Optometry and processed the glasses at Costco Vision Center. And I have not been keeping up with my annual eye exam. I use my glasses for eye strain from migraines, night driving, and computer/reading stuff.

So I got my eyes checked out, this is a weird thing to notice but in getting my exam done-I used all the machines in the testing room! I honestly thought that my left eye was worse than my right, and it turns out I had that backwards. My optometrist mentioned a new kind of lens that neurologist paired up with optometrist to make: Neurolens. First, why would I (or anyone suffering with migraines/headaches), need this? My eyes want to veer left/right vs being straight ahead, my mind forces them straight ahead. When my eyes overwork trying to be “normal” the strain is felt along the jaw or neck muscles, because in the human body-everything is connected. I myself usually have a small to large pain scale migraine daily-I suffer from Chronic Non-Nauseating Migraines- since I was in my preteen years.

The Neurolens will bring the information to my eyes, compared to my eyes working to find the information I am looking at. Less strain, in theory, is less pain. Less pain, well, that is probably self explanatory. While I have lived with pain long enough to do so with professional ease, a bit of a break would be heavenly. It’s probably a strange thing to be afraid of, but I do a lot and deal with a lot of pain while I am it-and worry that I won’t be able to finish my duties. Or that I will push myself too far and I won’t be able to drive the one time a month I can’t drive through the pain to take myself to urgent care.

Anyways, so I bit the expensive bullet and decided to try blue light (good for glare from computers), transition, and neurolens glasses for just under $1000. My partner is somewhat ok with this and wants me to save this for tax purposes later when we do our 2023 taxes in 2024. The Neurolens was 80% of the cost of the whole glasses, my optometrist said that only about 1,000 offices offer it-which just in OC alone there could be 1,000 optometry offices. The number seems high, but not in the bigger picture.

I gotta tell you though, I feel hella bad about it. I will get my money back and more in daily use-especially if I am not getting new glasses every year but like every couple of years. But man, I feel bad. Like to a certain degree, it is not my fault my mom did a spinal tap on me when I was a preteen and triggered migraines that run on her side of the family. But damn if I don’t want someone else to pay the price for someone elses mistakes. But not much I can do about that.

Research:

Anyways, it will be less than 2 weeks before my new glasses get in. In the meantime, let’s play the research game! Here is the site so you can follow along in the research:

https://www.neurolens.com/

93% Sucess Rate, according to Google. Those are some decent odds, in the past couple of years alone I have taken on things with less likely odds than that. Anyone here who prefers videos, Youtube has quite a few videos.

Reality:

I got my glasses in, they came in a sooner than I thought they would. I put them on, and man I am telling you I could feel the changing location of strain in my eye/forehead area right away. My sense of direction, or I should say distance, and my sense of balance was immediately altered. How big a room looked before, and how small after....I was a little bit scared to be honest. Some of the thoughts I had were: are my eyes this bad? did I always have a dizzy issue? Oh, that was not a good rabbit hole. They told me to wear them in general for a couple of days to break them in.

Day 1 of breaking them was a little rough. I am hoping its short term pain for long term positive gain. Day 2 was a little bit better, so some hope there. Day 2 is much better than Day 1, and Day 3 is better.

“3 Days For The World To Turn Right Side Up Again” (There is a great Bones episode that shows this. More info here: https://gizmodo.com/does-your-brain-really-have-the-power-to-see-the-world-5905180)

Aside from the “breaking the shoe in” phase, how are things? Having had mental pain for, most of the last 20 years-I have learned to live with the weight of the mental pain. There is a weight to it, while that doesn't seem to make much sense. Since getting the glasses, there is less mental pain weight and its really weird to get used to. It is a good thing so far, but it is also longer than I would of thought for the rewiring process. My “idea” of what is close and what is not, and my eyes being reworked is almost constant? It so far is different, more good than bad. Shocking, like really-what the heck is happening by me just wearing glasses? Like I should understand this because I have lived with it and researched it, but as I experience it-it confounds me.

#rant #pixabay #health #neurolens #annual eye exam #brea optometry #costco vision center #insurance #vsp #storytime #orange county #chronic non-nauseating migraines #background #research #reality #google #youtube

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nordleuchten · 3 years

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La Fayette in Prison - Part 4.2 - Adrienne in Paris

After six months the dreaded news came. Adrienne was to be transferred to Paris. Virginie wrote:

My mother arrived in Paris on the 19th of Prairial, the eve of the fete de l'Étre supréme, three days before the decree of the 22nd, which organized une terreur dans la Terreur. At that time, no less than sixty people were daily falling victims of the Revolutionary Tribunal. All seemed to forebode approaching death to my mother.

Her children were allowed to visit her one last time and her oldest daughter, Anastasie, argued and pleaded with the guards that she was old enough to be taken with her mother to Paris, that she was an adult and guilty of the same “crimes” as her mother. Anastasie was fifteen at this point in time and the guard refused her, although they were visibly touched by her plea.

Frestel, well aware of the imminent danger, wrote Morris in Paris and informed him about the situation. Morris lost no time and immediately demanded Robespierre himself to release Adrienne - he was ignored. Morris had previously been quite open about this dislike for the revolution and was therefore not really welcomed. He however made it very, very, very clear, that the Americans were quite attached to La Fayette and his whole family and that if, should anything happen to Adrienne or the children, this could quite possible be the final straw for the Americans. He said, and I paraphrase here, Morris himself was a tad more diplomatic, “Our rebellion against England started with a trade boycott. America is one of the last countries that still trades with France. The American government is and will remain neutral, but if something were to happen to Adrienne or her children and the American people start boycotting French goods, well, what is the government supposed to do?” After that, Morris was even more hated by the Jacobins but his initiative proofed to be successful. Adrienne remained in prison but it was made clear that she should not be executed. Americas neutrality was nothing that France could afford to lose.

Frestel had furthermore collected all the jewellery that still reminded in Chavaniac and sold most of it, so that Adrienne would have money while in prison. A number of the servants even gave some of their own money to Adrienne (have I mentioned how great and loyal and amazing the servants were?).

Adriennes mother, the duchess d’Ayen, her sister, the vicomtesse de Noailles and her grandmother, the duchess de Noailles were all executed early in July of 1794. Her mother and sister had fled to safety in Switzerland but decided to return to France to nurse Adrienne’s dying grandfather. After his death, the three women were arrested. Virginie wrote concerning their arrests:

My grand mother and my aunt de Noailles, who had remained along time at Saint - Germain, to take care of the Maréchal de Noailles in his old age, returned to Paris after his death, anxious to attend once more to their religious duties. They were, soon after their return, put under arrest in their own house, at the Hôtel de Noailles. The danger of their situation filled my mother's mind with terror and absorbed all her thoughts.

They died on the same day. Their local priest was able to get close enough to them to give them the absolution. He later noted that the two duchesses at least were content with their fate because they would both die before their child. On the day of the execution, the duchess de Noailles was the first to be guillotined, followed by her daughter, the duchess d’Ayen who in her turn was followed by her daughter, the vicomtesse de Noailles. A parent should not outlive their child.

I can not imagine what Adrienne must have felt as she received the news. All her live she had been extremely close with her mother and her older sister Louise. She furthermore could never be completely certain that she were not to follow her family members to the guillotine. Her American connections kept her safe for the time being, but that could change quickly.

The downfall of Robespierre and the Committee of Public Safety was Adrienne’s salvation. More moderate forces took over the reign of government and less and less people were executed. Adrienne however was still in prison - and she did not know why. James Monroe, a close and dear friend of La Fayette had just taken over as ambassador from Morris and getting Adrienne out of prison was one of his top priorities. He could not risk a diplomatic misstep in his affair and he therefor did something very clever - he asked his wife Elizabeth Monroe if she would like to visit Adrienne. Elizabeth naturally agreed and soon the Monroe couple visited Adrienne on a regular basis and brought her all sorts of things she might need in prison. Their visits served two purposes (beside cheering poor Adrienne up). They made it clear that America was still very invested in the wellbeing of Adrienne and her family. They also kept Adrienne in the spotlight because it almost seemed as if the new government had simply forgotten that she was still imprisoned - and still without any reasonable charges. Adrienne wrote Monroe on October 3, 1794:

It is likely that I will be the last to leave this place. I believe that the threat of execution is subsiding and if hope persists, there is no danger for me, as I have not the least reason to be held. But the situation of my children so far away from me adds to the sorrow that will follow me to my grave. These cruel anxieties and this kind of torment not being completely without remedy, I beg you to ease my cares by allowing me a moment of conversation with a man who should have your full confidence. Nothing is easier than what I am asking you, and I cannot believe that you would refuse me. (…)I truly need you to look after the interest of my dear children from whom I have been torn apart. It isn’t too much I think after a two-month confinement in the same place, to ask for the consoling confirmation that I have some right to hope for my liberation at the moment of their arrival. You see, my dear sir, that I assume no pride in this because I sense that you have already enough assurances of my appreciation that I am ready for you to undertake new responsibilities. But, I am accustomed to remaining silent when I am not allowed to express openly what I feel. Pardon the candor with which I express myself to you; and doubt not that not only what the United States and its minister has done for me, but what they have willingly attempted to do for me, has instilled in me a very sincere appreciation.

There are many letters between Monroe and Adrienne, a few letters between Adrienne and Washington and only one letter between Adrienne and La Fayette (that I know of). Monroe did not only aided Adrienne in obtaining her release but he also helped her further with her finances and to take care of several relatives and former employees. Here is just one of the many, many examples. Adrienne wrote to Monroe in an undated letter (in all likelihood November 1794):

I cannot finish without recommending again to the kindnesses of the American minister, Mr Mercier, a servant who has served me for seventeen years with fidelity and zeal, and who has also run risks for me and shared with me a month in prison. He has a position at this moment, but I cannot bear the idea that he would suffer poverty. And I need to hope that he will not be abandoned by the United States. A very poor family whose son is the victim with my husband also has sacred claims to their kindness, the father, the mother and five children will be furnished of what aid that will relieve them.

Adrienne was not in a great position herself, but she constantly thought of others.

After a grand total of sixteen months in prison, Adrienne was finally released. Her immediate aim was to get her son and his tutor Frestel to the safe shores of America. She first re-purchased Chavaniac from the government so that Louise Charlotte and her children had a safe place to stay. She also argued with the government that she was eligible to inherit her mother’s properties - they eventually agreed with her. Monroe in the meantime had “found” an American passport for Georges. (Let me know if you all are interested in a separate post about Georges time and reception in America).

Adrienne and her daughters travelled to Austria, there to argue for La Fayette’s release - and that is exactly where we continue next time, with La Fayette’s stay in the infamous Olmütz prison.

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izukuwus · 4 years

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Floriography 4

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A/N: DID Y’ALL THINK THE PRO GAMER MOVE WAS A NORMAL UPDATE? PSYCHE! DOUBLE UPDATE TIME! I’ll hopefully end up with a banner for this fic I actually like soon so I can start using that instead. It’s slow going, but I’m toying with a few ideas. In the meantime, a precious fantasy Izu gif will have to do uwu The most important part is that I named both kingdoms now <3

Chapter Summary: Day one of the trip. It Begins.

Warnings: none, I don’t think!

Word count: 3600+

"That was very courageous of you," a voice greets you as you take a moment to breathe, "though I have to say that, were I anyone else, I'd be terrified for you right now."

Your eyes snap to the voice's source, not finding a servant like you'd sort of been expecting. Instead, Queen Inko herself stands before you, looking you over with concerned eyes.

"I can lead you back to where your party is preparing if you'd like, dear. You were probably planning to seek out Izuku again, but it's best that you save your energy, and I'd like to speak with you, if that's all right."

"Oh, um, yes, I'd like that. Thank you, your Majesty." You're careful to soothe yourself back into Proper Mode™ as you speak. "I... apologize that you've overheard me acting so disgraceful. To your husband, no less."

"You don't need to apologize, Princess. Not to me or to anyone, regardless of what my husband thinks. I actually wanted to apologize for his behavior. I know my husband can be a bit... demanding."

You nod. "You don't need to apologize to me, ma'am."

"Please, call me Inko. You're going to be like my daughter soon enough, there's no need to be so formal with me when we're alone."

"R-right. Of course... Inko... Y-you can call me by my name as well, not that you needed my permission."

Moons, she's such a stark contrast to her husband that you have to wonder how they ever married. This woman has the sweetest, kindest smiles and looks so much like her son that you have to relax around her.

"That's kind of you, [name]. Have you been getting on well with Izuku?"

You nod slowly. "Yes, I have. We write each other letters every day, and he's been very sweet to me. Of all the men my parents could have chosen to force me to marry, I'm glad it was him."

Inko smiles sweetly. She doesn’t seem to pay any mind to your comment about your coming marriage. "I'm glad to hear that, dear."

"Um... Inko, you're... A seer, correct?"

"That's right. You're wondering why I told my husband that you would make our son into a more... ruthless king, as it were?"

"Yes, actually. As I'm sure you must have heard me say, I want no part in changing my fiancé, especially not in a way that he begins treating others poorly or exerts excessive power. He wouldn't be Izuku anymore."

"Hisashi and I happen to have... Differing opinions on what makes someone a good king."

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. "So you didn't lie, but you also forewent the truth."

"I told him Izuku would be a wonderful king with you by his side. I did not tell him by whose standards. That's all." Inko smiles softly–every time she does, you swear you can see Izuku in her smile. "I’ve always known that no matter what, my son would go on to do wonderful things. But listen to me carry on—you and the others should be off soon. Thank you for chatting with me, dear."

You curtsy lightly, the movement almost uncomfortably easy in your travel clothes compared to what you’ve grown used to. "Thank you for helping me find my way back, Inko. It was a pleasure speaking with you."

She waves you off with a smile, and you scamper up to Izuku and the knights. "My apologies for the wait."

"It's not an issue, your Highness," Eijirou says, beaming. "We've just finished up the final preparations, so we're ready to go whenever!"

"Great! We should leave early, yes?"

Izuku nods as he approaches. "If you're ready, then we're all set to set off!"

You nod your affirmation, following as the group sets out. The knights are careful to center you and Izuku, and it doesn't take long for Izuku to strike up a conversation. "So, how did your talk with my father go, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Oh, I don't mind!" you chirp. "Actually, I–" You freeze, nearly stumbling as the realization of what you just did finally sinks in properly. "–oh moons, your father is going to have me killed–"

"Woah, what?" Izuku carefully steadies you before you can hit the ground. "A-are you alright? You're white as a sheet all of the sudden."

"It's a little embarrassing to admit, but..." You chew the inside of your lip. You don't want to tell Izuku what his father thinks of him—if he's anything like your own father, Izuku probably already knows, but... "I… I may have, um..." You wring your hands together as you search for the words to convey exactly just how much you’ve messed up.

"My father always did say I needed to learn my place and I think perhaps allowing myself to get properly mad and tell King Hisashi that I wouldn't ever require his approval on how I carried myself as a wife or eventually as queen might be considered strictly within the realm of 'not acting within my place'." Your lips press into a thin smile, eyes blank as you begin to truly comprehend your fate.

Eijirou, walking on the other side of you as protection, promptly bursts into laughter, clutching his sides.

"H-hey!" you squeak. "Don't laugh at me, Ei! Have you no loyalty? I just told the Demon King of Elysia that he had no authority to tell me how I would treat his son!"

"Oh, trust me, your Highness, I'm plenty loyal, but this is easily the funniest thing you've done, maybe ever."

"I'm going to die,” you whine. “His Majesty is going to kill me, and then because I didn't come back from the trip, my father's going to have Izuku killed, and then King Hisashi will declare war against Flumeria and I'm going to go down in history as the princess who single-handedly kicked off a hundred years of war and ended two lines of royal succession, eventually resulting in the destabilization of the continent as nearby kingdoms battle to claim the land and the deaths of countless.”

"You're probably not going to be killed," Izuku reassures you gently. "At least my father has two weeks to cool down before he does anything rash?"

The fact that it’s a question, rather than a statement, doesn’t reassure you at all. "Two weeks to plot my very public assassination." You drop your head into your hands. "Two weeks to get all my affairs in order. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but perhaps my father was right."

"I don't think you'll be assassinated!" Izuku's hand rests on your shoulder in a meek attempt to comfort you. "We don't even have any royal assassins!"

"So I'm not even going to be killed by a professional? The disrespect..."

His hand smooths over your back slowly. "Seriously, you'll be fine. I'm not about to let my dad kill you before I get to see you in your wedding gown."

You freeze, face going red in record time. "O-oh, that’s comforting.”

Izuku either doesn't notice or blessedly chooses to ignore just how effective his casual comment was on you. Instead, he changes the subject. Soon, you're falling into a rhythm, walking along while talking with Izuku and the knights. It's casual, fun even. Privately, you even think that maybe you could get used to this lifestyle.

When you stop to rest and eat a light lunch, you're utterly exhausted. Come to think of it, you don't recall the last time you properly sweat like this. It's midsummer, and moons can you feel the heat. With a wave of your hand, you're quick to remove the layer of sweat sticking to your skin as you rest in the shade of a tree.

Eijirou approaches, holding out a flask that you gratefully accept. "Are you holding up okay, your highness?" he asks as you gulp down the proffered water.

You nod when you pause to catch your breath. "Yes, I think so. It's a little embarrassing how unused to exercise I am."

He takes a seat beside you, resting an arm on one bent knee as he grins. "Nah, it's to be expected, given you aren't exactly allowed to spend your time like this normally. You're doing great so far, just be sure to keep drinking water. His Majesty will have me hanged if I let you suffer a heat stroke out here."

Thumbing the side of the flask, you giggle at his comment. "Thank you, Ei. How do you find the other knights accompanying us?"

"Oh, they're great, your highness! Super manly, too. I'm hoping I can learn a few things from them while we're out here. King Hisashi is really strict with the knights he allows to join these trips, so I'm sure they can teach me a few new tricks!"

"Well," you start, returning the flask with a wry grin, "in the interest of 'owning my responsibility', as my dear father puts it, try not to get too carried away learning new tricks."

"Of course, your Highness! I wouldn't dream of doing something that would let you get hurt."

"Speaking of getting carried away, Princess..." The hilt of a wooden sword hovers in your field of vision. You follow it to its source to find Izuku holding it out to you, one hand behind his back as he grins. "If you're feeling refreshed, I'd be happy to assess where you are in your swordplay and begin teaching you properly."

You reach up with a grin, taking the hilt in one hand. He doesn't let go of the "blade", instead planting his feet and pulling you up to yours. "Let's start by seeing where you are. Show me your stance like you're going to fight against that tree."

You nod, placing both hands on the hilt of the sword and shifting into an approximation of a combat stance, your feet planted. Izuku nods after a minute, stepping up and gently re-adjusting you. "You need to be lighter on your feet, and loosen up your stance. In a sword fight, mobility is everything. You want to be able to turn on your feet easily so you can dodge if your opponent makes a move and counter them, but we’ll get to that later. Ideally, you’d have a shield, but for now it’s best that you just get used to the training sword.”

You hum as you let him adjust your stance. "What should I do with my other hand in the meantime?"

"Keep it tucked away whenever you don't have a shield; you don't want your opponent to go for your other arm."

The rest of your lunch break is spent under Izuku’s teaching gaze and guiding hands as he teaches you the very basics of a sword-fighting stance. Before too long, your group sets out again. There’s plenty more walking ahead of you still.

Travelling is hard. Izuku makes it easier, you think—when you're being asked a million questions about how you train your runic abilities and how you manage to execute an idea so effortlessly with your magic, it's hard to think about how your feet ache, how you're thirsty and tired and keep having to magic your own sweat off you so you don't feel sticky and gross. By the end of the first day of travel, you've come to love the sound of his voice as a distraction from thinking so damn much.

You almost consider sitting directly in the dirt when it's finally proposed that you all set up camp for the night to sleep. Laying in it, even. Your mother would be scandalized if she could hear how you're thinking. A wave of your hand removes another layer of sweat, and you eventually give in and sit down with a thump.

You nearly slump into the dirt as you catch your breath. Around you, the knights and Izuku are busily setting up camp. The firewood being collected is piled nearby, and you watch for a long moment before moving to heave yourself back to your feet. "I'm not sure how I can help," you admit. "This is my first time even being outside for so long."

"We need a clear area with no plants or grass to build the fire on," one of the knights says. "But I'm not sure how I feel about asking you to..."

"If it's simply a matter of me not knowing how to prepare the area correctly, I understand, but please don't try to prevent me from helping simply because of my station. I'm not here simply to make your jobs more difficult."

A knight—a woman knight, no less—crouches beside you, offering a container of water with a kind smile. You accept it gratefully. "If you'd like, your Highness, I can show you how we normally set up the fire tonight, and once you've learned how to do it, we can assign that as your job for the rest of the nights that we camp outdoors."

You nod, sighing in relief at the cold water washing down your throat. "I would appreciate that, miss knight. Do you mind if I ask several questions? I'm afraid I'm not exactly educated on matters like these."

"Not at all, your Highness. Ask as many questions as you'd like."

"Well..." You falter immediately. What if the question on your mind is actually really stupid? It wouldn't do to embarrass yourself so heavily, but... "What is the point of setting up a fire when it's already so hot out?"

She gives you a kind smile as she clears away some leaves and twigs from the dirt. "It may be summertime, but we still need to cook our meal for the night, and the smoke from the flames drives away insects that may bite or sting us while we rest. There's plenty of uses for the fire that have nothing to do with its warmth, though you may find it gets much colder once it's dark."

You nod, watching her as she flattens a palm against the dirt. "I see! It's a little embarrassing to admit, but I hadn't thought about the fact that we'd be taking care of our own meals while out here."

"All of this must be very new to you, your Highness."

"Regrettably, yes. I'm afraid the rules I've grown up under have led me to a very sheltered worldview."

"Well, that's the point of these trips, I imagine. His Highness has been making excursions like this for a few years now, and while he does get to speak to the leaders of towns and cities under his rule, I think it's more useful that he learns about life outside the palace. You can't learn humanity if you spend every day amid stone walls." Stones begin to rise up from the ground, accompanied by the distinct scent of a library. Once she's collected a pile of them, he directs her runes to draw a large circle in the dirt.

You contemplate her words as you watch her work, taking careful mental notes on what she's doing.

"We need to create a ring of stones to make the fire in, about the size of the circle I've just drawn," she explains. "If you'd like, your Highness, you can get started on arranging the stones while I collect some of the wood for the fire."

You nod, turning your attention to the pile and grabbing the first rock to set down on the ring drawn for you. It's easy work, but you take it seriously right up until you reach for the last rock and are greeted with a blast of heat that causes you to yelp and pull your hand back.

You retrace the scent of gunpowder to its source—the knight Kacchan, who typically stays by Izuku's side. He's leaned up against a tree, glaring at you with crossed arms. "Pay more attention."

You glare, affronted. "Excuse me?"

He points at the rock you'd been about to grab, where some... creature with far too many legs now lays dead. "That thing can't cause any serious health issues, but I doubt you would have been very happy with the pain its bite puts you in. Highness."

You brush it away with your runes, not wishing to touch it bare-handed. "Well, thank you for assisting me. If I hadn't known better I'd have thought you were attacking me, though."

He clicks his tongue, turning burning red eyes away from you. Is he not going to help? It looks like he just set up a pair of tents and then decided to kick back and watch you set rings around a fire.

"Is there something you need to be doing, or...?"

"It'd be stupid of us to leave you without one person watching you at all times. You're not used to being outside as it is, and if someone tries some strange magic on you, someone has to be there to save you from getting killed. Or bit by one of the most painful centipedes in Elysia because her Highness can't pay attention."

You try not to let show just how irritating his comments are. Instead, you get back to work on arranging your rocks just in time for Momo's return.

She continues to walk you through the process—you wave a hand to take notes as she teaches you the different types of firewood, things you shouldn't do, and so on. Before long, you have a pretty decent fire set up, with the help of some magic, and the other knights have returned from their various duties. Still only two tents are set up, and honestly, you're a little afraid to question it.

You do anyway.

"Why are there only two tents, if you don't mind my asking? Surely those two aren't large enough to house everyone for the night."

A broad-shouldered night with dark hair answers your query, waving his hands about as he speaks. "The knights will be resting outside the tents, your Highness! It's not proper for a lady to share such close sleeping quarters with a man she is not yet married to, and it would be unseemly for you to change where anyone could see you. To keep carrying burdens low, only our more royal travelers will be sleeping in tents."

You frown. "I see. Thank you for your explanation, sir..."

"Ah! My sincerest apologies, your Highness. I am Tenya of the Iida family. We have a long lineage of successfully keeping royalty, such as yourself, safe. It was dishonorable of me not to introduce myself sooner, ma'am."

"Oh, you needn't worry yourself so, Sir Tenya. I've taken no offense." Besides, it's not as if anyone could offend you next to Kacchan's attitude towards you and seemingly everything in existence. "Though, I am a little worried at the prospect of all of you sleeping outdoors with no covering. Aren't we at risk of animals or attack?"

"Only slightly more so than the protection a tent affords, your Highness. All of us will be cycling through staying awake for part of the night and staying on guard against that very threat. The weather is a greater threat than any person or animal could be to you, ma'am."

"The weather?"

"Yes. If it rains, even in the heat of summer, it could cause someone's body temperature to drop to dangerous rates if we can't find a place where we can start a fire."

You hum, making a mental note of the information. As the meal carries on and things are handled, you continue to ask questions and receive answers, and before long, you're retiring for the night, more than grateful to finally, finally lay down and get some rest.

Successfully dressed in your nightclothes, you're greeted with the scent of peaches and lemongrass for only a moment before a folded letter lands in front of you, accompanied by a single yellow lily.

You can't help but smile. He sent me a letter when I'm sleeping only a tent away?

As you lay down to sleep, you call forth just enough runes to light your tent for reading. They float overhead, casting a gentle glow as you twirl the lily between two fingers.

My Highness,

Being able to travel with you today and truly speak was a gift. The lily is a thank you for accompanying me on this trip—the long treks are much more enjoyable with you at my side. I know these are all things I could have said to you in person for once, but honestly, [name], I find it easier to sleep when I have written to you. I hope you'll forgive that I don't recount to you the day's events in tonight's letter—I spent the day thinking about the beautiful princess walking at my side, so I have forgotten most of it.

It's said that, and my experiences and reading have both confirmed, one cannot smell their own magic at work. In a literal sense, this makes me slightly sad for you—will you truly never be able to smell the scent of fresh bread and warm vanilla when you work with your runes? Your runes, your soul smells like home in a way you and I have not known, and I pity everyone who will not get to spend their lives smelling it. I imagine love smells quite like the air around you—warm, safe, and inviting.

I hope you rest well and dream of me.

Your Prince,

Izuku

The letter is safely tucked away in your bag, the lily rested on the opposite side of the tent so you don't accidentally crush it. With a few waves of your hand, you acquire the paper necessary to pen the morning's response and rest it next to the lily, to be dealt with in the morning.

For now, you dismiss your light and fall into sleep. Tomorrow is another exhausting day.

Tags: @tooloudarts @sapid-rose @xxangelpridexx @birds-have-teeth @icythotsenpai @warmchoccymilk @wesparklebitch @izoodles @fujimoribaby @my-bnha-things @denise-the-death-goddess @themerpenguin @dragonempress123 @imabootywarrior @the-secret-thief @venusianpink @chickynn @lianatriestosurvive @frog-face-wolfhard @akariblue

#midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha x reader #deku x reader #mha x reader #my fics #bnha fantasy au #prince!izuku

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you-cant-spell-subtext-without · 3 years

Text

I know we are all discussing the latest episode of Season 16, but I need to wrap up 11 for my own sanity (because there is a LOT to discuss in my Season 12 rewatch already), so without further ado - more rambling for you.

I’m not going to include 11x20: Don’t Call Me Shurley because I think I’d like to do an entire Chuck - arc - series. Rob Benedict is a gift; that dad mug kills; and I love that the fan theories about Chuck spinning around this fandom for years turned out to be correct after all (WEIRD HOW THAT HAPPENS WITH CHARACTERS EH). Moving on.

As you will recall, two recaps and many many many crackhead other posts from my corner of super hell ago, I ended the 11x18 recap with this image of Amara realizing...”something” after Dean said Cas’s name (just before she took Casifer with her), Dean/Amara unbreakable connection be damned. Speaking of unbreakable connection this post is partially the AMARA DISSERTATION. Buckle up.

FF to 11x21: All in the Family; the boys are shooting the shit with Chuck and in the meantime, Amara is torturing Casifer. Important to note that just recently the actual Cas was enlightened that Dean wants him to cast Lucifer out, so I presume he is a little more active at this point, and that strengthens the following hypothesis. Look how Amara is looking at Casifer here:

And here, right before she touches him on the chest.

It’s the same look she gave Dean. She’s trying to decipher something; trying to figure something out.

She appears to Dean in the VERY next scene, to show him how she is torturing Casifer. But the real point is, of course, to show him how its affecting the physical form of Cas, reminding him its not just Lucifer who is suffering. It works.

DEAN

Amara is – she's in my head. [Sam looks at him sharply] Hey, I didn't ask for it, okay? She just showed up. But she's showing me visions of – of Lucifer. By Lucifer, I mean Cas, and he looks like crap – like she's really doing a number on him.

***Note, yet again, despite the *connection* Amara/Dean supposedly share, all he can think about and talk about is Cas.

And Amara knows it. That’s the realization she has in 11x18. Dean loves Cas. Then, in 11x21 she realizes Cas loves Dean. So, she uses it to her own ends. Smart girl.

Enter Donatello (I love him), prophet of (not) the Lord. He, Metatron, and Sam set out to rescue Casifer while Dean distracts Amara. If we start with the presumption she now has the prior additional insight, the following snippets of dialogue hit a little different.

AMARA

This place, this world hasn't been especially easy for you. Why not at least consider my offer?

*********

DEAN

You're right. I am drawn to you. And it bothers the hell out of me, 'cause I can't control it.

AMARA

Then why fight it? What you're feeling is that I am the end of your struggle.

***AHEM, this was not the FACE CUPPING I requested.

What keeps Dean from having it all? What is his struggle? It’s not the monsters or the hunting. ��Dean’s repeatedly shown he loves this life; he doesn't want anything else (and the one time he did try it in Season 6, it was half-ass at best, and he left the minute Sam returned to go back to hunting). Dean’s KEY struggle in the show is internal. He represses his feelings, pushes his pain aside, resulting in a cycle of self-loathing and anger. That cycle keeps him from having it all - accepting he can be loved, allowing himself to give his heart to someone else. And at this point, Amara not only knows that someone else is Cas, she knows that Cas feels the same way. Girl, welcome to super hell. Take a damn seat by Sam.

11x22: We Happy Few

I’ll skim through this one so this post doesn’t completely make your eyes bleed due to the sheer length.

The splicing with the scenes of everyone assembling different factions to form the new “line-up” needed to trap Amara is excellent. I’ve already done a short post on the brilliance of Dean heading to get Crowley and the ex-boyfriend mood of it all (Dean, of all people, telling Crowley to sober up gives me an ENTIRE head canon of the Crowley/demon!Dean unseen dynamic in Season 10). And of COURSE Dean knows exactly what to say to convince Crowley to get on board. I also enjoy our future Sam-witch as the emissary to Rowena (”three’s a coven” would be a great tattoo, TBH).

BONUS:

I love her.

Big fight scene with Amara ensues, but this isn’t the finale so she cannot be beaten. However, right before she mortally wounds Chuck, she does this:

[Yelling, LUCIFER charges her from behind again, but AMARA flings him hard against a support pillar across the room.]

AMARA

Goodbye, nephew.

[She banishes LUCIFER. CASTIEL slumps unconscious to the floor.]

DEAN: Cas!

(He rushes AMARA, but she flings him away without effort.)

***She banishes Lucifer. She could have just killed him. Ended him entirely, and Cas along with him. But she BANISHES LUCIFER. Because of what she learned in the prior episode. Because of the pain she saw in both of those idiots.

She does this for Dean.

Anyway, thank you Casifer FOR YOUR SERVICE. I miss you already.

11x23: Alpha and Omega

There is nothing more precious than Dean sending his brother to check on GOD while he goes to check on his boyfriend:

DEAN: [Grunting]

Check on him.

SAM: [kneels next to Chuck]

Hey. Chuck?

[Dean kneels down next to Cas and puts a hand on his shoulder. Cas stirs and looks up at Dean]

CAS:

Dean.

DEAN:

Cas? Hey, is that you?

***All the heart eyes for the reunion!!

*********ALSO SHOULDERRRRRRRR

Chuck is dying, Rowena bonds with him. Crowley is gold in this finale. I MISS YOU MARK. This line is NOT in the transcript/script I used, and it potentially being ad libbed makes it even better.

Dean decides to deal with the end of the world by drinking ONE beer, then deciding there is “not enough” beer and grabbing Cas for a beer (and....*feelings*) run.

DEAN:

You know what? This isn't gonna be enough. I better make a run.

[Sighs]

No reason to die sober, huh?

[to Sam]

You want to?

SAM: [frustrated]

No!

*********************

DEAN:

Be right back.

SAM:

I'll stay here, find our Plan B.

DEAN:

Okay. Cas, come on.

Nothing makes me more pleased than the assumption that of COURSE Cas is coming with him. I mean, he just got him back. Also, Sam is frustrated because he is back in super hell, obvi ;)

***Now we have the little “you’re our brother” bit in the Impala beer run dialogue, but to me it’s because Dean doesn’t know how else to express what he’s feeling. Repression, people.

The look of literal PAIN on Cas’s face at the “brother” line makes me cackle. Misha Collins DESERVES AN EMMY; he is doing the Lord’s work with his Acting Choices here.

This little part before is what really gets me though, especially with all of the WORDS OF AFFIRMATION:

[Dean and Cas are driving in the Impala]

DEAN:

How you doing? You good?

I mean, you know, the whole Lucifer thing.

CAS:

I was just... so stupid.

DEAN:

No, no, no. It wasn't stupid.

You were right. You were right to let Lucifer ride shotgun.

Me and Sam wouldn't have done that.

CAS:

Well, it didn't work.

DEAN:

No, but it was our best shot, and you stepped up.

CAS:

I was just trying to help.

DEAN:

Well, and you do help, Cas.

***ITS JUST SO LOVELY. Dean asking Cas how he is doing (what Cas always asks Dean); telling Cas he wasn’t stupid (throwback to Cas telling Dean he was stupid “for the right reasons”); acknowledging that Cas does HELP. That he is important and appreciated. THIS IS SUCH GROWTH. I LOVE IT SO MUCH. Speak his love language, King.

Anyway, then Dean turns into a human bomb because martyr!dean gonna martyr and be “daddy’s (Chuck filling that role here) blunt little weapon” and we get -

THE DESTIEL GOODBYE. Tell me they didn’t actually go canon for the FIRST time here. I will fight you.

LOOK at Cas watching him in the background.

These fucking desolate eyes. I’m crying.

THEY JUST GOT EACH OTHER BACK -

(I recognize this .gif is meh quality but I love that he turns and walks to him and Cas just GRABS him in this crushing hug)

DEAN [accepts the hug good-naturedly but then looks sad]

Okay, okay.

***”good naturedly??? ok Jensen “Acting Choices” Ackles. That is not “good nature” that is BLISS.

AND THEN THIS -

SOBS IN ENOCHIAN.

***I literally had to remind myself that the reunion hug is coming; it’s just an episode away. I’ll make y’all feel better too; here it is - A PERFECT PARALLEL. Curse this show.

MORE OF THIS “GOOD NATURED” HUGGING PLEASE.

Anyways, back to depressing subtext.

DEAN:

Okay, look. I want a big funeral.

All right? I'm talking epic.

Okay? Open bar, choir, Sabbath cover band, and Gary Busey reading the eulogy.

*****This scene lives in my mind rent-free as PROOF 15x20 doesn’t exist.

I can’t skip over further growth in Dean’s goodbye to Sammy.

***He’s being serious. Seasons 1-3 Dean would never have admitted this. I was a blubbering mess at this point.

So, Dean heads to Amara, and the rest of the gang heads to the bar.

CROWLEY:

Your round, Moose.

***I would love an entire bottle episode of Crowley, Sam, Rowena, and Chuck at that bar TBH.

And then, Dean saves the day. BUT NOT by dying and sacrificing himself, letting himself be used as a weapon of mass destruction. No, he fixes the DAMN WORLD by connecting to Amara emotionally, and bringing her and Chuck back together, because he understands that not to be alone is what she really needs; that her own struggle is the same as his - letting in love instead of raging against it and fighting her own need for companionship. Because that’s where ELDEST SIBLING AMARA AND Dean Winchester CONNECT. Amara isn’t in love with Dean. She identifies with Dean. She sees her own feelings in him, her own pain, and that’s why she exorcises Lucifer and saves Cas - FOR Dean. Amara’s just a Dean girl, everyone. And we know Dean girls protect Cas at all costs.

Yup. Amara Dean Girl Darkness Heller.

That’s it. That’s the dissertation.

See you in Season 12, where I will attempt to figure out the reason behind the British Men of Letters, killing Hitler, the brain melt that is Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox, the comedy of errors that is Cas playing Dean hot and cold, and the Mary Winchester of it all.

#destiel #spn analysis #spn meta #supernatural #spn family #spn fandom #spn season 11 #amara #spn recap #dean winchester

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samtheflamingomain · 3 years

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more like the hypocratic oath

Fuck the Hippocratic Oath.

I've always loved to memorize things from a young age. I'm 26, and I still see the same doctor that saw my mother 10 years before my birth. So I've spent a LOT of time in her waiting room, unchanged for decades. She has a weird obsession with lighthouses. Also, a framed text of the Hippocratic Oath on the wall.

Being the only thing to read in the room, over the years, I kind of accidentally memorized it. It's shorter than most people think.

It's never really been useful. Whenever it would come up in conversation I'd sometimes say "did you know that 'First do no harm' isn't actually in the Oath?" but most people didn't believe me. I didn't really care. It never came up, and it was never really important.

But this week alone I've read 6 references to the Oath in the news, had 3 conversations about it, and had to nope out of countless Reddit threads, all along these same lines:

"Why can't we lower the priority of anti-vaxxers who need to be in the ICU?" The Hippocratic Oath, of course! First, do no harm. Second, triage according to whoever needs the most care the most urgently. Third, forget the first two because neither of those things, not even in sentiment, are in the Oath.

There's a LOT of people who seem to have been indoctrinated into following a dogma they don't even know the contents of. They hear "Hippocratic Oath" and instantly think "First, do no harm" and then stop there. Because we think we know the gist. "Don't wield your power of being a doctor to become an evil monster." You should be right, but you're not.

If we're going to argue medical ethics, let's see what this amazing oath is really all about.

It starts out pretty normal. Swearing to Apollo. "[A]nd Asclepius, by Hygieia, by Panacea, and by all the gods and goddesses". Normal stuff. Oh, your doctor doesn't believe in Apollo? Breaking the Oath.

But then we get to the good stuff. Y'know what's so important that the Hippocratic Oath decided to address it directly and by name? Abortion. As in, "I will not give to a woman a pessary to cause abortion". Forget what a pessary is, it's an ancient medical device. So, the entire profession of performing abortions? Breaking the Oath.

But hey, abortion's a touchy subject. What about something as neutral as kidney stones? Well, "I will not use the knife, not even, verily, on sufferers from [kidney]stone[s]". Weird how if I were to walk into an ER with a kidney stone the size of a kidney bean they'd cut it out. With a knife. Verily. Breaking the Oath.

It's not all bad or oddly specific. The last bit basically says "If I walk into your house, I won't abuse you, even if you're a slave." How kind! And lastly, patient confidentiality. The end.

...Except, the Oath was rewritten in 1964. It cut out the abortion and kidney stone bits and comes in the form of modern English. Since it's not too long and wordy like the original, here's the full text of the "modern" Hippocratic Oath: (I'm cutting the first and last lines that just say 'here's the oath' and 'that was the oath', emphasis is mine to talk about after.)

"I will respect the hard-won scientific gains of those physicians in whose steps I walk, and gladly share such knowledge as is mine with those who are to follow.

"I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures required, avoiding those twin traps of overtreatment and therapeutic nihilism.

"I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemist's drug.

"I will not be ashamed to say "I know not", nor will I fail to call in my colleagues when the skills of another are needed for a patient's recovery.

"I will respect the privacy of my patients, for their problems are not disclosed to me that the world may know. Most especially must I tread with care in matters of life and death. If it is given me to save a life, all thanks. But it may also be within my power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty. Above all, I must not play at God.

"I will remember that I do not treat a fever chart, a cancerous growth, but a sick human being, whose illness may affect the person's family and economic stability. My responsibility includes these related problems, if I am to care adequately for the sick.

"I will prevent disease whenever I can, for prevention is preferable to cure.

"I will remember that I remain a member of society, with special obligations to all my fellow human beings, those sound of mind and body as well as the infirm."

Let's work backwards. The last line I emphasized because I think it comes closest to being a good argument for why anti-vaxxers should be allowed to clog up our ICUs. Doctors have "special obligations" (which isn't specific enough for me) to all humans, even the "infirm". At a glance it seems like this says "Doctors have to help people who are well as well as those who are ill" but "sound of mind" really jumped out at me. To me, it is not of sound mind to be anti-vaccine. If "infirm" is the opposite of "sound of mind", then anti-vaxxers are entitled, like all humans, to whatever "special obligations" the doctors have. Like I said, I don't find that phrase specific enough for me to accept this as an argument, but it does come close. If we define "special obligations" as "the obligation to provide medical care", then yes, put all anti-vax Covid patients in the ICU. But "special obligations" could just as well mean "the obligation to put the needs of the many over the needs of the few", which is supported by the statement's previous allusion to being a member of society, in which case, kick those fuckers out on the street.

The second point I highlighted just because this was written by and for America, and somehow they remain the only developed nation where one's "economic stability" is absolutely never taken into consideration.

Finally, my big closer. Life and death. "If I manage to save a life, great, cool. But also sometimes I'm allowed to kill people. No, I will not elaborate".

But it has another meaning: "As a doctor, sometimes I will necessarily have to kill people." This is simply one of those times. I'm serious. If not now, when?

I highlighted the very first line because I think it sets the tone for the entire Oath, and because I believe that actively choosing to treat anti-vaxxers instead of people with "lesser" problems, that choosing to allocate ICUs to people who spit on your science is violating the directive to follow the "hard-won scientific gains of those physicians in whose steps I walk". I can't imagine a 1940s TB nurse being teleported to present day, informed about Covid, taking a look at our hospitals and saying "well done".

It's a good thing it doesn't actually say "do no harm", because the Oath itself has violated that directive. As Ontario's ICUs continue to rise, doctors continue to harm society because they think triage is part of the Oath. It's not. Stop pretending it's anything more than a contract you sign when you work at fuckin McDonalds and you promise not to make dumb Tik Toks at work. Every job has its moral standards. Doctors have one of the most ethically and morally difficult jobs on the planet, yet we treat medical ethics as a settled matter.

The original was written in 275AD. It was rewritten 60 years ago. Maybe let's not wait another millennium to fix this glaring problem that isn't going to go away. In the meantime, let's try and work from actual facts and not what we think we know. A tall order these days unfortunately.

Stay Greater, Flamingos.

#sam #hippocratic oath #covid #ethics #medical ethics

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lilyharvord · 4 years

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The Secret Correspondence of the Dancing War - Part 3

A/N: Part 3 of the accurate epilogue of Broken Throne because once again, Regina and I are bitter that Victoria did not give us the closure we want. This letter while burned to almost a crisp was saved by me and @elane-in-the-shadows. Part I / Part II

iii. Cal

December 10th 330

Maven,

It’s been a while since I wrote to you or visited you. I hope you don’t mind. Things have been busier these past few years. I honestly don’t remember the last time I got a full night’s rest. Even now, I’m writing to you at 3 in the morning because I can’t sleep. Mare’s going to kill me too. She already has a hard time sleeping because of the baby. She doesn’t waste time blaming me for that. Funny enough, I don’t mind her teasing about it. The fact that it is even happening makes me feel like I could make electricity myself.

Right, I should probably catch you up on what’s happened. To be honest, a lot of it is fuzzy for me. Since my promotion two years ago, I’ve spent more time on the front lines dealing with the Lakelanders than I have in my lifetime. Your ex-wfie is more of a pain in the ass than I ever thought possible. Like you, she’s a brilliant strategist. I think… given time you two might have found kindred spirits within each other. And while this whole dance between the States and the Lakelands has been exhausting, the good news is that Iris hasn’t had the chance to throw me in any more bays. Mare probably wouldn’t think that joke is funny, but I’m sure you will.

Anyway, four months ago Mare wrote to me telling me to ask for a leave of absence. That she needed me to come back to Montfort because it was urgent. It took more convincing than I would have liked to get that leave. Sometimes I miss being a prince, for the sole reason that if I needed something I didn’t have to wait for people to sit around debating about it, it was just done. But that’s beside the point. When I got back to Montfort, Mare had a, let’s just call it a surprise for me because I can’t think of anything else to call it. A gift? It certainly didn’t feel like it at first. I think all the blood drained from my face when she told me. We argued about it. It’s honestly the first fight we’ve had in a long time, but she won. She always does, as you know. I retired my uniform and she retired hers and we bought a little apartment near her parents’ town house. She wants them close when the baby is born. I get that. I would want my family there too. I wish you could be here. I think you’d be surprised how strong she already is. The other day Mare made me feel how hard she was kicking and it was one of the strangest things I’ve ever experienced. How can something so small kick that hard? She’s going to be a force of nature; I know she will be. Mare’s her mother after all. I can’t even begin to tell you how strange it is to write that. To think that in a few weeks she’s going to be here.

Mare agreed to let me name her, as long as she gets to name the next one. She had her fingers crossed for a boy. She wants to name any son we have after her brother. I think I’m going to name our daughter after my mother though. Coriane Barrow Calore sounds pretty doesn’t it? But I may just be biased.

At first, I wanted to drop my name and just keep Mare’s, but she insisted we keep both. Our family line is as much a part of my daughter’s legacy as it is mine. Removing our name would be like trying to erase the past. We’re trying to correct it though. I’d say so far we’re doing a decent job. Notra is on track finally, and Evangeline has been hard at work as an ambassador with both the Lakelands and Prairie. We’re both desperately trying to fix the mistakes our ancestors made.

And I guess I’m writing to you tonight because of that. I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep because all I can think about it that family name. Our father’s name, and ours. Looking back on everything, I realize now what you went through, what you must have felt like. I can’t sleep because I’m terrified of repeating our father’s mistakes. He made so many. I didn’t realize it until Mare told me she was pregnant and I started thinking about my own childhood. I’m terrified that I’ll somehow show my daughter that she doesn’t matter to me, that there is something or someone who comes before her. What if she sees what I do and what I am, and wants to follow in my footsteps? What if she does that because she feels like she has to? I don’t want her to struggle like I did. I don’t want her to think she is duty bound to a fate because of me or because of Mare. You would know what to say. You always knew exactly what to say.

And I guess I also was hoping you could… endow some of your speech ability on me to write another letter to the Silver Session. You handled them all so well as king, (better than I ever could have hoped too) and I wish I had half of your political sense, just because it would make my life so much easier. You always had such politic ways of telling people to go screw themselves. I need a way to say that right now that doesn’t turn a bunch of cranky, old, irritating silvers into more of a political threat.

By my colors I miss you. It comes at me like a wave sometimes. I’ll just be walking or sitting and then it’s there and I feel like I can’t breathe. You left a hole that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to close. The other night, I realized your birthday was coming up. You would have been 28 this year. I realized that while Mare and I were walking back from dinner. When she asked me why I got so quiet, I told her the truth. She was quiet for a long time too, then she asked me if we would tell our children about you. I don’t know if you want me to. Or which person I should talk about. A part of me didn’t believe the last thing you told me. I know that the boy who used to stay up until ungodly hours playing chess with me was in there somewhere. I know that the brother who used to joke with me and play along with my terrible lies I told to get out of trouble was in there. I know the young man that was braver than I ever could be was in there somewhere. I wish I could have found him. I wish I could have saved you. Maven I have never regretted anything more than the fact that I turned a blind eye to your suffering or what your mother did to you. Maybe you’d be here with me today if I hadn’t. Maybe you would get to hold your niece. Or maybe, maybe she wouldn’t even be here. To be honest, I don’t know. I learned a long time ago that playing the what if game just hurts more.

I hope you are at peace. I hope you are resting and that you somehow do get these letters. I hope you know that even at the end, you were my brother, and I loved you. I still do. I’ll come visit you soon, maybe after Coriane is born. Although I’ll probably be even busier then. I suppose I’ll just have to write in the meantime.

As always, your brother,

Cal

@elliemarchetti @farleydiana @scxrletguardsdawn @petergrantkavinsky @freaky-freiday @inopinion @mareshmallow @evangelineartemiasamos @evangeline-of-montfort @delilahlbard @king-maven-calore @whatsup-gorls @redqueenetwork

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ghostmartyr · 4 years

Note

(1/3)Hi, Immi! I’m sorry it will be a long-read, but I can’t keep it bottled anymore. When you say you feel tired about Historia’s situation I can easily relate because I feel the same, exhausted and irritated. It’s just exhausting to keep looking for some positive signs when it becomes more and more obvious that Isayama just made her irrelevant because she’d turn into an obstacle to his plot as an active character. I believe the main reason for him to not explain her situation is that he wasn't

(2/3)able to come up with logical reasons for Historia to follow Eren’s plan and to have a child so he just forced that into the plot. The same way Survey Corps guys just miraculously met Annie eating the pie. We don’t see Historia, her words and her thoughts because it’d destroy the flimsy screen Isayama have draped over her. ... The other Historia-related thing which bothers me a lot is that quite a lot of people argue – in relation to the pregnancy – that she isn’t exactly a lesbian.

(3/3)Like it’d somehow make everything better! They completely miss the point. Even if we’d replace Historia with a random 101% hetero girl she’d still have a kid with a person she doesn’t love, with a person who abused her during her childhood, and this child would be created ONLY to allow Eren to enact global genocide. Wow, what a great improvement! … I’m really sorry for being such an aggressive pessimist but I’m just tired of being optimistic for 25 months straight to no avail. I guess.

Yo.

Put politely, some of the things this particular plot point inspired people to say is why I do my level best to avoid the fandom outside of close friends. It was... not good.

For a quick note, since everything you said has been on my mind for over two years, and ah yes, how it festers:

Coercive sex has nothing to do with preference.

I’m bolding that because hell, did it need to be said when 107 dropped, and as far as I’m aware, it still needs to be said. Instead of people being upset and hurt, the conversation turned into how much of a right people even had to those feelings, because why ever would lack of consent bother someone unless they had a stake in an interpretation of canon.

But in any case, yeah. The fact that Historia’s sexuality became the debate topic it did after 107 is -- hell. I know why it came about, and I could draw a very neat logic tree, and honestly, some of it did come from legitimate places of grievance.

Watching fandom feed like locusts on the discussion of what type of queer had been trapped in a dubiously consensual sexual relationship was still painful. Watching her entire relationship with Ymir be invalidated every other post, when that had limited relevance, was a twist to the knife.

We have a character whose arc revolves around finding herself and reclaiming her agency. The very next arc she is a participant in cheats her out of that agency. She’s nineteen, and everyone around her might not actively pressure her to breed children, but the situation is outlined so that she knows if she doesn’t, everyone will suffer.

This character has routinely protected children, and knows the suffering of being born unwanted.

It’s a disgusting story, and it doesn’t even get to be her story. It exists to make Eren upset. As if he really needs help with that. And after two years, the only addition we have to her role is that she might have gone along with it to help global genocide happen.

I have been waiting for this story to explain itself for a while. Each month, it doesn’t. Each month, I very carefully do not shout to the rafters exactly what I feel about this, because I’ve chosen to wait and trust that the story is not actually being this stupid. Each month, it seems less and less likely that this is ever getting fixed, and I feel like an idiot for going along with it.

However much I think there’s room for a reveal, each month, we’re a tick closer to the end, and nothing crops up. My argument has always been that for something kept off the stage for so long, it’s going to stay off the stage until it’s ready to blow us away. Great, awesome, but in the meantime, by all appearances, one of our main characters agreed to get knocked up by a guy she doesn’t like with a child she doesn’t want for the sake of a global genocide she doesn’t support.

When our actual main character is murdering literally everyone on the planet over how intolerable he finds that practice.

This does not make sense. This does not work on a thematic level, it doesn’t work on a logical level, it doesn’t work on a character level, and yet I’m here, stuck putting up with it for those exact reasons. This is the exact type of thing that got Sherlock fans so much mockery. “No guys, it’s bad on purpose for the secret extra season!”

I’m tired of being optimistic, too. Being optimistic often feels like letting it go unsaid how fucked every part of this is. Loads of characters die, or don’t show up for months at a time, but having a character’s emotional consistency actively dismantled to serve another character’s arc is something that basically never happens in this series. Unless you’re Ymir or Historia. Nice.

Because of how good the character work has been, I am optimistic. Still.

At the same time, the things I love most about the series have been fucked over worse and more completely than anything else going on in the story, and sometimes, I would like a little room to be pissed.

Where is my fucking wall scene, WIT?

#attack on asks #shingeki no no #I really hope it isn't as bad as it looks #because it looks so fucking bad #not to mention all of this is happening #while the themes discussed in her arc #are still being honored and present #but just y'know #with everyone except her #it makes it feel like a mistake to grow attached to historia as a character #because she's being used like the cardboard cutout she learned to move beyond #stories that make you regret picking them up should be like 'oh no my emotions'#not 'oh no you completely wasted my time by making me think this was going somewhere'#anyway anon #fucking mood

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melancholicumsomnia · 3 years

Text

The Redeemers (A Mandalorian Fanfic) Chapter 3

All warnings/pairings and other info to follow per chapter. For now, this is safe reading for everyone. If there are any spelling or grammar errors, I’ll be correcting them at a later date.

Sorry I wasn’t able to post this chapter last week. I was so busy with rush deadlines.

To @pedrocentric, I know I showed you a bit of this chapter earlier. Well, here’s the whole Chapter 3. Thank you so much for your friendship!

Previous Chapters can be found here:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

THE REDEEMERS

Rory

Chapter Three: Refuge

The deafening noise of a descending spacecraft caused Rebel General Hera Syndulla to emerge from the thatched hut that was her temporary home on the moon of Endor. Already, Ewoks were running excitedly to the clearing, which served as a rudimentary landing field.

Hurrying after the furballs, a broad smile formed on Hera’s face at the sight of the freighter and the familiar figures emerging from its open hatch. At once, she raised both arms and cried, “Ahsoka! Bo-Katan! It’s so great to see you again!”

Grinning, the two women allowed themselves to be drawn into a warm, exuberant hug.

“I wish we could say that this is a pleasure call, Hera,” Bo said with a rueful smile, giving the Twi’lek’s back a congenial pat.

“Yeah, I heard the full story from Ahsoka,” Hera replied. “You’re in luck though. I have a…friend…who is supposed to be dropping by here on Endor.” She rolled her eyes. “…Unless that bucket of bolts he calls a ship decided to call it quits and take him along with it. He’s late…as usual. But he did promise that he’d come. He’s the only person I know who is good friends with another Jedi. I don’t even know this Jedi’s name, much more seen him. From what I’ve been hearing though, he seems to be a closely guarded secret among the higher echelons of the Rebel Alliance.”

“Well, we can wait,” Ahsoka reassured her friend. “In the meantime, we can help you out with your little problem here.”

“It’s more of a pest problem actually. I thought we had completely wiped out the Imperials who are stationed on this moon. Well, those remaining Imps turned into pirates and have taken to raiding villages and capturing Ewoks to be enslaved or, worse, slaughtered and made into Ewok Jerky.” Hera couldn’t help shuddering in disgust. “We were able to track down their hideout in the far side of Endor. I need your help to free the villagers that they are holding captive there, so they can be reunited with their children and elders that we are sheltering here.”

“We’d be very happy to help you in any way we can. It will be like the old days,” Ahsoka said, reminiscing inwardly about their battles years back against the Empire.

“In fact,” Bo-Katan interjected, “I don’t think we should waste any more time waiting for your backup. I say we attack them now and get those villagers out of there.”

“Thank you, my friends. So…” the Twi’lek general’s brows lifted in anticipation, “…Where is this patient you’ve been telling me about?”

Suddenly, they heard the awed chattering of the Ewoks gathered in front of the hatchway. The little creatures then dropped to their knees and started bowing fervently, making worshipful noises, as Koska and Axe, with Dr. Pershing standing at the side of a floating gurney, descended from the freighter. Koska was carrying a bag in her right hand. Judging from the telltale silver gleam from the bag’s opening, the contents were clearly beskar armor. Seeing the patient’s helmet, she readily confirmed him to be a Mandalorian, same as Bo-Katan Kryze.

However, the reason why the Ewoks were giving the patient their profuse obeisance was because the Mandalorian was levitating a foot above the gurney’s mattress.

“Uh…whaaat…” Hera stammered, pointing to the Mandalorian as the gurney moved past her.

“We don’t know,” Ahsoka admitted with a shrug. “I’ve began calling it a form of Force sickness.”

“O…kaaaay…”

Bo took Hera’s arm. “We can discuss the matter later. I’m assuming that the Mandalorian will be safe here?”

Hera could only nod, still flabbergasted at the sight she beheld.

“Good. Once Koska and Axe have Din Djarin and Dr. Pershing settled in, they’ll come join us. Let’s go and free those Ewoks for now, and we can talk about it on the way to the Imp hideout.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Din Djarin felt like he was floating in a warm sea, calming at times but, more often than not, turbulent, the waves battering his body with scorching heat and pain. But the pain could not compare to the raw, empty hole in his chest.

Why? He would ask again and again. I know I’m not perfect, but haven’t I tried to be a good father to you?

The answer to those heartbroken questions never came. Just those merciless voices telling him “You can find him”, “We have given you the power, so use it”, “All you have to do is reach out.” The voices of two men – one older, commanding, the other younger, seducing – and a woman, kind and understanding.

He didn’t know how long he had been floating in that sea, just listening to those voices and trying to fill that gaping hole in his chest with memories of the past. Of him. The voices kept pestering him to stop dwelling on past and concentrate on the now, because he was needed. That the universe was in disorder. That he needed to restore balance again.

But he couldn’t care less about the universe. All he wanted was an answer to that simple question: Why?

And then he felt her die. It hadn’t been a quick death, that much he was sure of. He had felt the excruciating pain of merciless torture. A torture demanding an answer to the question Where?

Where what? What are you searching for?...STOP!

He had lashed out then. Sending out…something…to try to stop her agony because he knew he couldn’t save her. Couldn’t spare her from more pain. At that last moment before he had extinguished her life, she sent back one final thought to him.

Thank you. And then nothing.

Yet, he felt no comfort in those words. He had killed a comrade, a sister-in-arms, a friend.

Tap!

That sharp, metallic tap pierced through the fog of his misery. Stop it! Leave me in peace!

??? Then a softer, apprehensive, tap.

With trembling hand, he reached out, but instead of soft, fuzzy skin like a peach, what his fingers encountered was fluffy fur. As Din’s vision cleared, he gaped, surprised, at a tiny Ewok that was gazing back at him.

Groaning, Din tried to ease himself up on one elbow. The Ewok let out a squeal as it ran to a dark corner. He raised his hand again, about to tell the little creature not to be afraid of him. But then, something slipped down to his lap. His eyes widened in horror at the sight of the Darksaber lying before him. With a cry of loathing and distrust, Din flicked the sword away, letting it fall with a clatter on the floor.

At that sudden noise, a man appeared at the open doorway. Judging from the trees outside and the crudeness of his current dwellings, Din realized that he was in an Ewok village, most likely Endor if his memories served him correctly. Dressed in an Imperial uniform, Din recognized the man, but he couldn’t remember his name.

“At last, you’re finally awake!” the man said happily and with obvious relief. “Don’t worry, sir. You’re safe. I swear we are not in an Imperial base. I’m no longer with the Empire. We’re on Endor. Ooh, they will be so happy to see you when they get back.”

“Who are…”

“Oh, I’m sorry. In my excitement, I just kept blabbering away. I’m Dr. Pershing. We first met on Nevarro. You know…those lamentable circumstances with the Client…and the Child.”

“The Child is gone. The Empire will never find him.” Din fell silent at that last. He knew that Grogu was lost to him as well.

Noting the sad tone in his words, Dr. Pershing could only nod. “I know, sir. But we can at least find some comfort in that, that he is safe. He is safe, right, sir?”

Unconsciously, Din found himself reaching out with his senses. And there it was – a wink of light, before it flickered out.

Yes, Dr. Pershing was right. He is safe. Even with the bond between them gone, there was a small measure of relief in knowing that Grogu was out there somewhere.

His attention was drawn back to the Imperial scientist when the man squinted at the figure in the corner and demanded, “Chicklet, is that you? What are you doing here, little lady? Didn’t I tell you that you should let him sleep? You shouldn’t believe what the others are telling you. He’s a Mandalorian, not a god!”

The Ewok emerged shyly from the shadows. She was an adorable little thing, furry like others of her kind. But her fur was pale with dark brown patches. There were dark brown patches over her eyes, so that it looked as though she was wearing a mask.

“It’s alright,” Din reassured the scientist. “She can stay.”

Before Dr. Pershing can stop her, the Ewok clambered over the bed and curled up on Din’s lap.

“Rogue Stormtroopers attacked her village,” Dr. Pershing explained, as he ruffled the fur on the Ewok’s head. “She and her fellow survivors managed to make their way here. Ahsoka Tano, Lady Bo-Katan Kryze and her Nite Owls, and General Syndulla are heading to their hideout right now as we speak. They plan to rescue the villagers before they are shipped off-moon. They told me to stay here with you, and to await a comrade of the general’s who is arriving anytime soon.”

Din shook his head guiltily. “I should be with them. They’re the ones who saved me, right? I’ve been such a huge bother to them. I should be there to help.”

“They are worried about you, sir, but your health and safety are more important to them.”

“I don’t deserve their concern,” Din said bitterly. “I…It was I who killed Cara Dune.”

Dr. Pershing’s eyebrows raised at that confession. With a small shake, he stated, “Now is not the time to talk about that, sir. But knowing the ways of the Empire after all these years, what you did…it was necessary. You wouldn’t have wanted her to suffer.”

“It doesn’t make the pain any less though. She was my friend.”

“And a brave, loyal friend she was. You did her a great service by giving her an end that she deserved…whatever it was that you actually did do.”

Dr. Pershing sighed and leaned over, draping the blanket over the Mandalorian and the Ewok. “Please get some rest, sir. You need to heal.”

“Let me just sit up for a while, Dr. Pershing. My body feels so weak and my back is stiff from lying down for too long.” He then quickly added, “And please call me, Din. My name is Din Djarin.”

“Thank you for your trust, si-…I mean…Din.” As he straightened up, Dr. Pershing saw the Darksaber on the floor. Picking it up, he was about to give it to the Mandalorian when Din recoiled from the sword, weakly scrambling to the other side of the bed so that his back hit a thatched wall. He had wrapped his arms protectively around the Ewok, so that the little furball let out a soft ‘woof’.

“Keep it away from me!” Din hissed. “I don’t want it!”

“I know why you don’t like this sword. Bo-Katan explained to me what the Darksaber means to the Mandalorian people. But you must keep the Darksaber with you for the time being. I still don’t understand what’s happening with it because I don’t have the equipment to do the tests, but this sword, in particular, the kyber crystal inside it, has bonded with you…” Din moaned at that. “…And it is healing you.”

“I don’t understand,” Din exclaimed, forlorn. “I’m so confused!”

“Things will be clearer when Ahsoka and Bo-Katan return. In the meantime, please do take it so you can heal faster.”

Din was about to object, but the Ewok grabbed the sword and pressed her tiny form close to the Mandalorian, keeping the Darksaber wedged between their bodies.

Smiling, Dr. Pershing said, “Looks like the kid has more sense than you. Well, I’d best leave you two alone then. If you need anything, just let Chicklet come and fetch me.” He was about to go when he paused at the doorway. “You’ll rest more comfortably if you remove your helmet. You’re among friends, Din. It’s safe here.”

Even with the doctor gone, Din continued to stare at the open doorway and the trees beyond it. His attention was drawn back to the present by another soft tap on his helmet. Gazing down, he saw the Ewok looking up at him, still with that curious expression on her face. With a cautious fingertip, she stroked the helmet’s smooth, gleaming surface.

Din felt a sudden pang of loneliness. Grogu had done the same thing that last time they were together. Sighing, he slowly lifted his helmet, laying it on the bed beside him. The Ewok’s face brightened, beholding him at last. She was making sweet, high-pitched noises, like Grogu had done.

“Chicklet…” Din mused, unable to contain his amused grin. “That’s a funny name for an Ewok.”

At these words, Chicklet pressed both hands over Din’s cheeks with a loud clap. Before Din knew what was happening, the mischievous Ewok gave him a noisy smack on the lips. Ignoring the Mandalorian’s surprised sputters, Chicklet curled up in a tight ball, squeezing her form and the Darksaber into Din’s belly.

Din exhaled in defeat. Those times with Grogu reminded him that he would always surrender to the whims of a youngling. Gently, he lay back down on the bed, cradling the Ewok in his arms, and settled back to sleep.

TO BE CONTINUED

#mandalorian fanfic #fanfic #the mandalorian #din djarin #grogu #the redeemers fic

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ariaadagio · 4 years

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TSSKSF Update

TSSKSF = The Super Secret Kitchen Sink Fic; it was my nickname for this thing when I didn’t have a title. The context being, my original concept for this fic was INSANE, there was so much shit going on. It was all that, and the kitchen sink. I’ve since pared down my original ambitions considerably—and subsequently came up with new ones—but I’m still looking at a 200k 250k word fic, at least. It’s plot dense.

FEEI = For Each Ecstatic Instant. The actual title! I finally thought of something that resonates with me! Yay!

No, this isn’t posted anywhere, yet. I don’t post WIPs if I can help it. This is just me chatting about my writing process and keeping you all in the loop :)

For those of you who are interested in following along, I’ve been creating a playlist for this story as I’ve written/speculated chapters (each chapter gets one song). You can listen to it here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BCGSg4HLWvcPhadFyhywK?si=y9_WwNXRT5GWHhy-c3wcRQ. It’s moody and broody, and I’m enjoying listening to it when I’m out and about, unrelated to this story :)

Another relatively small update today. I’ve essentially worked all week/weekend and finally lapped myself. Of 47 chapters, I’ve fixed up 44. The remaining 3 are part of the ending, and I’m still trying to decide how to overhaul them. There’s still a few things left to tweak overall before proceeding, but I’m on target to resume writing next weekend. I’m not sure how many chapters I actually have left to write from scratch—at least 2. Probably more. It will depend entirely on how Lucifer’s epiphany goes when I actually write it out, and exactly how much denouement my muse demands for all this suffering (both of me, and my poor subjects). Lol.

Having now worked my way through the entire story, refreshing myself on various plot threads and details, I’ve leaned back toward keeping the really dark chapter I previously mentioned. My gut is just screaming at me not to mess with it, that it’s a natural and important step toward the ultimate conclusion of this story. Some of my betas might disagree with me—some of you as readers might disagree, too—but at the end of the day, I also have to think about me, the story I want to tell, and what’s going to make me feel like I did my very best to tell it.

I believe I’ve said a few times that writing this thing has been a massive learning experience for me. I’ve written stories much longer than this before, sure, but I’ve never before tried to tell a story with so many dovetailing but initially disparate plot lines. Usually, I have an A plot full of mythos and action and other crazy stuff, a B plot for romance, and maybe a string of shorter C plots for various reasons. This time, I’ve got:

A: Solving the mystery of Lucifer’s appearance/amnesia/curse. (Multiple subplots: therapy with Linda, the search for Constantine, etc.)

B: Chloe & Lucifer’s relationship/romance.

C: The murder Chloe & Lucifer are solving.

D: Events in Hell, interspersed as flashbacks throughout.

E: Apocalypse-y stuff.

These plots span most if not all of the story. Then there’s all the shorter F plots that come and go for various reasons. And in the end, all of this is actually supposed to tie together (some more than others). I mean, yikes, right? It’s definitely a brain teaser trying to organize this in a way that makes sense and doesn’t feel like a badly juggled clown show. Hopefully, you guys are at least enjoying the front row seat to all my rambling while I solve the puzzle lol.

Anyway.

In the meantime, look at the purty, purty story banner @thewollfgang made me!

I’m so jazzed about it :D

#lucifer on netflix #lucifer fanfiction #deckerstar #aria writes #tssksf

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risingsouls · 3 years

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Recruited: Chapter 3

[I finally finished this. I knew because it had combat in it, it would take me a bit longer, but surprisingly, that part wasn’t as painful as I thought it would be. And was pretty fun to write. :3

Anyway, long one here but we’re makin’ progress!]

Nabooru

Only Nabooru’s innate sense of direction and memory from Zarbon’s tour helped her find her way back to her room once she came to after the procedure, and the numbers that once seemed foreign on the pad next to her door felt as innate as if she learned them alongside her basic arithmetic in her youth back home. A sign the chip worked, if nothing else. Small and windowless, her room was as inviting as a prison cell and only half a foot remained between her fingertips and each wall when she spread them out. The bed in the corner at least looked long enough, but was less than half as wide as that she slumbered in back home, and a press of her palm on the thin mattress made her miss the plush pillows and blankets that cradled her along with the feather-filled mattress all the more. A counter spanned along the wall across the foot of the bed adjacent to the door and she rested her bag there where she would unpack it at a later, more wakeful time.

Had she not sat on the edge of her bed and considered whether she had the energy to strip down before falling asleep, she noted the set of mirrored double doors across from her. Curiosity defeated her drowsiness and, with the press of the button, she opened it up. Inside, she found spare changes of her uniform in the same colors and styles as well as a few sets of a drab gray fabric. Unfolding them revealed them to be sleepwear of sorts with shorts in the same style and fabric as her armor and a sleeveless top that, when she swapped her armor out for the new outfit, found the top to be looser and more comfortable for sleep than the skin-tight battle suit. The top was a little on the short side, a quarter of her toned midriff on display, but, even if she did care, she didn’t have the capacity to consider taking it up with Zarbon or anyone else.

The sleep Nabooru managed could only be attributed to the residual drugs left in her system as her nerves over not understanding how to tell time woke her several times. After the third, she fought the remnants of exhaustion and remained awake, changing back into her uniform and heading to the classroom where she would begin her lessons. Sunshine or something like it eventually glimmered through the window, but she could only guess how long she waited there in the empty space, fiddling with the device fitted to the side of her head in the meantime.

A signal sounded what she guessed was the first meal and, after another half hour, perhaps, the whir of the door pulled her from a confusing rabbit hole of commands she had sifted through on the scouter. A short, squatty alien with yellow-splotched orange skin and at least a half dozen tentacled arms dangling around him like a frilled collar shuffled into the room, casting her little more than a haughty, disapproving glance through watery and bulging eyes. He introduced himself as Plumme and steamrolled straight into the first lesson. Despite his demeanor, Plumme proved more patient than she expected. Still, by the time the signal for the second meal sounded through the complex, her head was pounding from hours of cramming nonstop and new information about the technology she would become familiar with, how the business worked, the history of the Cold Empire and the PTO, and the limitless depths of space.

Once dismissed until the same time the next morning, she trudged to the mess hall, using both her memory and the map function in her scouter for practice in using it outside of lessons. With a full afternoon of training--a far more exciting prospect than her morning regimen--she would need her strength. She ignored the expected stares and not-so-discrete comments about her looks or newbie status in favor of focusing on the array of strange foods and scents laid out along the line and piling them onto her tray as others in front of her did. She skirted around the tables and soldiers to commandeer an empty one. With limited time, she didn’t fuss with what she shoved into her mouth, only sliding something to the side if it threatened to lurch back up before it could make it to her belly.

Out of both excitement for the prospect of training her combat skills over bombarding her mind and concern over the consequences of being late, she followed the example of other soldiers in disposing of her scraps and tray and hurried back to the classroom where she was instructed to meet her trainer. From there, they would take her to a training area of their choice. Plumme suggested it would be one of the multiple training rooms with infinite virtual simulations for any combat situation one could dream up. Convenient, artificial, and efficient, as everything seemed to be there.

When she turned the last corner, she couldn't help but snort at the irony of who she found leaned against the wall outside of the classroom. The fluorescent lights overhead reflected off his bald dome, and his folded arms over his broad chest and frown that followed the growth of his mustache denoted less than excitement for the task set to him. She supposed she would have a hard time heeding Zarbon's warning to stay away from him and his cohorts--Saiyans, he called them--if he was to instruct her for the next month.

Turning his head, his sour expression melted away, a smirk replacing it in a split second. "I was beginning to think you chickened out," he said as she halted by his side. "Would have been unfortunate considering we don't get many lookers like you around here."

Nabooru's eyelids lowered, and she considered putting him through the wall. Not five seconds into their first meeting and he already had the gall to flirt with her. "I noticed. I haven't seen one person around here that isn't a total eyesore." Recognition dawned slow over his features, and Nabooru adopted his smirk in light of it. Before he could retort, she cut him off. "So you're the one training me, huh? Where are the other two who were with you?"

"Sure am. I'd be more upset about another nanny gig if they had shoved anyone else on me. Looks aside, your power level is something else for a new recruit, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in seeing what you're made of. Frieza said your people are similar to Saiyans, too. Now I get a front row seat to see just how well that holds up." He turned and signaled for her to follow with a crook of two large fingers. "You mean Vegeta and Raditz? Off on some job or other s'far as I know. I'm sure they'll be missing me when they realize how much slack they have to pick up. And jealous when they find out I get to spend half a day with you instead of having to look at their ugly mugs."

Nabooru bit her tongue to stifle a sassy retort, deciding it best to stay on his good side for the time being. He seemed easy-going enough, but she wanted to get the most out of her training, not give him reason to sabotage it. "Guess you're getting a nice little vacation then until I get to beat the tar out of you in a spar," she said, grinning in the face of the sneer he shot her. So much for not poking the molduga. "What do you have planned for me, er...what should I call you?"

"Master Nappa has a nice ring to it." They halted in front of a pair of doors. Nappa and the guard on duty exchanged a nod. The guard opened up the doors to a ramp sloping down to a desolate, red-soiled surface. Craggy cliffs and spires of rock jutted into the teal skyline. "Or just master is great, too."

"I'm not calling you master," Nabooru quipped, following him down the ramp. Rust-colored dust stained her once pristine boots upon reaching the planet's surface, but she welcomed it along with the first hint of a proper breeze on her skin and passingly fresh air in her lungs. "Let's compromise the other way and go with Nappa. That or I'll think of something you won't like."

Nappa rubbed a hand along his square jaw. "You drive a hard bargain, lady. But fine. I'm still going to refer to myself as your master though, and you as my pupil." His feet left the ground to hover above it. "You can at least fly, right?"

She followed his lead in answer. "My name is Nabooru. Not lady."

“Not a bad name, I guess. A little weird...”

He took to the sky and Nabooru followed suit, using the silence between them to observe the planet she now called home, even if only temporarily. It sounded like she would move around quite a bit. Outside of the complex, the further they flew, the more sure she became that it was completely barren and devoid of other life. The remnants of what could have been buildings and civilization suggested it may not have always been that way. Optimism had her wanting to believe Frieza and his men had found the planet already abandoned, but the bits of knowledge she had scraped together from Zarbon and her morning lessons suggested the planet was purposefully and violently cleared to harbor this base.

“Here’s a good spot.”

Nabooru nearly collided with his massive back in her sightseeing, narrowly avoiding the embarrassment by floating to his side instead. “Is there something I’m supposed to see here?” she asked with a cocked eyebrow, arms folded. It looked much the same as the rest of the planet. “Plumme mentioned a training room. Why aren’t we using that?”

“You ask too many questions,” he muttered gruffly, facing her and mirroring her cross-armed posture. “We’re training with ki, we need the room, and I’m not here to half-ass your training. How’s that for a reason?”

“Touchy.”

The Saiyan grumbled more, and her lips twitched in another smile when she just made out a threat to make her suffer through this training. Though she wanted a good challenge, she decided to wait and see what he might throw at her without egging him on for more. She wanted to give him a fair chance to put her to the test of his own accord.

“From what I understand, you’ve got the basics of ki under your belt, right?�� Nabooru nodded. “Good then this will be fun.”

Nabooru raised an eyebrow as Nappa scanned their surroundings, searching for she could only guess what in this barren wasteland. His roving eyes eventually halted, and she followed his gaze to a stalagmite twice her height jutting out of a field of smaller ones surrounding it. "Perfect.”

Her brows lowered, lips turned down in a baffled grimace, observing the stalagmite and the field of smaller ones surrounding it. Were they going to spar over it? She faced a bloody demise if he knocked her into it hard enough. She shuddered at the image of her mangled body pierced on the formations. "What does a bunch of rocks have to do with ki training?”

"Are you questioning my teaching methods?" She started to reply with a snarky affirmative, but the Saiyan cut her off. "You’re going to use your ki to keep yourself levitated over that rock there." He tilted his head toward the largest of the formations. “And no, not by flying before you try that on me. You’re going to concentrate your energy into your finger and use it to keep yourself from being impaled and without destroying the rock. You’ll do that for an hour. You cheat, boost yourself too high, or fall, we start the hour over.”

She hoped for a challenge, and Nappa had delivered. Controlling her ki in such a way, keeping it at a low enough level while also strong enough to keep herself aloft would take skill and focus. Controlling her ki for a long period which would benefit her ability to maintain it in a fight. While it wouldn’t utilize the maximum reaches of her ki power wise, she could see the benefit of learning to use it in more concentrated ways. With this exercise likely serving as a warm up, she both dreaded and looked forward to what else he had in store for her.

Boots lifted from the ground and she drifted up to the stalagmite. With at least an hour of this ahead of her, she wanted to waste no time. She doubted failing to measure up to whatever standards Frieza had in mind for her would bode well for her. She needed every minute she could glean to improve herself. Learn how to utilize her ki to the very finest uses and in the ways best for her new station.

Gripping the tip of the stalagmite, she hoisted herself up onto it, legs extended to the sky and one arm holding her up. The stone that made up her pedestal was sturdier than she imagined, her touch doing little to disturb its integrity. Bolstered, she shifted up onto her fingertip and adjusted her body's balance accordingly. She had to approach the next phase with the utmost care. Too little energy would fail to lift her, and too much would destroy the pillar entirely. Neither conducive outcomes toward her training as both would waste time. Thus, she fed the barest amount of ki into her fingertip, orange light flickering at the tip of her glove. Again and again she repeated this process, adding minimal increments of energy until it lifted her finger from the point. Not until an inch of orange-yellow light glowed between leather and rock did she pause, memorizing how it felt and what it would take to maintain the pose. Ensuring it was only that point that held her aloft. Keeping an eye on the stalagmite itself for signs of breakage.

"This high enough?" She asked Nappa at last, lifting her head to find the Saiyan lounging on a boulder, arms folded and observing her with the hint of a smirk. Sweat already beaded on her forehead, embarrassing after only a few minutes. If she made it through the hour, she would be drenched before they did anything active.

"Sure is. You got that faster than I thought you would." He tapped his scouter. "I was pretty sure we'd have to find at least one more rock to use. Guess you're a whole lot more patient than Vegeta when he was a kid. Hell, probably now, too."

She dropped her head again, not wanting to waste any energy on holding it up. "So this is a regular exercise for your training camp, huh? Here I thought I was special."

"Heh, yep. Vegeta and Raditz went through this as brats. Vegeta obliterated the first three rocks we tried with, probably on purpose. Raditz got caught in the crossfire and would have to start over with him." He chuckled, the memory obviously a fond one. "Finally got 'em to do it right, but it only lasted a week. You'll get to start each session this way for a month."

"So you're saying I could throw a temper tantrum and get out of doing this?"

"Not a chance."

She blew out a puff of air. "Worth a try."

Silent minutes ticked by, the sound of the breeze between the canyon walls and Nappa shifting in his seat once in while all that interrupted them. She had begun to feel the strain the constant flow of energy took on her, and it began to overtake her attention to remaining aloft. She glanced to Nappa. "So are you their father?" she asked, hoping the conversation would take her mind off of the settling fatigue.

He snorted. "Hell no. You really think either of them could be my kid?" She rolled her eyes and he continued. "Nah, I was just the only adult Saiyan left so I got stuck with caring for the two squirts."

"Wait." She lifted her head again and righted the flutter of her energy before her surprise got her impaled. "You three are the last of your race? What happened to the rest of them?"

Nappa grunted and frowned, eyes closing beneath a furrowed brow. "Planet was destroyed by a meteor years ago. S'far as we know, we were the only survivors. The prince, his retainer, and a bushy haired runt that just got lucky. Though, I guess we all did."

Her stomach churned. She knew what it was like for her people to be on the brink of potential destruction. These three lived through the worst case scenario of it. The actualization of the doomsday scenes her mind had conjured for her race in dream and waking alike for the last several years.

"How did you survive?" Though only two days into her career, she did understand that people couldn't breathe in space. Not to mention the survival of a planet's destruction would be slim so she thought.

"Like I said. Luck, really." Nabooru lifted her head enough to see the tinge of what she assumed was pain or regret flash over his otherwise neutral expression. "The three of us were off planet at the time. The king and Frieza had made some kind of agreement. For whatever reason, his power I'm guessing, Frieza wanted Vegeta close by. Maybe for grooming to be one of his generals one day, who really knows. That meant he got me, too, as the prince's caretaker. The king's request so I could keep an eye on him. He was just a brat back then, you know. Raditz was off on a mission. We found him floating where the planet used to be. His pod's autopilot took him back there."

Nabooru breathed out a sigh and watched a drop of sweat drip from the tip of her nose and into the stalagmite trap below. She bit her tongue on her sympathy, knowing had their roles been reversed, she wouldn't want to hear some stranger's apologies or endure their coddling. Once more, she felt an innate pull to Nappa and his cohorts with little information on them, the need to form bonds with someone in this new, daunting environment rearing its head as it had in their first, brief encounter. She couldn't afford those relationships, flimsy attachments that could disappear in the blink of an eye and be used against her.

Besides, they had each other. The last three of their kind. She was the one perfectly alone there.

"What are your people like, huh? Frieza said you guys reminded him of us."

The question felt like a twisted dagger in her heart. She hadn't realized she felt homesick until that moment, her new schedule keeping her busy and her mind occupied. She felt a hitch upward in her ki and she quelled it quickly before it could send her skyward or damage the stalagmite. She shook her head to erase the visions of the desert, the temple, her friends, mother, and lover. She had to stay strong. For them. A whiny baby begging to go home would be met with a cold shoulder at best.

"We're warriors. The greatest on the planet without contest. Even more so now that we can use ki. All women save for the one male born each century." She heard a curiously pleased rumble from the Saiyan and she snapped, "Don't get any stupid ideas. And don't think too much into the plausibility of that. The legends point to one of our goddess but no one really knows how it happens. Hyrule doesn't have much in the way of technology or all this scientific advancement. So if there's a more concrete reason, we wouldn't know of it."

"Heh, sounds like that male is pretty lucky, then." Nabooru shot him a glare, causing him to chuckle. "Alright, keep your shorts on. So what lucky happenstance put you guys and your planet on Frieza's radar? With no technology and warriors with no knowledge of ki, that leaves little left for him to take interest."

Had she not been afraid the motion would throw her off balance, she would have shrugged. “Resources are what the scouts concluded, I think. I guess with so much of the planet untouched, they found plenty they could use.” She bent her legs at the knees for a few seconds before straightening them out again. “They found out about our troubles with the other races on the planet, and Frieza made us a deal: his soldiers teach us how to use ki so we could overthrow the current monarchy in power and free ourselves, and in exchange, they rule the planet in his stead and he gets me to add to his ranks.”

Nappa pondered her explanation, tapping his fingers on his bicep. “There are worse deals, I guess. I don’t suppose you know how that turned out?”

“No. We had undergone about a month of training before Frieza showed up and said he wanted me.”

“Lucky you,” Nappa said with a snort, and Nabooru didn’t disagree with the evident sarcasm. Before either could continue, Nappa’s scouter beeped thrice, and he tapped the button on the side. “Well, congratulations. You completed your warm up.”

Nabooru sighed in relief and eased herself back down, grasping the top of the stalagmite again and righting her orientation. She floated back down to land in front of Nappa, a slight drain on her reserves of energy evident with just that simple task. A kink to work out if she wanted to last and become a true force to be reckoned with.

"Now what? Are you going to spar with me?"

The Saiyan snorted again and reached into this armor, bringing out a glass vial. Small, green spheres floated in a paler shaded liquid. "Maybe another day. For now, you'll be fighting these Saibamen. Should be around your power level. Unlike me, these are expendable."

"So you're scared?" Nabooru taunted with a grin as Nappa squatted down and pressed the spheres into the ground and sprinkled the liquid over them. Curiosity stifled the rest of her taunts. "Are those plants? You're making me fight plants?"

“Heh, something like that.” Not a moment later did the dampened ground crack where he placed the seeds. What resembled bulbous cabbages plowed through the ground. Three-clawed hands raked along the ground and pulled out short, gangly bodies. They let out a cacophony of ear-splitting shrieks, and Nabooru clapped her hands over her ears.

"What are those things?" she shouted. She let her hands fall back to her sides when the creatures closed their mouths, devious little grins on their faces.

Nappa dropped the vial back into his armor. "These are called Saibamen. They’ll be your opponents. I want to see how well and how much you already incorporate ki into your own brand of combat." He grinned at her. "And what better way than with multiple enemies."

Her initial impression was that they didn't look like much. Scrawny and fragile things easily disposed of. However, she remembered that he said they had a power level close to her own, and though she still didn't quite understand what sort of statistics composed a power level, she knew better than to take them too lightly. Nappa's warm up exercise hadn't been a walk through a field of flowers, after all.

With a nod, she drifted out into a wider space, creating distance between herself and her new opponents as well as her spectating instructor. She bent her knees and shifted into a comfortable fighting stance, her weight balanced and both arms raised. "Ready when you are."

"You heard her. Go have some fun, ya runts!"

They needed no convincing. The six Saibamen shot straight for with another chorus of those shrieks, their speed notable but nothing she couldn't handle. Instinct kicked in as she dodged and blocked their flurry of kicks and punches while bearing the brunt of those she couldn't contend with, the pain of them registering for no more than a moment as she focused on taking down her opponents. The first order of business being moving from defense to offense before they wore her down and overpowered her with their numbers.

She caught one of them by the wrist and slammed it into the one nearest one, sending two skittering off several meters from her and the rest of the mob. The bite of claws dug into the meat of her thigh and another landed a kick to her opposite side before she could block the next punch aimed her her face with a raised forearm. Orange-yellow energy built in her free palm and she shot a sphere of it at the one who had drawn blood. She swung a powerful kick at the one in front of her, catching it and another up in the sweeping arc and sending them flying away from her.

Though only one remained in her immediate vicinity, she knew she had very precious few seconds before the other piled back in. Orange energy enveloped her and she shot backward, eyes flitting to each enemy and noting their location, how quickly they would recuperate to continue their onslaught. The first two had recovered and fired toward her, one with its own yellow ki blasts forming in its hands. The others were already regaining their feet.

She thought back to the desert, to the first time she did some real damage with her newfound abilities. The feeling of the energy it took to blow the top half clean off one of the larger plateaus dotting the desert landscape flowing from the vat of it within her to the palm of her hands. A similar attack could deal with the two speeding toward her. If not completely, it would weaken them enough to give her an opening to finish them off.

Her orange-yellow ki built in her hands at her sides and pushed them both out in front of her, firing the blast toward the advancing Saibamen. The light swallowed the fired blasts from one and the plant creatures followed suit, their shrieks of pain short lived as they disintegrated into nothing. A third had hastily tried to hop into the fray and gotten caught in the blast, leaving only the right half of its body to fall to the dusty ground. A gruesome sight that made her insides squirm, but she didn't have time to stare or consider how many more she would mutilate in such a way in this new position. How many wouldn't be just training fodder like these creatures.

The remaining Saibamen reminded her of the miniscule window in punishing fashion. A fist caught her side and knocked her off balance and sideways, her armor only seeming to absorb some of the blow. A second waited to boot her straight into the air. Before she could right herself the third zipped upward to bash his joined hands into her abdomen, knocking the wind out of her and sending her careening to the ground. Her back slammed the surface, spittle and blood emitting from her lips on impact and a spiderweb of cracks cascading outward from her body.

Another beep of her scouter told her what she already knew. Ignoring the pain in sore muscle and bone, Nabooru rolled to her feet as one of the monsters slammed a fist into the ground where her head had been, the indentation left deep. She threw her elbow back into another that tried to sucker punch her in the spine and used the moment of surprise in the first to fire another wave of ki at it. Another shriek and it was reduced to dust, leaving two alive and her patience running ever thinner.

She flipped around to face the one behind her, only just recovering from her elbow connecting hard with its face. He was chattering angrily in its nonsensical language and brushing the last bit of bluish ooze from its face. Nabooru fired forward again. Energy surged to her right fist as she aimed a heavy punch for its gut. She saw the confusion on its face when her punch landed and tore through green flesh, bone, muscles, and organs like paper and through to the other side. Once more she had to suppress her own surprise and the lunch she ate when she considered what she did and yanked her arm free of the creature to engage the final opponent.

It was just a beast. Just like the monsters in Hyrule.

She flicked the cyan blood from her glove and faced the final Saibaman, the fear on its face palpable and it's desire to flee written in its eyes. To prevent the chance, she closed the gap between them, gathering energy as she did. Once at point blank range, she released it. Awful as it felt to some degree, she preferred this tactic. Complete obliteration that felt less personal. Less messy. Less to look at in the aftermath and feel guilt over.

When the dust settled, she heard the applause of large hands and Nappa's boisterous laughter. "You really give new meaning to the term bombshell! You did better than I expected, honestly." He folded his arms with a smirk. "There's still work to be done, but I'm glad I have a better base to work with than I was expecting. You handle yourself like a true warrior out there. Nappa's pupil, the next up and comer in the Frieza Force. Has a real nice ring to it."

"It's only what I trained my whole life for," she replied, though the proud smile was more than apparent on her lips. She hoped it made her look less worn out than she felt. "So what's next?"

"Heh, raring to go, are ya?" Nappa pulled the vial out of his armor again. "Alright. I like it. We're going to do the same thing, but this time, I want you to stay airborne as much as possible. Think you can handle that?"

In truth, the Gerudo wasn't certain. Her experience with fighting while flying were minimal. Not to mention the ever-growing exhaustion. But she refused to tell him that. She would rise to the challenge.

“Plant another round, Nappa. I’m ready.”

#fic: recruited #:: nabooru ☀#// vegeta ♅#| nappa ♅#i worry i didn't make her struggle enough but #whatever :'D #next chapter she'll really get put through the ringer promise

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nattapohntkp · 3 years

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Rhythms & Blues

Everyone may have heard of a music genre called R&B (Rhythms & Blues), but many people don't know where R&B came from. With more melodies and rhythms founded, R&B is a music genre that focuses on the lyrics, the genre of love, and playing with the right rhythm. The music is a little brighter, but still not as bright as Pop. The musical instruments are not limited in style but often use a little sound effect. R&B originated in the '40s. It evolved from the Blues that black people sang in churches to release the suffering caused by the abuse and persecution of white people. Blues music has another meaning: sorrow, depression. Therefore, Blues has mostly sad rhymes and melodies, or sounds like a singing of the prayer in a church to seek blessings from the Lord (Gospel) itself. The R&B genre is a mix of African-American music from Pop, Jazz, and Blues. As the times change, more and more R&B music has evolved and mixed with other genres. Since the 90s, R&B music has infiltrated more and more music genres to become another genre. One example is that R&B can go along with Pop music which introduce many R&B stars such as, Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey, Jennifer Lopez, Celine Dion, Beyonce, Brian McKnight, Chris Brown, and more. It can also mix with Hip-hop music as well which appears in Afrobeat’s work. In addition to Pop and Hip-hop, artists like Davido and Wizkid blend R&B and local melodies to the mainstream.

R&B music is a music genre that can reach audiences with a wide range of rhythm, catchy content, reflecting stories. Therefore, it is the music that no matter how much the times change, R&B is a song that people still listen to.

The famous artists and their works.

1. Beyonce

Beyoncé Giselle Knowles, also known as Beyonce, became famous in the 1990s as a key member of destiny's child, the all-female R&B band of that era. In June 2003, during the suspension of Destiny's Child, she released her first solo artist with “Dangerously in Love” album. It was one of the most successful albums of that year. The album was a huge success in both sales and criticism, leading to a hit song such as “Crazy in love”. Later, Destiny's Child officially decided to disband. and she continued to work on music as a solo artist.

The examples of famous songs by Beyonce.

1. “Crazy in love” (2003) is a song that truly suitable for lovers because the content of the song says "Got me looking so crazy right now, your loves" which indicates how much you love someone until you are crazy about him and hope that he only calls your name.

2. “Listen” (2007) is a song that wants to convey other person to listen her voice and dream. Since, she has always followed others in the past but it's time for others to listen to her voice, her desire, and her dream.

2. Whitney Houston

Whitney Elizabeth Houston is an American singer, actress, and filmmaker. She is named the most awarded female artist of all time by the Guinness World Records. She is one of the best-selling music artists of all time, with approximately 200 million records worldwide. She is also an influencer for many African American female artists.

The examples of famous songs by Whitney Houston.

1. “I will always love you” (1992) is a song that wants to say goodbye painfully and deeply. The lyrics present a true love that we unable to stop loving even though we are far apart unless we discover later that the person we love is not what we think.

2. “I have nothing” (1993) is a song about deep and confusing love that arises between lovers due to the different feelings of women and men when it comes to their bond with their lover.

3. Mariah Carey

Mariah Carey is an American singer, songwriter, music producer and actress. She made her debut in 1990 under the direction of Columbia Records executive Tommy Mottola. She became the first artist to have the first 5 singles hit the 1st chart on the Billboard Hot 100. She has a lot of hit songs, making her the best-selling artist in Columbia. According to Billboard magazine, she was the most successful artist of the 1990s in the United States.

The examples of famous songs by Mariah Carey.

1. “Hero” (1993) is a song that wants to convey to the audience that loving yourself is the most important thing.

2. “We belong together” (2005) is a song that reminds many couples very well. This song teaches you how powerful words are, no matter how much you do well or be honest with love. Speaking without thinking, it can ruin a relationship.

4. Jennifer Lopez

Jennifer Lynn Lopez is an American singer-actress. The owner of many famous songs whose past albums have sold more than 80 million copies worldwide and the movies that reach $ 2 billion.

The examples of famous songs by Jennifer Lopez.

1. “If you had my love” (1999), the lyrics are about the beginning of a new relationship with Jennifer Lopez during her confrontation with her crush.

2. “All I have” (2002) is a song that interacts between women and men., In this song, the woman is the one who breaks up and the man does not want to believe that she really leaves him. So, he tries to hold back but it is impossible to be the same. This song is a soothing melody but it expresses the pain of a man.

5. Brian McKnight

Brian McKnight is a talented artist with a wide range of singing and performance and he can play the music that ever nominated for a Grammy.

The examples of famous songs by Brian McKnight.

1. “One last cry (1993)”, the lyrics present to the people who are upset or disappointed about love, feel sorry, and want to cry. It will be the last time and don't let the same person come back to hurt us again. Tomorrow will start over, you have to tell yourself that you will have a new life and new things are waiting for you. When our thoughts and ourselves are good, we are always attracted to the good things, smiling brightly and strongly open for the something good coming in.

2. “Back at one” (1999), the lyrics present the good love that a man has for the woman he loves if he is like a bird perched on a branch and never afraid that the branches will break and fall because he believed in his own wing power.

6. Ne-Yo

Shaffer Chimere Smith, better known as Ne-Yo, is an R&B singer, songwriter, music producer, and American actor. He is famous for composing music when he composed Mario's “Let me love you”. This success leads Ne-Yo to meet with the head of Def Jam and sign a contract.

The examples of famous songs by Ne-Yo.

1. “So sick” (2006), the lyrics present that to forget about the old love are often very hard thing for many people, only time that can heal and that memory will be forgotten someday, but until then, those will always be the things that bother you to think about the past we did with an old lover.

2. “Miss Independent” (2008) is a song that wants to present that if you meet a woman and you are very interested in her, you will be able to observe her personality traits and capture her strengths and compose stories about why you like her.

7. Alicia Keys

Alicia J. Augello-Cook is an American R&B singer which sold more than 20 million copies worldwide from her first album in 2001 until 2007. The first album, “Songs in A Minor”, featured the hit song ‘Fallin’, selling more than 10 million copies worldwide and earn her 5 Grammy Awards. (Including the grand prize: Best New Artist and Best R&B Album).

The examples of famous songs by Alicia Keys.

1. “You don't know my name” (2003) is a song that presents the insanity of love on one side because he did not even know her name. She really liked him and felt that he had possessed her mind.

2. “If I ain't got you” (2004) is a love song that presents an interesting worldview philosophy. Fame, honor, and money, they do not important and are just illusions when compared with to be loved by someone.

8. John Legend

John Legend, real name John Stephens. He is an all-around R&B, soul, hip-hop artist with a wide range of singing, playing, composing, arranging, and producing music. His first album won 3 Grammy Awards 2006, 3 Soul Train Awards 2006, and 1 BET Award 2005. Britney Jean Spears, The Black Eyed Peas, Jay-Z, and more.

The examples of famous songs by John Legend.

1. “Used to love you” (2004) is a sad song that comes from the breakup. She was gone and took all the memories from him but he still remembered the moment when he first met her which make him sad when she left. Although he hates her a lot, he used to love her a lot too.

2. “All of me” (2008), the lyrics represent if you really love someone, you have to give your heart to him wholeheartedly and you need to accept him as he is no matter what it is good or bad. Then, you will be happy and you will never have to regret that later "Why are you like this or Why are you like that? " because you are willing and can accept anything that he can be.

9. Jeff Bernat

Jeff Bernat is an American-Filipino singer, songwriter, and producer. The owner of the super romantic song 'Call You Mine' has been selected to accompany the popular Korean series 'You Are My Destiny' and has a lot of Korean fans. Since he released his first full album, “The Gentleman Approach” in 2012, the 29-year-old Jeff Bernat has been on the constantly watch with subsequent albums such as “Modern Renaissance” (2013), “In the Meantime” (2016), and “Afterwards” (2017).

The examples of famous songs by Jeff Bernat.

1. “Just vibe” (2011) is a song for the fanatic. It represents to someone convey a woman who treats him equally as everyone else. Even if you are higher than him and tell her that he likes what she does, but actually likes everything that is her.

2. “Call you mine” (2019), also known as The Gentlemen approach, means approaching a woman like a gentleman. It is a song that has a good meaning and suitable for giving to someone special. The best sentence of this song is "Can I call you mine?".

10. The Weeknd

Abel Tesfaye, known as The Weeknd, is a Canadian singer, songwriter, and music producer. In late 2010, he uploads the song to YouTube by the unknown name, The Weeknd. he released several mixtapes, and each set contains nine songs throughout 2011, including the highly acclaimed House of Balloons, Thursday, and Echoes of Silence.

The examples of famous songs by The Weeknd.

1. “Heartless” (2019) is a fun song that hides the gloom of a man who blames himself for being heartless to love one another. In which the heart deeply, he wants to have good love but living a fun life, spending money, mingling with other people, is the one that makes life go around like this.

2. “Blinding lights” (2020), a melancholy song of desperate people who leave their ex-lover. The inaction of that ex-lover made the atmosphere worse and helpless. Delivering is the only chance for that person to return, and it is the thing to heal from this despair.

11. Ben Chalatit

Ben Chalatit enjoys music from his passion and attendance at the School of Music. He joins the first music group with friends under the name, Monotone. In the style of self-composed music and become indie music that is very popular at that time. And the famous songwriter, Boyd Kosiyabong, pull him into the work. He has made many famous songs such as the people below, the score of life, ouch ouch, and many more. This is evidenced by the various artist awards that he has received.

The examples of famous songs by Ben Chalatit.

1. “Hold back” (2014) is the theme song for the 2014 TV series Sai-Si Phaeng. It mixes with emotions, squeezing a little talk about the time when you lost your lover and want to hold it as long as possible. A moment of just a second would be invaluable if he would be with us.

2. “All My Heart” (2015) is a theme song, Kao Bodin drama, starring James Mar and Matt Peeranee. It is a slow-fusion-pop-style song with the sound of Thai music and tells of loving someone with all their love. This song also earns him the 30th Golden Television Award for outstanding drama song.

12. Lydia Sarunrat

The princess of the R&B of the Thai music industry. She is a gorgeous singer, Lydia Sarunrat, with a clear and unique voice. It makes her famous since her first release, such as I am free, please call me back. And there are always new songs coming out. Later, she returns to the sumo mask singer show and won “The Mask Singer Season 2”.

The examples of famous songs by Lydia Sarunrat.

1. “I'm free, please call me back” (2005) is a sad song content. Because he calls her lover but he does not answer the phone and does not call back. There is a hint in the song saying, "are you really busy or there are other people”.

2. “Just make eye contact” (2018) is a sweet love song. It composes of a period drama, Buppesanniwat. The content of this song is rather sweet. Because it wants to convey that the eyes are the windows of the heart.

The examples of artists and their works. The author thinks that the reader may know or listen to some of their songs. The artists illustrated are quite famous for their outstanding works. If you have not listened to their music, I suggest you give it a try and I believe that you will be fascinated by their work.

In conclusion, R&B (Rhythms and Blues) music is a genre that can listen to over and over. It can make you feel relax. But if you know the content of the song, some songs can also have content that can hurt, bruise or cry. Nowadays, R&B music is mix with a wide variety of other genres. This genre of music is therefore widely known. This has resulted in many emerging artists making R&B music or mixing R&B music as well.

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 4 years

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The Governess and The Doctor’s Hunt for the Copper Beeches (3/4) | Platonic!Molly Hooper and Reader

Prompt: Poison

Fandom: BBC Sherlock

Words: 2401

A/N: Third part of Hunt for the Copper Beeches. No Sherlock x Reader, but there will be in the next part, which might be the last. Got carried away with this one, but there are more moments of Molly and Reader being a detective duo. Some of the plot is inspired by The Murder Pit by Mick Finlay. Fans of Doyle and Sherlock Holmes would like The Arrowood Mysteries. I’ve only read one book so far, and it’s pretty good and a bit darker.

For the first time in a long time, Molly called out of work to help you find the boys. You had asked Mrs. Hudson again to look after Rosie while you and Molly went hunting for the rest of the clues.

You had decoded the last message that you found in Birmingham and did a little research on the activities that have been happening in that area to figure out why John and Sherlock were there in the first place. They were following the trade routes for the black market, some being mere storefronts or market stalls.

One clue after the other, you and Molly hunted them down, decoded them, and became one step closer to finding the boys while also learning how those locations were connected. With each location and trace found, Molly wrote them down in a notebook, the clue paperclipped onto the corresponding page. When you weren’t looking, Molly would take pictures of the pages and send it to Lestrade.

The next message took you and Molly to the countryside, miles away from London. She sat next to you nervously, looking out the window of the train before looking down at her phone typing away.

“You sure we’re going to the right place?” Molly asked.

“That’s what the message that Sherlock left for us said.”

“And you’re sure it’s from Sherlock?”

You frowned, a sinking feeling in your stomach.. “Of… of course. I mean,” you sputtered, “Who else would it be? The clues were made in a way that only I would be able to decipher them and only Sherlock would know that…” You scratched your head and sighed. “Are we in over our heads? I thought we were so close and-”

“I’m sorry, (Y/n), I didn’t mean to make you second guess yourself. I just worry, you know, that’s my thing,” Molly said, squeezing your hand reassuringly, “I’m still going with you. We need those boys back at Baker Street.”

From the station, you and Molly had to take a cab to the next town. The driver had given the two of you a strange look. “No one really goes there,” he had said, “Only the locals go in and out of the town.”

Did the black market trail that the boys were following led them all the way out there? It was a small town where everyone knew everyone there. Which would likely mean that they won’t take kindly to strangers. One bar where all the labor workers hang out, one church for everyone to live in denial of all the not so innocent things they’ve done, one hospital that runs on nepotism and old practices, and always that one family that runs everything.

The cab dropped you off near the church before driving back to the other town as soon as he got his payment. You and Molly stuck closer to each other as you made your way over. If everyone knew everyone, then Sherlock and John would have stood out like a sore thumb. You hoped that talking to someone in the church would at least be more pleasant than fishing for answers from drunkards at the bar.

The church was small and musty, the candles weren’t lit, but there was enough lighting from the chandelier and the sunlight filtering through the stained glass windows. You slowly walked forward, passing through the pews towards the front.

A side door opened, revealing a graying haired priest. His light blue eyes studied the two of you for a moment before walking straight over to the confession booth. You looked over at Molly, wondering if you should go in. She drew her lips into a thin line as she frowned, not liking the idea of splitting even if you were in the same room. You both agreed that she should wait directly outside of your booth as a lookout, ready to signal you with a knock if something happens.

“I think you should show him the letter,” she whispered as the two of you walked over. “Only if he’ll see reason.” You nodded.

You slipped into the confession booth and the partition on the reverend’s side slid open.

“Now, what brings you here, child?” he asked.

“I think you know, Father,” you said, “Or else you wouldn’t have gone straight in here.” He stayed silent. “What can you tell me about the Copper Beeches farm?”

He sighed. “The Copper Beeches? Only that it’s run by the McGregor family that’s been living here for generations. They’re the main farmers in this town.”

“And they’ve contributed a lot to the town, I’ve seen,” you said, recalling the signs that you remember passing. McGregor park, McGregor Tavern, McGregor Hall. “All that money from farming?”

“That’s what they claim.”

“You don’t believe them?”

He let out another sigh. “My family has been here for just as long and many here goes along with what they want. It’s their farm that’s keeping this town afloat, they said. If I say anything, what will become of those who live here? The workers? The ones that can’t afford to leave?” The reverend shook his head. “I can’t say any more.”

“Father, one last question,” you pressed, “Please.”

“Okay.”

“There is a letter that was sent to my residence from the Copper Beeches Farm. I want you to read it in hopes that it’ll help you in your decision.”

You left the envelope on the bench and walked out. Molly quickly went to your side and you both walked out, leaving the reverend to his thoughts. Molly was right, though, it was dangerous for just the two of you, especially in a town like this. Residents gave you either a hard stare or a harsh glare whenever you passed by. No one else will readily be friendly with the two of you.

“Wait!” the reverend called out after you. You both turned, seeing him holding up the letter. “The church has a shelter where the two of you can stay for the night. We provide everything. This does not mean I’ve made my decision, just that in the meantime, we would need your help on a matter, if you’re willing.”

“Depends on the matter,” you said.

“Are either of you a doctor?”

“I am,” Molly said, stepping forward.

There were a few patients at the shelter that weren’t able to afford going to the hospital, so the church were doing all they could to take care of them. While it had been a while since Molly had dealt live patients, she could still identify whatever was ailing them. Luckily, they weren’t too severe that any of them needed surgery, just a lot of monitoring and medicine.

“If this letter is true,” the reverend said that night, “Then my decision will not come easy.”

“Of course, Father, I wasn’t expecting it to,” you said, eyes leaving him to watch Molly checking up on another patient. “But I knew that you cared about this town, which was why I gave you that letter.”

“What is the meaning of this letter, though?”

“There’s a lot going on at the Copper Beeches Farm than anyone realizes or refuses to see. Our friends had gone to help, you see, and they haven’t come back in weeks.”

“I see,” he said softly, “Be warned, the McGregors do not take well of being challenged. I’ve seen people disappear just for being in their way. The police are on their side and sweep these incidents under the rug. Whatever had happened to your friends, I pray that they did not suffer from the same fate.”

“Thank you, Father.”

That night, you and Molly went over your shared notes to decide what to do. The letter had been sent to John and Sherlock during their first few days of investigating the art black market trail signed with the initials E.M. from the Copper Beeches Farm. It was a concerning report of the activities within the town and that the McGregor’s are at the center of it all, including evidence that the missing people around town were, in fact, murdered.

“And how are all of these related to the McGregors?” you muttered.

“Maybe,” Molly said, “They’re using their produce shipments to help smuggle the items.”

You sucked in a breath, wondering why you hadn’t connected the dots before. “Of course! The stores that they sell the produce to are near art galleries, museums, and the docks.”

“Some of the patients here admitted that there had been businessmen that would travel in and out of town as well,” Molly added.

“I’m guessing our next stop is the farm.”

Molly sighed, pulling away from the notes to stretch. “Just the two of us? We know how dangerous they are.”

“That’s why we need to wait for the reverend’s answer.”

With that, you decided to rest, locking the door before turning off the lights. As soon as the two of you fell asleep, there was a creak on the old wooden boards of the outside hallway, the passing of a flashlight leaking under the door briefly, then it was gone.

You were yanked from your sleep by a hand shaking you furiously. You gasped awake, seeing Molly in a panic as she left your side to open the windows. She grunted as she tried to lift it up to no avail. It was then your sleepy brain registered the rancid smoke flowing into your shared room through the cracks of the floor boards.

You sprung into action, trying the door that was locked tightly from the outside, jiggling the door knob furiously before pounding on it, yelling for help. The smoke was creeping into your nostrils, making you gag as you stumbled over to Molly. Even with the two of you, it wouldn’t budge. You ran over to your bag, rifling through it until you found your pocket knife. You flipped it open, jamming it into the framing, hoping to pry it from its stuck position. It budged just an inch or two when you heard pounding at the door.

“Dr. Hooper! (Y/l/n)!” The reverend shouted.

“Father, there’s some kind of gas in here,” you said, digging out scarves from yours and Molly’s bags.

You handed one to Molly and wrapped one around your nose and mouth. Molly did the same and continued to get the window pane open, grabbing the pocket knife from you and managed to get it open all the way.

“The windows have bars over them,” Molly said, “We need to find the source of the smoke while they get that door open. The window would bide us time now that there’s air circulating.”

“The floor,” you said, looking around for something to pry the wooden planks.

The door shook as the others tried to shove the door open. You began to jump up and down, looking for any weak spots or loose boards. The smell still seeped through the scarf, but you tried to not breathe in too deeply. Two of the floorboards near the door rattled as you jumped on them. Molly kneeled next to you and helped you lift the boards up, revealing a leaking gas canister.

“Stand back!” A woman shouted from the other side of the door.

You and Molly shuffled back and watched as one of the nuns broke the door open with an axe. The Reverend rushed through with a gas mask and heavy duty gloves, picking up the gas canister and sealing it into a sturdy container that was quickly rushed outside. The others had opened the windows in every room, a rush of fresh air blowing in.

“Deal with this on a regular, Father?” you asked.

“Unfortunately,” he sighed, “Is everyone alright?” You looked over at Molly who nodded. “Good… I think… I’ll be helping you. This has been going on for far too long.”

The plan was to meet up with E.M. first, as they were the one to send the letter. With that, they could help you and Molly find the boys at the farm and hopefully, if all goes to plan, either Lestrade or Mycroft would turn up. You added Mycroft as a possibility, as it had to do with international smudging as well as general worry for his little brother, no matter how much he denied it.

The reverend knew who E.M. was and arranged a meeting at the church. You and Molly waited at one of the back rooms as a figure entered the church. They made their way over to the confession booth, heels clacking and echoing through the building. When the door of the confession booth closed, you walked out first and sat on one of the front pews, followed by Molly.

“I’m taking a long nap when all of this is over,” Molly muttered.

“Same. I don’t know how the boys do it.”

“Well, they’re practically adrenaline junkies.”

“True.”

A woman in a dull blue dress stepped out of the confession booth, scanning the pews until her eyes landed on the two of you. She walked over and sat next to Molly.

“Mister Holmes and Doctor Watson are being held in the basement of the McGregor estate,” she said in a hushed tone. “The farm’s being run by three brothers, two of them have wives, but they’re not allowed downstairs. The wives take care of the barn in the morning and two of the brothers go out into town for business.”

“Are you aware of what might happen when they are arrested?” you asked.

She nodded, head held high, but her hands were wringing together. You couldn’t help but note that her hands looked strong and had signs of callousness on her fingertips. “And I have a plan. The sooner we get rid of the McGregor brothers, the better.”

“No farm help?” Molly asked.

“There is, but they keep their head low, minding their own business. Most of them would leave with the brothers into town anyways.”

“Thank you for helping us.”

She simply gave another nod before heading out of the church. The reverend stepped out and sat at her vacated seat.

“She’s one of the wives, isn’t she?” you asked, watching her leave.

“Yes, Elise McGregor. She takes care of the people in town, but her husband only allows her to go out for church and grocery shopping.”

“No wonder she’s helping,” Molly said.

“Yeah, let’s start moving, then.”

#WritersMonth2020 #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock #molly hooper and reader #I really don't know the procedure of removing a gas canister but oh well #A day or two late but it's something

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