#nothing was gained from her infiltration of Spring

[hatredcurse]

유 || @hana-akari

A bitterly cold Winter was coming to a close. The warm winds of the East blanketed over the snow ridden land, opening the atmosphere for a tranquil Spring, or so the forecast seem to promise.

The last year of war was a relentless pursuit between several allied boundaries. Ties were severed, minor clans fell under the oppressive force of the Senju shogunate and equally so from the Uchiha side. Whatever scraps of clans that survived between the warring nations either surrendered to their captors, assembled into their previous allegiance, or disbanded up North away from conflict.

The Uchiha didn't gain much out of the fallen countries. Their fire affinity laid waste and scorched the Earth to blacken ashes, leaving nothing in their wake to salvage. They had previously made the mistake Senju affiliates. In their terror, they infiltrated Uchiha safehouses for secrets or gain and eventually sectioning back to Senju strongholds with their advantage. Madara saw that this mistake must never be repeated and took to absolute destruction to any land with previous alignment with either the Daimyo or the Senju, torching everything to the ground to save him the headache.

The harsh Winter put an abrupt halt to all operations on either side. Allowing a breather on the Uchiha end to gather supplies and seek footing politically both within the Daimyo and with minor clans in the Southern region.

Early morning, marking the 16th day of March on the calendar, Madara received a letter from one of his falcons. In their talons, a smaller dove ( which remained unharmed ) which transformed into a scroll whenever it dropped onto his low table.

Addressed to Clan Lord Madara, It comes with great honor that we offer our first, and only, born daughter in pledge to the Uchiha clan and its prosperity. In return, we ask for protection of the Uchiha forces and the guardianship within its realm. Please consider our offer. —Lord Haruno

Short, succinct, with no nonsense behind itself. He was impressed by how forward the leader seemed to be in address, but he knows such short form usually hinted at desperation. He folded this scroll back and sat it to the corner, contemplating its contents.

Little was known about the Haruno clan at time of offering. It wouldn't necessarily be difficult to procure more knowledge, but it was a question if he wanted to dawdle this opportunity. Without any immediate ties to the family, it is very possible that the lord could have sent multiples of this to other clans with different acknowledgements.

To save himself the time for what could be a potential hidden gem, Madara replied, with hesitation to accept such offer, but will entertain seeing the bride first before his final decision. He will open their gates to her, her retainers, and only necessary personnel. Naturally, additional promises to ensure her safety and comfort, as to not concern her guardian with her wellbeing.

Though, as easy as he was to offer her, the more the Uchiha lord doubted he cared all too much about her, rather cared more about her value as an asset.

Returning his message with a falcon of his own, Madara named a date and a time at which the gates will be open to meet her ( and an unmentioned army laying in wait should this family decide to be 'heroes' ).

#Madara ic #v. CROWNED EMPEROR OF TSUKUYOMI (Feudal Era) #closed starter #hana-akari

[the-iron-orchid]

Rimworld: Arcana, Part 12: Interesting Times

Heron high on that Doctor’s Sausage yo 🌭

Jinana wanna go bust some rocks of hir own lmao

Hmmm, I mean we could use some extra hands around here...

Dis bitch pretty good, actually, we have several people who are capable caregivers so that incapability doesn’t hurt. Passionate about Mining? Welcome aboard!

That’s fair, it’s been a tad dull around here...

The new arrival attends the party, and is already making some friends!

Neat! More on this later...

The two combatants we rescued earlier have recovered and gone on their way, gaining us quite a bit of goodwill from their faction.

...what the hell ass balls? (It’s a creature from a Caves mod lmao)

Turel continuing to make peculiar masterworks, very on-brand

Sigh. Well, at least we got her to mine like 1000 units of steel for us first!

Here’s how it went down: Jinana walked out of the clinic, all unsuspecting, and Conner bashed hir with the revolver - nothing Jinana can’t sleep off, really. (if the target is too close, a gun-using pawn will start using it melee-style lmao).

Meanwhile, Tsedi was coming back from the latrine, and shot this bitch dead without taking a single hit himself. MVP.

A cargo pod! It collapsed the cave around it and is impossible to retrieve. :D Thanks, Randy... (fortunately it’s just a normal steel longsword, nothing special)

Turel is so happy, he could just... cut somebody open 😅 (His Medical is actually very good, we just have no need for any surgeries right now...)

Augh! I’ve never had drop-pod raiders this early in the game before...

They land directly in Turel and Jinana’s bedroom (fortunately they were able to get out of the way before the roof collapsed). Heron jumps out of bed, sword at the ready...

Jett here immediately uses dynamite, taking out his raiding buddy in the blast. Heron chases him down while Julian runs around in panic, and Tsedi is coming round with his trusty Masterwork chain shotgun.

Looks like Tsedi got in a shot before that guy’s own ally exploded his fucking head and torso with dynamite. gj

Sadly, Turel’s Excellent-quality bed was destroyed, but we did get 54 Neutroamine out of it! (Remember, that is used to make medicine, and it is very hard to come by)

No sooner are we cleaning up the mess, then... geez, Randy, no fucking mercy huh?

Uh, we’re a little busy at the moment... also, aren’t you the guys that sent an infiltrator earlier? Eh, whatever, sure, send your crazed manhunting goats. We’ll see what happens when they run into these raiders 😂

Carnage. All manhunting goats are downed, and some of the raiders are fleeing. The rest are, predictably, making a beeline for our bug neighbors.

Also predictably, it does not go well for them. However, this guy got a weirdly lucky shot on the female Megaspider before he went down...

...and injured her brain, rendering her comatose. It’s possible to go rescue her when the male goes to sleep at night, but I’m not sure we can actually do anything for her. Her injuries are not severe enough for her to bleed to death, so I’m not sure what’s going to happen to her. She may eventually just starve. :c

The new block of rooms is proceeding apace - we can use these for anything from new colonists to makeshift holding cells to housing guests. However, we’re currently maxed out on power, and we’re going to have to build another generator, which consumes resources.

Spring has arrived, and the growing season begins in a few days. This time, we hope to:

Attract some bees

Grow enough rice and corn for the next winter

Cultivate some fruit trees

Before the next winter comes, we should build at least one greenhouse, so we have a more reliable source of winter food. We made it through the winter with enough food left to get by until spring’s first crop of rice is harvested... but just barely!

Will we finally get some bees? What will happen to the female megaspider? Find out next time!

#Jenjamin plays Rimworld #violence cw (raiders lol) #animal death cw (manhunter pack oops)

[savedennespoint]

Bruny Island land clearing unites locals in opposition, as developer and real estate agent fined

The sudden, unapproved clearing of land in a small coastal town on Bruny Island has left neighbours furious, with a property owner handed a $2,700 fine, before plans were submitted for a housing subdivision.

Trees were cleared by heavy machinery on a private block of land in Dennes Point, on the north coast of the popular tourist island, in July before vegetation burning occurred.

Neighbours say they were not informed beforehand, and argue it has resulted in fewer quolls, wallabies and native birdlife activity in the area.

The land clearing on the 3.5-hectare property resulted in the loss of three white gums — an important species for the survival of the critically-endangered 40-spotted pardalote.

The trees — which included she-oaks, pines and a dense understorey — were on a substantial slope, with a row of neighbouring houses at the bottom.

Suzie Perrott bought one of the houses two years ago for the tranquillity in retirement with her husband, with plans to move permanently from her current home in Campbell Town.

However, she said, everything had changed after the clearing occurred.

"I have photographs of our little cottage, and it just looks like we have a forest around it, it was so beautiful," Ms Perrott said.

"Now you can't see any of the trees. The animals, you don't see the animals jumping around the front yard anymore.

"It's very sad, it's really sad. I just can't believe it's happening."

Ms Perrott said she had concerns for water runoff without the vegetation as a buffer, with excessive pooling reported during heavy rain last spring.

The developer completed a landslide assessment in March — four months before the clearing — which noted a risk of less water infiltrating the soil should soil disturbance occur.

Neighbouring residents say they were not informed prior to the clearing and burning, including Justin Jones, who has lived at Dennes Point for 43 years.

He said the removal of the trees had impacted local wildlife.

"I've been here for 43 years, and the patch of land is very endearing to us because we all live around this, and we look for the wildlife. We know the wildlife is there," Mr Jones said.

"Now it's just a blank canvas … there's nothing anymore.

"If the developers want one house put there for themselves, put a house there, and the rest of the place, put it back to the way it was."

'You can't bring back the wildlife'

The development application for the 10-lot subdivision — with documents prepared for Hobart real estate agent and landowner Bec Owens — was advertised with Kingborough Council earlier this month.

It includes a bushfire hazard management report, prepared in December 2021, which notes that none of the white gums or she-oaks need to be removed, provided there was 2 metres of separation between canopies.

However, these were among the trees removed.

Kingborough Council has confirmed it issued the landowner Nick Owens with a $2,715 fine relating to the "unapproved" land clearing.

The amount is dictated under Tasmania's planning laws, with no discretion.

Neighbours on each side of the land are disappointed with the fine, believing it was disproportionate to the financial gain should the subdivision occur.

Mr Jones said the amount would not be a deterrent.

"What's $2,700 to birdlife? It's only money. You don't bring the birds back. You can't bring back the wildlife. It just defeats the purpose," he said.

Bruny Island is noted for providing a sanctuary for various endangered flora and fauna, due to its separation from mainland Tasmania.

This includes the critically-endangered 40-spotted pardalote, which solely relies upon white gum trees.

Commonwealth and Tasmanian government documents note that the removal of single trees can potentially impact the bird species.

'Could have been handled better'

Ms Owens refused to comment on the matter when contacted, with a statement released on behalf of fellow land owner Nick Owens.

"In July last year, as a response to a Kingborough Council abatement notice, we undertook works to remediate our site from bushfire risk and we removed introduced pine trees [a declared weed] and three gum trees in preparation to re-plant native species," the statement reads.

"With hindsight, we appreciate this was unsightly and this could have been handled better but are looking forward to the regeneration of [the] site with native species.

"The application we have lodged seeks to create 10 sensitively designed lots of up to 4,750 square metres in size on the 3.3 hectare site, which is already zoned residential, will have limited traffic implications as well as providing a public walking path, giving all the community a safe walking access to the beach."

Land clearing an ongoing issue

The land at Dennes Point did not meet the threshold for having significant conservation values, however, elsewhere in Tasmania, landowners are continuing to clear native forest — and wearing the subsequent fines.

In its latest annual report, the Tasmanian Forest Practices Authority (TFPA) noted that 180 hectares of land had been cleared in the state without approval during 2021-22.

The TFPA issued 21 fines totalling $657,500 — a significant increase on $390,000 from 12 months earlier, and a 600 per cent increase over a three-year period.

From 1996 to 2022, Tasmania has lost almost 160,000 hectares of native forest due to approved and illegal land clearing.

TFPA board chair Pamela Allan said unauthorised land clearing remained a significant problem in Tasmania — and that new approaches might be needed.

"There continues to be clearance of trees without first seeking advice on either the regulatory controls that exist or the necessary approvals required," she wrote.

"The authority is now considering rehabilitation orders to return the land to its natural vegetated state, as fines have not appeared to be a sufficient deterrent.

"Compliance and enforcement standards are being strengthened, however many forest operations undertaken on non-industrial private land continue to demonstrate a poor understanding of, or disregard for, the [Forest Practices Act] and the Forest Practices Code."

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#brunyisland #environment

[cadcnce-archived]

@psychcdelica​ sent:  To say Sae seems to be distracted lately would be an understatement, whatever her thoughts are seem to keep her preoccupied lately. When Wylan returns home one night, a candlelit meal awaits him with Sae dressed up nicer than usual, fingertips play and fidget as she invites him to join her. Her heart races as her mind works a mile a minute as she wills herself to calm down for this moment. Her nerves are shot and frayed and simple questions seem to fall on mostly deaf ears. It takes her a moment, and a hard drink of the red wine before she finds the courage to the next part of the evening. Her gaze falls on his handsome features, and then a blush burns her cheeks, but that moment of pure and blissful happiness helps her find her way before him, kneeling down in the traditional American way. 

"I love you Wylan, and I can't imagine my life without you. You, who makes me a better person, who drives me to be better. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I hope you feel the same way. Please, will you do the honour of marrying me?" Whilst her english is far from fluent, she has practiced long and hard just for this moment, just for him, and her hands draw forth a small box with a precious diamond ring cushioned in the middle, presented to him as she awaits his response.

Wylan will be looking back on this day as one of the more embarrassing ones in his life. Which is not something said lightly. The man has an arguable amount of shame contained in his body, with most experts agreeing that any traces to be found are ephemeral and inconsequential in the bigger picture of Wylan Rechtur. Despite all of his experiences and skills that he has gained and fostered as an infiltrator and assassin nothing could have prepared him for this evening. For he is, and ever shall be, a fool.

This man, this stupid idiot of a male example, had been under the itching paranoia that Sae was upset with him. Or the suspicion at the very least. Her apprehension at preparing for and eventually dropping the question over the previous several days had been interpreted as frustration. Distance. Disappointment. But why? Was it because he’d spent more time with coworkers? While he certainly had not been neglecting his girlfriend the growing notion that maybe he was(?) had begun to fester. Was he not doing enough?

The next stage was going to be panic or fall back into some very unhealthy forms of coping. Resisting that drive to follow his lover and track her like some criminal was frustratingly difficult in its own way. Did this mean that in response to her not trusting him… he wasn’t going to trust her? What would this solve? Why would this spring up after years of what had been a good relationship? Sae had been nothing but good for him. Saved his life at that, even if technically his objective could be summarized as an elaborate suicide back then. It was still something she pulled him from, woke him from, healed him from.

Thinking about life without her in it wasn’t something he wanted to consider. Apparently, Sae had a similar thought. Isn’t that ironic? And he didn’t see any of it coming.

A candlelit dinner can be one of two things. It can be romantic and classy, a humble way to bring ambience to a meal enjoyed with a romantic atmosphere with a small natural warmth to compliment that which thrummed in the respective chests of those attending. It could also be ominous? Well maybe if you’ve seen enough movies, horror or otherwise. The room is darker than normal. Especially with the shades drawn over the large windows that typically allowed the city lights of Tokyo to twinkle in like a manmade night sky. Imagine the mental hurdles Wylan is throwing himself through out of manufactured paranoia to even think about interpreting this with concern.

I’m so bad with relationships, aren’t I? He thinks to himself as he smiles to his lover, kissing her on the cheek before they set down for dinner. His questions receive vague or dismissive answers, only stoking the fire under the worm slinking its way through his gut.

“So what’s all this about? Didn’t realize it was gonna be a date night. Nice.” Laugh.

“Oh, yes. It’s a surprise.”

???

“Alright, ha, well thanks. It all looks great.”

“Thank you.”

…

“Yeah, sure babe. Good day at work? You must have gotten off pretty early to get all this ready for us.”

“Mm.”

Hhhhhh???

How does he interpret the expression on her features right now? The candlelight offers plenty of view, it’s not that she’s shrouded by a veil. So why is he so damn lost, what was going on? If this was a way to open into the we need to talk sort of situation it was new to him. Fuck. All of this was pretty damn new to him! Loving Sae was still relatively new to him, but it was something he for sure damn hell did not want to stop doing, for any reason whatsoever. He’s confused and nervous, and so is she. The question to him wasn’t the what but the why. Wylan is just setting down his own glass of wine when she takes the large drink of hers.

“Uh, Sae? Are you—” The answer he gets for any question that could have followed is her getting up from her spot opposite him. His words are on deaf ears as she makes her way around the table while Wylan’s heart makes its way around his intestines. Sinking. Sinking. What the fuck what the fuck what is going on? No cameras, no scripts, and not a single clue even as the woman who had his heart drops to one knee. No, it’s not until she starts speaking (in her lovely, accented English) that time can finally start moving again, first at a crawl, then speeding up beat by beat as realization melts through those stubborn layers and masks and seeps down into the broken glass inside his soul. Like molten lava into a mold, the empty space inside of him is suddenly refilled and locked together.

“…Huh?” Stupefied is a way to put it, the bewilderment on his features in response to the additional confession and subsequent proposal. He’s doubting his sanity and the reality of this moment, so directly contrasted it was with his apprehensions and fears. “You want to… with me?” A beat. “Really?” The ring is a beauty, diamonds in a handsome band that catches the candlelight like a firestorm. But that doesn’t even matter to him. Jewelry is jewelry. The real storm is the sentiment of it being offered, her desire to have him. Well. What else could she have wanted? What else did he want? Did he not just have that argument in himself that was fueled by the fear of not having Sae in his life? There shouldn’t be hesitation here. This is what he wanted more than anything else, the fact he hadn’t even thought about marriage is yet another instance of stupidity in a ridiculous card game where each hand feels like a joke.

Figures that Sae had all the cards ready. And now she was giving him the winnings. No, not that. She was going to share all of that with him. God damnit. This was really happening, wasn’t it? Sae Niijima had just proposed to the fool and charlatan of a former assassin. He doesn’t deserve this, but he’s not stupid enough to pass up an opportunity to do something he never thought possible.

His vision is blurred, and it isn’t until the first tear rolls down his cheek that he realizes he’s crying and that his chest is starting to shudder with encroaching convulsions as his lungs fight for air as his heart fights its way up through his gut and up his throat. A blazing race physically and mentally that culminates into a sobbed reply.

“What the fuck- Get off the—come- come here!” Sae’s hand is gripped as Wylan pulls her up into his arms, lips crashing into hers and kissing greedily over and over again. He’s not sure whether he’s laughing, crying, or something else in between presses and breaths. Finally after a moment he stops, his forehead resting against hers, eyes closed, heart full and seamless. 

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

#psychcdelica #psychcdelica :: sae #make her the cutest that i've ever seen :: sae x wy #inbox :: answered ic #:: saved #making sure this one has a special bookmark in it... #because holy fuck fellas #she did it #the madwoman is ringing this dumbass #what a fucking idiot!!!

[otonymous]

A Bolt From The Blue (MLQC Shaw - NSFW) - Part III: Near & Far

Description: Promising beginnings and a premature end throw you into a tailspin Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language & mature themes — reader discretion is advised.  Potential trigger warnings: depictions of mild PTSD symptoms, mentions of death of a close family member, disappearances, “breakups,” angst, profanity Word Count: 1882 words (~9 mins of falling in love and wallowing in angst 😱😂) Author’s Notes: If you’re still following this story, please accept a giant (virtual) hug from me to you!  Thank you very much from the bottom of my heart for supporting me and this piece of work! 💖 Without further ado, I present to you part 3 of my slow-burn Shaw fic, written for the lovely @op-peccatori​ as part of my follower milestone celebration.

As always, dear reader, please note the potential trigger warnings listed above, and happy reading! 😊

Jump to Chapter(s): One | Two | Four

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

“You can relax, you know.  I won’t try anything funny while you sleep, not my style.  Besides, isn’t this much better than camping out on the floor?”

Nodding your head before you realize that Shaw probably couldn’t see you in the dark, your “Yes” comes out in a mewl so pathetic you wished you could immediately take it back.

His snicker shakes the bed, reverberating across squeaky springs to where you lay beside him, right at the edge of the twin mattress as you tried not to let your hands touch.

No matter how much you wished for them to.

Beyond the window, a neon signboard paints electric shadows on your walls in splashes of pink, flashing in time to a rhythm Shaw tapped out with one foot beneath the covers.

“Is it cool if…if we didn’t draw the blinds tonight?  I can’t sleep in complete darkness.” He had asked you earlier that evening, towelling off his hair as he emerged from your bathroom wearing a shirt your ex had left behind along with your broken heart a year and a half ago.

Snoopy looked much better riding his skateboard across Shaw’s broad chest anyways.

And there, in the midst of an awkward arrangement where sleep would surely prove fleeting, the sounds of the night: the low hum of the refrigerator, the pawn shop’s sign buzzing just on the other side of the windowpane…the tick-tock of the clock on the wall, steady like Shaw’s breath beside you as it counts down precious time—

“I’ll be out of your hair first thing tomorrow morning.”  

Ba-bump.

“No, there’s…there’s no rush.  Honestly.”

“Can you really afford to miss more work because of me?”

Silence.  You couldn’t refute the truth.

“Tell you what, in exchange for putting up with me, you can ask me anything you want.  I’ve seen the way you look at me sometimes; surely you must be curious about some things.  Might as well find out before I go.”

Your stomach knotted, clenching tight.  He was right.  For all you know, it was now or never.  “Why did you join?  The triad, that is.”

He is silent for a moment, as if trying to find the right words to piece together.

“I’m looking for my brother.”

Out of all possible answers, this wasn’t one you were expecting.  Turning onto your side, you study the handsome profile of his face — watching as pink mixed with lavender in the most ethereal way until you were overcome with the sense that in this vast ocean of life, you and him stood on very different shores.  Eyes still fixed on your ceiling, Shaw continues.

“He was an undercover cop, working to infiltrate the ranks of the group I’m currently a part of.  I only found out by accident, and he made me swear up and down not to breathe a word of it to mom.  Then one day…he was gone.  Just...disappeared off the face of the earth.  Mom and I went down to the station every day for months, knew the names and faces of everyone who worked in that building, but it was like Gavin never even existed.

“It was too much for her.  I came home late from school one day — found her on the floor, barely breathing.  It was dark in the apartment…so dark.  She had probably just drawn the curtains.  By the time the paramedics arrived, she was already gone.  Heart attack, they said.  

“I lie awake at night sometimes, wonder how I’m going to tell him that mom’s no longer here — go through the motions in my head, rehearsing every line.  ‘Cus I know that sooner or later, that day will come.  There’s no way he’s dead.  I know my brother.”

A glimmer at the corner of his eye catches yours.  Beneath the covers, your fingers inch towards his, finding courage in the darkness to brush against his pinky as if the sliver of warmth could express what words simply couldn’t convey.

“With mom gone, there was nothing to lose.  I joined the group, worked hard…did what they needed me to do to gain their trust, all while collecting scraps of info here and there — whatever I could get my hands on in the hopes that it’ll lead me to Gav.”

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.

Tiny drops of rain speckle your windowpane.  And when Shaw’s finger hooks around yours as if in a solemn pinky swear, the tears burning your eyes finally fall.  You don’t ask him how many years it’s been, the dirty deeds he’s had to sully his hands with.  You don’t question him about the father he doesn’t mention.  All you can do is watch as a solitary drop rolls down the side of his face before soaking into lavender strands fanned out on the pillow, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows back bitterness only he knew.

In spite of it all, he is the one who chuckles when he turns towards you, eyes red rimmed even as his brows rise in feigned exasperation when he says, “Why are you crying?!  I’m the one with the tragic past here!”

And when you start to cry even harder, his soft hushes of “Shh, shh…I’m sorry, that last part was a joke.  It’s all right, everything will be okay, I promise,” burrows deep into your heart and you believe him.

Because when he reaches towards you — the thumb wiping the tears from your eyes calloused yet gentle — you are struck by a sense of overwhelming tenderness:

In the carefulness of his touch.

In the way he regards you with the sincerity of some unspoken emotion.

In the entirety of this man whom the rest of the world has already written off.

And that is when you know…

“I didn’t mean to make you cry by telling you all this, I’m sorry.”

…that you are in love with him.

“I’ll make it up to you.  Ask me another question.  Maybe something less depressing this time.”  

A smile spreads across his face.  You wished there was a way for you to keep the warmth of his hand on your cheek forever.  Sniffling, you try again.

“Wh-why did you keep coming in to my store everyday?  There’s a lot of other convenience stores in the area—”

A flash of panic in those amber eyes, and Shaw is turning over with lightning speed until all you can see is the smooth expanse of his back.

“Changed my mind.  A guy’s gotta keep some secrets!  Goodnight!”

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

Wrap your arms around the pillow.

“Good girls shouldn’t concern themselves with bad boys.”

Bury your face into its cushiony fill.

“Or have you forgotten that I’m wanted by the police?”

And inhale deeply.

Shaw’s scent on your sheets is faint now, so much so that you can’t be entirely sure you’re not imagining it, having gone through this ritual countless times since the day Shaw left your apartment…

…and stepped out of your life.

                   *                                         *                                          *

“Is there…any way I could stay in touch with you?  I-I just…just want to make sure you’re okay…”

Voice trailing off, you watch as Shaw gingerly shrugs one arm then another through the sleeves of his leather jacket, still wearing the Snoopy t-shirt he had slept in the night before after you told him he could keep it.  His own was torn beyond repair, stubbornly dyed in blood regardless of how much you scrubbed at it.  And when he hesitated still, you said he would just be doing you the favour of taking out the trash.  

Smoothing down the front of his jacket, Shaw glances at the phone in your hands — eyes tracing along your eager fingers, poised to type.  The expression on his face is unreadable, as if the man you had spent the night sharing secrets with was nothing more than a figment of your imagination.

“It’s better if we don’t.  I’ll be fine, just laying low for the next while — boss’s orders.  And I don’t want the cops coming around to your place again.  Detective Whatshisname looks like he could be really good at hounding pretty girls like you.”

That smirk again, so familiar to you by now.  And in the compliment that would’ve made you blush bright red before, nothing but a smokescreen.

“Shaw, I don’t mind—”

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?" The force in his voice cuts, and you barely breathe to feel his finger curl beneath your chin, tilting up your face until you have no choice but to meet his gaze.  Those eyes are dull, like molten gold frozen beneath a layer of impenetrable ice.  “Good girls shouldn’t concern themselves with bad boys.  Or have you forgotten that I’m wanted by the police?”

The shiver that runs electric down your spine makes the hairs on your skin stand on end.  It was like looking at a stranger.  Heart racing, your palms grow clammy with sweat, unsure of exactly when your phone had dropped from your hands, slipping away like…

“I don’t care about the cops!  I’ll deal with them—”

“DEAL WITH WHAT?!  You think that just because you managed to turn them away at the door that it makes you a hardened criminal?!  WE are not the same, okay?  My life is worthless.  I’ve already signed it away a long time ago, I’m ready to give it up without a second thought.  But you…you’re different. Y-you’re kind, innocent.  You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.  One day, you’ll make someone the luckiest person in the world, be a beautiful mother to beautiful children.  Don’t sell yourself short…not for someone like me.”

The silence that descends is thick, suffocating.  You don’t speak, afraid to open your mouth because it takes all your concentration just to keep the tears from spilling from your eyes.

Finally letting go of your chin, Shaw reaches behind his neck to undo the clasp on the thin gold chain he wore, the jade disc pendant that hung from it still warm from the heat of his skin when he places it in the palm of your hand.

“It’s not much, but it was a gift from my mom and the most valuable thing I own.  You saved my life, so it’s yours now.  Maybe…maybe one day, you can give it to your own child.”

Lump in your throat, you can barely breathe, let alone tell him there was no way you could accept something that precious, something that priceless.  That you didn’t drag him home that night, broken and bleeding, in the hopes of gain; not for money, not for love.

He curls your fingers around the heirloom, gentle thumb pressing on index, middle, ring then pinky in turn before your fist finds itself held tightly within the press of his much larger hand for one…two…three seconds…

…before those purple Chuck Taylors take him to your door…

Slam.

…and just like that, the man with the lavender hair is gone.

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

Forgive me for trolling, but there really was only one bed LOL!  Hope you all enjoyed the latest chapter, and please stay tuned for what may be the final instalment in this Shaw saga! - XOXO

Jump to Chapter(s): One | Two | Four

Thanks so much for reading! 💕 Check out more of my work here! 📚(Please do not repost/copy/alter my work.  Reblogs, on the other hand, are a-ok and much appreciated! 👍🏼💖)

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mr love dream date #evol x love #mlqc shaw #mlqc ling xiao #mlqc shaw smut #mlqc shaw fic #mlqc fic #my writing #fanfiction #elex

[eivorsjawline]

Trigger warning: smut and talk of blood/open wound.

You take a medieval bath in the opening of this chapter in the safe space of a close friends estate. When you return to the settlement you’re greeted by Eivor with a sweet bouquet. You both head back to your room and having a little one on one time before getting disrupted by someone at the door.

Chapter 5: Sweet Escape

Readers POV

Bjorn ended up bringing me to whom he calls Erke’s living quarters. One of the servants made a bath for me to clean myself off, it had been so long since I had a nice bath. The servant filled an ewer with fresh spring water, heated it up then poured it into a large wooden tub. Careful to not step in too early, I waited and let the steam hit my face.

I started to strip my clothes off and after a while of letting the water cool down, I poured a pitcher of the warm water over my hair. A bucket lay nearby for me to place any of the now dirty suds. I ran some of the soap through my hair and began to scrub afterwards rinsing it out. Wrapping my hair in a linen towel, I stepped into the tub and started scrubbing my body all over.

It's insane to think of how we take for granted the small things in the modern world. I soaked in the tub worrying about the settlement and how Eivor was handling everything. Though I'd never seen her in battle, I imagined she fights like a true warrior. Even in modern times Eivor would be considered strong and brute. However, my wandering mind still managed to come up with dreadful worries and scenarios.

Though I didn’t want to leave the bath, the water began to cool down a little too much for my liking so I stepped out onto a towel on the ground. I started to rub myself dry with the extra towel getting my legs, chest and arms. An assortment of oils and herbs in jars lay on the table near me. I washed my face with some more soap and water residing in a basin and then doused my face in rose oil, afterwards removing the towel from my head. Feeling clean and fresh, I pulled a long tunic over me along with a pair of undergarments and headed towards my room.

Erke’s furry friend Tibert, a chubby orange striped cat joined me alongside the bed and begged me for pets. Since I was here alone basically, I might as well have someone accompany me while I slept tonight. I blew out the candles next to my bed and rested my head on the fluffy feather pillows. There was no way I was getting any sleep tonight but I still tried, until the bone shattering emotion of loneliness covered me. Since I’d arrived I missed my home, I missed my friends too, the technology, and even the food. Nevertheless, I missed Eivor more than anything else.

My eyes began to water and then I heard creaking footsteps near the door. It was so late, who could possibly be here at this time? With a knock on the door I heard Bjorn’s voice asking me if he could come in. I jumped up from bed and opened the door from him, hoping for news on Eivor and the settlement.

“It’s not looking good. We have to relocate the camp completely.”

His words shattered my heart and made my already disheveled mind worry even more. I started to pace around the room and my anxiety set in. Myself and war had not been acquainted yet due to the sheltered life I’d lived compared to these people.

“What about Eivor? Please, tell me she’s okay.”

“Eivor is fine, for Randvi I cannot say the same. She was struck and the wound is very bad. I'll take you to the new location in the morning, you must rest here for tonight. Eivor instructed me that I stay and keep watch for you.”

Even from afar I felt protected by Eivor. Although relieved I didn't have to be alone tonight, I felt bad for Randvi. I hoped she would be okay even if she didn’t care much for me. She was very strong, stronger than I could ever be. Bjorn and I conversated a bit about where the location will be before saying goodnight and heading to bed. I closed the door and noticed Tibert still laying there. Swooping the covers over my legs, I snuggled up with my new furry friend and tried to rest but I knew damn well I wouldn't be getting any of that tonight.

Eivors POV

The next morning

I woke up in the morning and the first thing I felt was the soreness of the cut in my arm. Blood ran through the linen covering my wound overnight. Letting out a groan, I reached over the table next to my bed for the medicine that Valka gave me and applied it to the cut before cleaning myself and rebandaging.

The new settlement was surprisingly nice. A larger pond to the west of the new longhouse, good for fishing. The land was more vast and colorful flowers grew by the riverbank. When sunset came you could see the light hit just over the valleys and the bushes and trees grew with the greenest of leaves and ripest fruits. Almost everything was finished setting up with the exception of a few huts.

My head pounding from little to no sleep, I decided to go check on Randvi. I figured Valka was probably keeping a close eye on her so I headed there. Valka’s hut was just East of the longhouse and across, a closer span than Ravensthorpe. On my way there I couldn't help but to think of [y/n] and how I missed her. I wish I could have been with her last night but I had to get the people to safety first, all I could do was send Bjorn with her.

Walking into the seer's hut I could smell her cooking some sort of potion, the smell of lavender filled the air. Randvi lay next to her, the life in her eyes seemed to be returning. She lost so much blood, but she fought through it. Kneeling down to get to her level, I saw the corners of Randvi’s mouth form a smile as if she were happy to see me for once.

“You look better than ever.”

“Oh, stop it.”

Randvi let out a small laugh then thanked me for helping her last night. She explained that she tried to fight back but she was far too late for the Picts had already infiltrated the camp. Our conversation was brisk but for the first time I felt a genuine friendship forming between the two of us and a mutual respect. Valka joined in saying Randvi should be back on her feet in no time.

Perhaps even through all of this, we lost nothing and only gained. Today was a bright sunny day and those days were very rare in this green land. After one of the worst storms I’d ever seen, today was a new day. Since we moved further south west into the country, there was no need for a heavy cloak at least for today. I settled for an embroidered gray tunic rolling up the sleeves, a pair of brown linen trousers and secured them with a belt afterwards, lacing up my usual boots.

Looking out the window, I saw [y/n] leave Valka’s hut. I presumed Bjorn sent word of what happened. Quickly, I combed through my hair, fixed my braids and snuck out the back of the longhouse. Some red and blue flowers grew by the backyard and I began to pick some off the vines, creating a small bouquet.

This feels stupid, yet I cant help myself.

I gripped the bouquet in one hand and hid it behind my back, straightening my posture before approaching her.

A cheeky smile formed on her face when her eyes met mine and a grin escaped me.

“Eivor, how are you feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here.”

Grabbing her by the waist with my free hand, I pulled her in for a peck on her soft lips. Slowly, I revealed the flowers I picked for her and she looked down at the ground as if flustered by the small gesture.

“For me? That's so sweet…”

Exchanging the flowers from my hand she stood up tall to reach for a kiss and with a bend of my knees our lips met once again. Our hands clasped one another and I led her to show her around the new settlement then finally our new room in the longhouse. We exchanged some more passionate kisses in private before stopping and snuggling on the bed.

“There is something I wanna talk to you about.”

After hearing my words she repositioned herself, ready to listen to what I have to say.

“Of course, what is it?”

“Be honest with me, do you miss the future?”

“With every fiber of my being, there is so much that I miss. Everyday, I realize there is something that I miss about my time.”

I reached to stroke the hairs on the back of my neck and avoided making eye contact. The weight of her words hit me hard, to think she was in a foreign place with no one she knows. Noticing the change in my body language, she nudged my shoulder.

“There something else. Tell me the truth and look at me.”

“You want to go back, don't you?”

She placed her small hand over mine and pushed herself closer to me.

“Even though I miss it, I would give up all of that to stay here with you.”

I let out a sigh of relief and placed my hand on her thigh.

“Prove it, then. Show me how much you’ve missed me.”

Readers POV

Letting out a chuckle, I pushed Eivor on the bed and started to kiss her neck. Eivor let out a soft moan underneath me and started to caress my body over the tunic I was wearing. Already trying to reach for my shirt to pull it off, I pinned her hands back and gave her a passionate wet kiss. Eivor bit my bottom lip and started to squirm underneath me. She had all the strength to push my hands back but she let me hold her down instead. The heat radiating off our bodies grew as Eivor started to grind her pelvis underneath me, my legs wrapped around her.

I released her hands and started to explore her body, placing kisses on her collarbone. I lifted her shirt off and started to toy with her breasts, rubbing one of her pink nipples between my fingertips and my tongue making circles around the other whilst looking her in the eyes. Eivor moaned my name and arched her back as I continued to tease her. I ventured lower in between her rib cage and then back up, the tip of my nose rubbed against her ivory skin.

One of my hands ran up and down her torso as my fingers played with her belt buckle. From the downwards view I had of her I caught a glimpse of her biting her lip. After undoing her belt one notch at a time, I pulled her pants off along with her underwear as she lifted her body to aid me. Her subtle happy trail glimmered in the sunlight. Appreciating her body, I started to kiss her inner thighs and watched as Eivor melted into the bed. I pressed my fingers and massaged the folds of her labia, noticing she was even more wet for me than last time.

“Is this what you want, my wolf?”

Sticking my tongue out and swirling against her hole, I made sure to get a good taste of her. Eivor’s moans grew heavier and she pulled the hairs falling onto my face to the side to get a better view of me eating her out. My tongue started to focus on her swollen clit and began to flick with vigor. Eivor threw her head back trying to keep her eyes open as she spread her long legs wide for me to feast on her. My middle and ring finger slid into her wet pussy and started working her from the inside. Her walls clenched tight around me as I pounded and curled. Pulling my body up for Eivor to taste herself on my tongue, my fingers remained inside her but back to a steady pace. Eivor grabbed my face to kiss me harder and moaned in my mouth.

“You’re gonna make me cum all over you if you keep fucking me like that.” She whispered in my ear with her raspy deep voice.

While our tongues clashed, I stretched my fingers as far as I could and pounded her into oblivion with all the strength I had. I felt Eivor’s muscles twitch and saw her chest start to convulse as her cum coated my fingers. I pulled out of her and let her watch me lick my fingers clean. With no time to catch our breaths Eivor began to strip my clothes off one by one before pinning me down on my stomach onto the bed.

“How dare you fuck me with all your clothes still on!”

She pulled my arms back and latched onto my wrists kissing the back of my neck. Her firm authoritarian grip and the stretching of my back muscles and arms caused me a miniscule amount of pain that made me want her to really have her way with me.

“Mmm, what are you gonna do about it?” I let out a moan and gave her a cheeky grin.

Before I knew it Eivor’s hand met my bare ass with a slap, the sting making me moan out loud. My back arched and with small breaks she spanked me again and again. My eyes closed but quickly opened when I felt Eivor’s wet tongue start fucking me from inside, her rough hands grabbing onto my now red ass cheeks. Switching her focus she started to flick her tongue fast on my clit, almost making me climax. Eivor pulled herself up and started whispering in my ear.

“Oh, you better not cum yet… Such a dirty girl, letting me fuck you like this. You’re so damn loud, everyone will hear you.”

She cupped my mouth with the palm of her hand and muffled my moans, her other hand teasing the entrance of my soaking wet cunt. She slipped two long slender fingers inside of me, stretching me nicely, sliding from the tip of her fingers down to her knuckles with a steady pace. Her fingers twisted inside of me, making sure she filled me as deep as possible.

Eivor’s hot breaths onto the back of my neck sent chills down my spine. The sounds of her pounding me from behind and my suppressed moans were all that could be heard. Eivor didn’t care how loud she made me moan, only for the pleasure that she gave to my body and neither did I. The stress of the outside world quieted as we released onto one another.

A knock on the door interrupted us and suddenly we stopped, turning to one another with evil grins. Trying not to laugh, we rushed to put our clothes back on. Before now, I had never got dressed faster. Eivor fixed her shirt and fastened her belt buckle, fixing her hair. Feeling a little flustered, I ran to hide behind the door so whoever was behind it couldn’t see me in the room. Clearing her throat, Eivor straightened up and switched from her playful demeanor to her serious one before opening the door.

Eivor’s POV

“Well, don't stop now that I’m here. Continue just as you were, Wolf-Kissed...”

“Rollo, long time no see my good friend!”

Thankfully, Rollo was never one to judge people for what they do behind closed doors. After we gave one another a friendly embrace and exchanged a few jokes, our conversation turned to more important matters. So distracted from [y/n] returning, I completely forgot we had discussed plans for a raid this evening. Peeking past the door I noticed [y/n’s] face changed from an impudent smile to a sour expression. I told Rollo to give me a moment and wait outside before closing the door.

“You’re already hurt, why go on a raid?”

“I'm not sure how things are where you’re from, but this is normal. We lack resources, It’s what must be done. I'll be careful, just for you. Besides, plenty of others will be at my side.”

She crossed her arms and tilted her head while looking down.

“Also, what's this? I found it in your belongings when I was packing up my bedroom.”

I reached into a bag that held the clothes I found her in and a rectangular platform that lit up when held to the light. I shook it and gave it a bang on the table to see if It would do something else before she reached and grabbed it out of my hand.

“Dont! Holy shit, that's my phone!”

Your what?

After entering some sort of code, she swiped the strange gadget and It appeared as if she unlocked something on it.

Looks complex...

“There’s still some power in it, no service of course. Eivor, come here and look.”

Though confused, I took a look and she showed me an assembly of what she called, “pictures” of her previous life. She looked different and the world around her looked different. She showed me pictures of her with friends, and places she traveled to. My curiosity grew more from what she showed me. We don't have anything like this, so any doubts I had about what she told me completely disappeared. A loud bang on the door interrupted us, I assumed Rollo was getting impatient.

Damn, I have to leave.

I gave her a kiss and reassured her everything would be okay before leaving through the door.

#fem!eivor #fem eivor #eivor x reader #female eivor #ac valhalla #fan fiction #assasins creed #assasinscreed #writers on tumblr #series #reader insert

[rwbyvein]

Firen Lhain: Chapter 607: The Conspiracy:  Part I/III

Jaune sat on the floor of the gym, and gestured to the others to join him. Ren quickly came to sit with him. Qrow sauntered over. Oscar and Ilia nervously walked over, whereas Aurora elegantly kneeled down.

"So?," Jaune said, "while the girls are training upstairs?.."

"I'm..." Ilia asked, and then looked at Aurora, "we're... not girls?.."

"Well, yes." Jaune voiced, "but you're part of the conspiracy."

"The conspiracy?" Oscar nervously asked, "over the death of Ozpin?"

"Much more important." Jaune said, causing Oscar's face to fault with shock.

"If I could save us some time?" Aurora asked, and Jaune gestured to her. "The conspiracy of wedding rings."

"I think we're more of a fellowship." Qrow grumbled, and then gestured to Ilia and Aurora, "No offence."

"So, the trouble is," Jaune continued, "rings are REALLY expensive, and the only money we have is either with Weiss, which we would need Weiss' approval on, and it would be really weird to use her own money on it, and the money team JNRR earned on the way to Mistral, which yeah, I'm in charge of, but we agreed to share it. So?.." Jaune asked.

"We're Huntsmen." Qrow stated, "The Kingdom is desperate right now, so we could pick a job that will let us get back before the girls finish shopping."

"Will they take that long?" Ren asked.

Qrow sighed, "Yang considers bikini's to be a form of battle armour, and Weiss is a Schnee, so chances are she's just as persnickety."

"We prefer the term Weissy." Jaune said.

"It comes from a place of affection." Ren stated.

"Yeah..." Qrow voiced, "I doubt I'll be able to get away with that."

"So, while Aurora is away keeping the girls busy." Jaune voiced

"Got it." Aurora replied.

"We go on a hunt." Jaune finished.

Oscar squeaked, trying to speak but failing.

"Easy, kid." Qrow said to him, "You still have a long way to go before you're ready for that. It will be me, Blondie, Quiet... and... don't have a nickname for Ilia yet."

"All Ilia has to do," Jaune voiced, "is tell the girls she's not comfortable with the group yet."

"And then resist Nora's attempts to abduct her." Ren added.

"Nora can be... enthusiastic..." Jaune voiced.

Jaune then held his arm into the centre of the circle. Ren quickly moved his hand out to join him. Aurora moved hers in. Qrow slowly added his hand. Ilia nervously put her hand in. Oscar breathed in deep before putting in his hand.

"And?.." Oscar asked, "what... do I do?.."

"I don't know?.." Qrow asked, "Join the girls."

"DON'T!" Jaune shouted, and then looked at the stairs, hoping no one had heard him. He then breathed in deep. "As someone who grew up with seven sisters, you do NOT want to go swimsuit shopping with a large group of them."

"I recommend training or meditation." Ren stated.

"That..." Jaune voiced, "would help you get at peace with your... uh... friend..."

"Alright!" Qrow said, "We have a plan. Now all we have to do is pretend to train until they take off."

"Pretend?" Oscar asked.

"By his tone..." Ren voiced, "I doubt he's sincere."

"What?" Qrow asked as he stood up, "You don't trust this old man?!"

"I trust my ability to follow your smell..." Oscar voiced as she stood up, "But... Oz... has put... so much faith in you..."

* * *

Ruby stood to look out over the patio and unfolded her scythe, planting the base on the ground. "Now that training is out of the way! SWIMSUITS!"

"I like your spirit, li'l sis." Yang said to her.

Weiss walked up to Ruby, "Must you always be so over dramatic?"

"Don't tell me you don't like little sis that way." Yang voiced.

"I..." Weiss voiced, "have grown - accustomed to it." she then arrived beside Ruby, looking out with her over the city, and wrapped her arm around Ruby's waist. Weiss then let go and looked back, "And now all we need is..." Weiss trailed off and turned to look as Aurora walked onto the patio. "Yes." Weiss stated.

"She's like really good at that." Yang added.

"I had the best teacher." Aurora added.

"Hm?" Weiss asked.

"Klein, of course." Aurora said, "He's the only one in the mansion other than yourself, Mistress, who treated me with any kindness."

"He was..." Weiss voiced, "good at that..."

"What about Ilia?!" Nora exclaimed.

"She... said... she would not... be comfortable... joining us..." Aurora voiced.

"But!.." Nora said, as she turned towards the house.

"Jaune said she will come around with time." Aurora said to her.

"Leader said that?" Nora asked.

"Perhaps buy her something as a token of appreciation."

"Good thing I was able to offshore my assets." Weiss stated.

* * *

The old woman with her gossamer wings stepped into the room, carrying a pile of clothing. She placed it on the bed, and turned to leave, closing the door behind her. Cinder slipped from the bed, still nude, and examined them. The dress was similar to what she had before, if a little more chique. The underwear seemed extremely expensive.

* * *

Arthur Watts spoke into the Seer. "Now, before I make my report, let us remember that while our political influence in Mistral is still considerable, we have no fighting assets here, whatsoever. What, with Hazel going to try and rescue the White Fang."

"You don't exactly sound very enthusiastic." Salem said from her own Seer.

"They are savages." Arthur stated. "And if anyone can rescue the White Fang... it's not Hazel... Now, about Mistral, the girls are going downtown to do a bit of shopping. Most of the boys are going on a hunt. This leaves Oscar alone in the house." Salem eagerly stared into the seer. "With Qrow Branwen with them, the best we could do is... make the hunt a bit more challenging. This would only increase their payment for the mission. For the girls, unless you want to do something more wholly audacious, there is not much we can so. As for Oz's latest incarnation, we don't know how much of Oz's power he has access do, but he was hardly a naïf at Haven. Before that it took a Maiden to take him down. And unfortunately, ours has yet to return."

"You always hated Cinder." Salem stated.

"She is ferocious and determined, but..."

"But?!" Salem asked.

"She has failed time and time again."

"What have I told you about?.."

"How many relics has she gotten us?" Arthur asked.

"She DID kill Oz..." Salem nearly spat.

"Which she could have done a lot more quietly."

"Oh - really?.." Salem asked.

"She was an emissary from Mistral. That could have easily gotten her alone in Ozpin's tower."

"She did destroy the CCT." Salem stated.

"Which her own infiltration of the CCT proved it could have been done a lot more quietly. The most suspicious thing about it was that our deep cover agent was the one to do the sabotage. If it had not been Cinder, whom one of the Eyes recognized as the one who nearly killed the Fall Maiden, and is still very much alive, by the way, there's no way they would have known who did it. All Cinder did was bring a bunch of craven savages to cause as much of a disturbance as possible. And, the more we claw at the masquerade, the less they have to gain by keeping it."

"What do you - suggest?" Salem asked.

"Right now?" Arthur asked, "Do nothing. They are headed to Atlas, so we mass our forces on the way.

"And if they try to avoid us?.." Salem asked.

"We mass our forces there, as well." Arthur simply stated. "The loss of the White Fang is of little consequence, as they have no significant presence in Atlas. Atlas is a bit more willing to admit how little they think of the Faunus."

"And Cinder?" Salem asked.

"There is one thing we have to prepare ourselves for." Arthur stated, "Neither Cinder, Raven, nor the Spring Maiden returned from the reliquary."

"So?!" Salem asked.

"If they died," Arthur voiced, as he leaned into the Seer, "who would they be thinking about?"

With this Salem recoiled, shear anger on her face, and the connection quickly broke.

"That's what I thought." Arthur said to himself, as he interwined his fingers.

#rwby #firen lhain #faunus au #pollinated knight

[dragoler]

Embrace the Void - An Optimistic Outlook

This is a theory post about Hollow Knight and contains spoilers, so if you haven’t completed the game you should probably not read this post. This was originally posted to Reddit but i’m putting a copy here too. It is my belief that the Embrace the Void ending does not spell doom for Hallownest as is often believed, and here I want to present the evidence as to why. Much of this information will be common knowledge, but I've included it to support my greater point.

Firstly I want to establish that the Shade Lord (or Bill if you're so inclined) is indeed the Knight and not a dormant god or amalgamation. The ancient civilization that predates Hallownest is said to have worshiped no god, instead worshiping the void itself, taken from Lemm's comments on the Void Idol:

Inspired or mad, those ancient bugs. They devoted their worship to no lord, or power, or strength, but to the very darkness itself.

Lemm is not the most reliable of source, but this is supported by the Abyss statue that holds the void bowl when the Knight dream nails it before acquiring the Void Heart:

...Void... Power... Without unity...

Void here is considered a power, but without unity void becomes nothing more than a writhing pool of liquid with some very interesting properties. Now, I have seen it argued that void has a mind of it's own due to some of these properties, but the game actively tells us that it does not. The original description for the Hall of Gods reward statue depicting the Embrace the Void form used to read ‘Void Given Mind’, but ‘Mind’ was quickly changed to ‘Focus’ in a patch. This makes it clear that Team Cherry wants to avoid the association of void having a mind, at least when it comes to an ‘untarnished’ entity. So what causes that weird mind-like behavior? Well, lets talk about what it naturally does first. Void is naturally adverse to light, this is evidenced by a lore tablet found in the king's void workshop:

VOID, yours is the power opposed.

The king is a being of light, so it makes sense for him to consider it opposed to him. It is also evidenced by the lighthouse in the Abyss being used to suppress the void sea, preventing it from lashing out. Void also consumes soul, evidenced by the apparent need for the lighthouse keeper to be kept supplied with the stuff (though most bugs cannot utilize it for spells, if a bug were to become low on soul this may be a way to top up without the use of a hot spring), but also naturally shown by the Knight's capabilities (this could also be attributed to their status as a higher being) and how the shade cloak consumes soul projectiles that pass through it. The soul totems built by the civilization who worshiped the void are another possible avenue of evidence, they were likely constructed from void in its solid form and are used to contain soul. As soul is said to be found in the air, it's possible these totems would be able to extract it as well. From the Deep Focus charm description:

Naturally formed within a crystal over a long period. Draws in SOUL from the surrounding air.

Going back to the Abyss lighthouse, the strongest piece of evidence for the void having its own mind comes from the lighthouse keeper's dream nail dialogue:

...Turn it off?... Cannot...

My King. I'm sorry... The sea calls...

It is apparent that the void had exerted its will over this bug, but here I get into the most important property of void: void is impressionable. Void starts empty but it does not necessarily stay this way, the king used molds to shape void to his will for the creation of the kingsmoulds and wingmoulds, but it can do this organically as well. The most obvious example of this is the Hollow Knight who was "tarnished by an idea instilled", which is strongly hinted to be the bond formed between it and the king. A more extreme example of this exists in the Collector, a seemingly rogue, armourless kingsmould who for whatever reason spent a lot of time around another bug who imprinted upon it. Evidence for this comes from the dream nail dialogue of the husk you find the Love Key on:

Too long... spent together. We become as one...

This is all evidence for void being shaped by others, so what of the lighthouse keeper? Well, this bug was in the unfortunate situation of being right next to an ocean of the stuff. Husks found in proximity to void have void in their eyes, giving evidence that the void manages to get inside of them. Although usually it's just a small amount it is enough to kill them, and in this case, also influence them. Void is opposed to light - void vapor infiltrates the mind - void tells bug to turn the light off.

Okay that was a bit of a tangent but back on topic. After the Knight acquires the Void heart it gains control over the void. Shades no longer attack, tendrils no longer lash out and the Abyss statue changes its dream nail dialogue:

...Lord of Shades...

Furthermore, Bardoon has this to say:

Ohhhmmmm... Tiny thing... It evolves beyond that Wyrm. Such union in a single being. A strength before unseen. Would it too challenge nature? It could perhaps defeat it.

Pretty much everyone agrees that the Wyrm is a god, so if the Knight has truly evolved beyond the Wyrm, that should make it a god at this point as well. Gods in Hollow Knight are not very clear-cut from other bugs, they tend to be more powerful and longer lived, but still remain mortal and vulnerable to the ravages of time (at least when in the physical realm) and physical harm. The Godseekers in particular muddy the water on what can be considered a "god", but even without them there is a contrast in power between the higher beings. Despite not gaining any additional physical prowess, the Knight attaining godhood at this point, particularly as it was already the offspring of higher beings, would not be a far-fetched concept.

So if it is already a god, why did the Godseekers not notice? Because they weren't looking for it. The Godseekers attune through the dream realm by connecting to the minds of bugs, but the Knight is mindless. The Godseekers were only able to find the Hollow Knight because of the Radiance within:

O Gods of Hallownest, graciously thee open the way to this greatest of Pantheons! Thy voices grow closer and thy resonance draws Us ever higher!

Pray will We, Attune will We, until that spark of divine light shines from the deepest darkness!

And still they fear it for its silence:

O bound one, thy silence nearly deafens Us. Foolishly we feared thee, yet only by thine providence shall We find the one We seek. The God sleeping within...

Which is their deepest fear of all, taken from the tuner memory dream nail dialogue:

What gods, to save Us of Our silent mind?

So where am I going with this? Well if the Knight was already a god, then why should its behavior change so dramatically just because it gained a bigger, scarier form? I want to bring attention now to the Dream No More ending. The start of the cutscene that plays during this ending is very similar to the void breaking out of the Godseeker during the Embrace the Void ending, but here it comes from the Black Egg instead. If the scene had cut before showing the void dripping down from the lanterns then anyone would be forgiven for fearing the worst, but it doesn't. After the Black Egg dissolves into void, we see a pool of void disappear from around Hornet, then Hornet wakes up alive and unscathed. Why doesn't it consume her? Because the Knight is in control of it. Later, we see the siblings in the Abyss peacefully returning to their rest, giving us a bitter-sweet ending.

Now to add onto this i'm going to start analyzing the Knight's character. Not much direct characterization is given besides ‘it is empty’, and obviously everyone's Knight is going to act differently depending on how it is played, but there is characterization that can be inferred. Firstly, from what the Knight does regardless of what we want it to do. The Knight always slows to a walk when around Dirtmouth, NPCs and certain sites of significance, I interpret this as it being respectful (interestingly it also slows down around the Radiance statue at the top of Hallownest's Crown, so it seems to understand the religious significance of the site even though it is opposed to the deity). Also in this category are the endings, one of which I've already gone into and i'll get to Embrace the Void and Delicate Flower later. Next would be actions the player can chose to perform, and most players will for gameplay reasons. These include saving Sly, saving Bretta, freeing the grubs and placing the Grey Mourner's delicate flower on her dead lover's grave site. Lastly are choices you get that you don't have to follow and there is no benefit to doing so, these would include giving flowers to other NPCs and sitting beside Quirrel at the Blue Lake, and Marissa at the Pleasure House. The Knight is also a rather aggressive character, but with a few exceptions it only attacks creatures who are infected or insane. The exceptions to this would be if it is attacked first (Hornet, Dung Defender) if it challenges a boss to combat (Mantis Lords), is requested to attack (Nailsmith), it enters a non-lethal dream fight, or the one being attacked really deserved it (Millibelle).

The Knight is not incapable of performing bad actions however. It can leave Zote to die to the Vengefly King (though it cannot kill Zote actively), it can cause Hornet to be trapped with it inside the Black Egg, it can dream nail away passive ghosts and the worst crime of all - it can murder Menderbug! On balance however, the Knight is a generally benevolent character.

I think it's time to address the Vessels in the room, literally - the cutscene you see after completing the Pantheon of the Knight for the first time. This one is strange, it depicts the siblings as though they are alive alongside the Knight and young Hollow Knight before an exchange occurs - the Radiance roars, her light is revealed above, and then the void rises up to meet her. What is odd about this scene is that the Knight can see it without having the Void Heart, but I think I have an explanation for it. When the Knight defeats the Pure Vessel for the first time it becomes attuned with it, by proxy of relation this attunes it with the minds of its other siblings as well. in Godhome, characters attuned within the dream are represented in living form unless they become "gods" while dead, such as the dream warriors and various animated husk bosses. The Knight seeing the siblings together, followed by the void rising up to pursue the Radiance is an indication that they all share a common desire to snuff her out, even when the Knight doesn't have control over them. This can be taken as evidence that the shades are a part of the Shade Lord but I do not think this is the case. As mentioned above, characters attuned to the Godhome enter in best form and none of these siblings are attuned as shades, so they show up in Vessel form (The Hollow Knight presumably shows up in this second form only due to the Knight's attunement with it). Furthermore, no shades show up to assist the Knight in defeating the Radiance at the peak of the Pantheon of Hallownest, meaning the Shade Lord could only be composed of the Knight and the raw void you see rising up during the fight.

So now for the Embrace the Void ending itself. Upon defeating the Radiance we see the Shade Lord descend from above and wrap the Godseeker up in void tendrils, then the scene cuts to her physical body leaking void before the void bursts out of her violently. We cannot know exactly what the entity was doing here, but it's likely that embracing the Godseeker was a means for it to escape into the physical world. The Godseeker does not seem to be afraid of the Shade Lord but rather in awe of it, and there is evidence that despite how devastating its emergence appears, like with Hornet, she survived the ordeal:

Punish this shell, o God of Gods! Blast Our frail, worthless form to ash. We welcome thine fury! Desire beyond desire!

This dialogue is taken from the Godseeker game mode which is set after the Embrace the Void ending, she also thinks this in dream nail dialogue:

We bequeath our all. Our shell. Our mind. We are naught but vassal before thee, o glorious God of Gods!

The Godseekers are a collective hive-mind contained within the body of a single individual. The Godseeker you interact with in Godhome is the lead Godseeker and her shell is her own, so when she refers to ‘Our’ shell she is almost certainly referring to the physical shell they all share. Unless the Godseekers have lost all touch with reality and now only exist within the dream, this indicates that they still have a living body. Although their attitude towards the Knight has shifted... dramatically, they still appear to be perfectly aware of everything that is happening.

After the above mentioned scene we see Hornet watching the infection wither from the Black Egg temple, and then she is startled by the emergence of the Hollow Knight, now free from it's restraints. The Hollow Knight being alive as its own entity serves as further evidence that the Shade Lord is not composed of the siblings shown in the Pantheon of the Knight cutscene, as the young Hollow Knight was a part of that. At the end of this scene, the player gains the Embrace the Void achievement which has the description ‘Ascend the Pantheon of Hallownest and take your place at its peak’. Your place, it is the Knight specifically who is at the peak.

Possible counter points:

You cannot leave Godhome in Godseeker mode, which could be taken as evidence that Hallownest was destroyed. The Knight's physical form has been irreversibly altered, however just like Godseeker their dream form can be different, so they can only exist as the Knight within the dream world now.

Why did the Embrace the Void ending cut away from Godseeker when it did if not to imply something terrible happening? Dramatic effect, uncertainty, possibly you are meant to draw parallels with the Dream No More ending yourself. I'm only here to shed doubt on the Shade Lord being a malevolent entity, not to definitely state that nothing bad will happen.

Why can the Knight bring the Godseeker a delicate flower if not to protect Hallownest from what would emerge? The Knight doesn't know anything about the delicate flowers, as mentioned in dialogue from the White Lady:

There is rare power hidden in those frail petals.

To hold it so close, one must surely be unaware of its nature...

It is my belief that up until this point the Knight had been protected from the flower's power by its ‘holy shell’ born from the White Lady and Pale King. Upon shedding this shell and becoming one with the void, the flower reacts by banishing the Shade Lord along with the Godseeker who still harbors it.

What about the roar of the Shade Lord we hear in the scene after the Pantheon of the Knight? If it hadn't been pointed out to me that this was a roar and not just the noise of the void rising up I wouldn't have even noticed honestly. You have to take information found in the game files with a grain of salt, this can be foreshadowing or the ‘voice’ of void even when not united, though void having a ‘voice’ at all is a rather contradictory idea...

So in conclusion, given what we can extrapolate about the Shade Lord and the nature of the player character, I don't think there is good enough evidence for it to become a malevolent entity within Hallownest. Thank you for reading and please tell me if I've missed anything!

Tl;DR: Bill is the Knight, Bill is a cool guy, please don't be scared of Bill.

#hollow knight #lore #theory #spoilers #shade lord #void #little ghost #the knight #embrace the void #long post

[patricia-von-arundel]

A World on Its Side: Part 1 - Prisoners of Fortune - Chapter 1

Art by @zaaschila​

Rating: M

Summary:  It began with a simple mission: to rescue the Imperial children from beneath the palace in Enbarr. But when Jeralt brings home with him the sole survivor - Edelgard - he sets in motion a chain of events that will forever alter the course of the war to come in Fódlan. Soon, Edelgard and Byleth will find themselves joined by unlikely allies... and by ghosts from a past neither knew existed.

Prologue

Imperial Year 1180

Keep a close eye on that one, they said. 

Don’t trust what you see. This animal is feral. Rabid.

Anaxi had taken it all very seriously, at the start. Checking upon the hour, every hour. Keeping logs of all that he observed, exactly how much food was consumed at each meal, the length of sleep cycles. He asked the questions his training had told him to ask, despite receiving no more response than cold, bright eyes briefly meeting his own. By the book, just as he had tried so hard to do in his magic training. 

He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that it worked no better here than it had there. Maybe he just wasn’t a by-the-book kind of man.

He had been assured that this was a truly plum position, especially for one on such a tenuous second chance as he. He was in charge of guarding no ordinary prisoner, kept only to provide a means to gain influence and information - this one was somehow... different. And had once escaped, almost a year previously, killing two guards to do so. (This information had weighed heavily on Anaxi’s mind, in the earliest days of his posting. Now, he questioned the truth of it, honestly - it was rumored there had been accomplices. This one hardly seemed to have the will to move, much less kill.)

A plum position, yes. A very special position. 

So why did he feel as if once more, existence had chosen him as the butt of some nasty, inescapable joke?

All he’d ever wanted was to be noticed - to be something more than just another cog in an army that seemed less a well-oiled machine and more some mighty automaton collapsed to ruin, pilfered for scrap and beginning to rust. The children of Shambhala were taught of their own great legacy - descendants of those who had brought down gods! - but Anaxi had very early found himself questioning if any of that greatness truly remained. What was the value of legacy if no one lived up to it? 

As a naïve child, he had dreamed of being the one to do it - to rise up, and reclaim that glory his ancestors had called their own. False gods once more reigned across a beastly, primitive world, worshiped by vermin. He could bring them down. He could become the rebirth of true history. An end to stagnation! Words with meaning, more than parroting ideals, proverbs of steel left without bite!

But it was not to be, of course - beyond boyhood, he remained devoted to such a cause, but knew the war would never be his to lead. Instead, he watched as his dreamt-of reclamation nonetheless began, plans unfurling first as rumor, but soon as proud promises that the end of that world of primitive creatures and nefarious false deities would soon, finally, be at an end. 

Anaxi was then in military training - the perfect place for lapping up every drip of information. Soon, the gossip all seemed to whisper. Soon, soon, soon. 

Then they called for more mages - training for any willing to do what was necessary for the greater good. And once more, Anaxi felt a calling. There were moles on the surface now. Infiltrating. Risking everything. But they could do nothing without magic. 

Anaxi was accepted. 

Half a year later, he was dismissed. 

There was no dramatic story to tell, no grand plot against his future - he simply proved to be, in a word, lousy at magic. Juggling words, his hands, and the direction of power, all at the same time, turned out to be more than he was able to handle. 

A blow - and one that, at the time, had seemed likely to leave unfading bruises to his pride. He had believed in himself - believed he truly had something to give for the glorious future of this woefully maligned land. 

But eventually he realized... He still believed it. He just had to figure out the true capacity by which he might show it. It wasn’t magic or leadership - so be it. But whatever it was, he would search until he found it. Deciding he needed a position that allowed time for rumination on the matter, and speaking to some of his former tutors in spellwork, he had received his current security position: monitoring the most valuable of prisoners. The advantage of it was that they were also the least likely to escape - far darker means than wood and iron kept them in their cells. 

This one, though - this one was kept apart from the others. He could see the dark magic, writhing, powerful, that worked its way across the entrance to the tiny, bare room. There was a bed in there, a wooden bucket, cleaned twice daily (thankfully not by him), a small basin of water...

And the prisoner. 

Face covered by a cowl, though he did not know if that was by order, or choice. Rarely moving - sitting on the edge of that narrow bed, most of the time, looking down. Lean, in those dark fabrics: more a wraith than a feral animal. Still and silent. And those cold, bright eyes...

He no longer bothered to do hourly checks - just the occasional one, and he scribbled “no unusual activity” in the log for each required entry at the end of each tedious session. He spent most of his time cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the wall and trying not to doze off. He wasn’t supposed to engage beyond official questions, but he really wished the prisoner would talk, even just a little bit. Babble or something, like some of the prisoners in the regular cells, where he had been before. Some sound, any sound; something besides his own bored sighs. 

He told himself he was accustomed to the silence by now. It wasn’t true. 

Still, he remained. Considering the future. Maybe he would see that outside world of beasts, when it had been taken. Maybe there was still a way he could assist in the taking. Maybe - 

He jerked his head from the wall, sat up straighter. 

A noise. Around the corner. Echoing - a cry, quickly silenced. A muffled thud. 

The prisoner’s head turned. 

That sharp face, beneath the cowl -

It was smiling.

-

Imperial Year 1159

For most of the journey, it had rained. Like the clouds were following them - a dark thought, but an amusing one. And rather appropriate - she felt a little cloudy still herself, though far stormier than the steady spring showers she watched through the window. 

The distance was not great, but the entire journey was across craggy hill and mountain, and the rain did nothing to improve the conditions of the roads. Even calling them “roads” was being generous - they were often hardly more than muddy goat paths. The carriage made slow, steady, laborious way along them, a crawl that made what should have been a 10-hour journey become instead a day and a half. She spent the short night at the inn tossing and turning, wishing desperately that this part could be over with - that she could just get there, and be done with it. 

Be done with him. 

The pompous, self-righteous picture of perfect piety sitting across from her in the carriage. 

“I’m perfectly capable of getting there myself,” she had said - multiple times. 

“Of course you are. But it wouldn’t do for a young lady for your stature to arrive at such a place alone. Besides, I would like to pay my respects to the Goddess at her own eternal resting place.”

Of your stature - she should have laughed every time he said it. As if she didn’t know exactly why he wanted to accompany her. It had less to do with the Goddess or any “eternal resting place,” and far more to do with hoping to kiss the holy rump of the Archbishop and any powerful noble rumps that happened to be there besides. 

She had wanted to go to Fhirdiad, to study sorcery. But no - no, to him, that was not good enough. Not after he had been denied his own place, over a decade before, their mother citing the stiff cost. Where the gold had been found now, she did not know. Perhaps the Goddess herself thought to give her a year’s respite from pious social-climbers, and had vomited money down upon them. 

She smiled at the mental image, then quickly forced it away - but not quickly enough. “There’s a happier expression,” he said. “From what I’ve heard, it will soon be hard to hide that happiness. You’ll like it here - it is the heart of all Fódlan.”

She had her doubts, but said only, “Perhaps.”

The sun was trying to find its way out as they made the final, winding climb - he’d probably see that as some kind of sign. There were other carriages now, a few open wagons, and one small party on horseback. She envied the last; they had probably made the best time of any of those arriving. 

Arriving at Garreg Mach Monastery. 

She had been here once before, though she did not remember it. There had been border skirmishes that threatened to turn deadly, and her mother had brought her here for shelter until the situation was resolved. She’d been only two or three at the time. 

Looking up at it now, she wondered how impossibly enormous it had appeared to a child so young. Even now, it was imposing... almost monstrous. What message was intended? If she asked, she was certain the answer would be “sanctuary.” But she felt no warmth, no comfort. She felt threat. 

...Which even she had to admit to herself was ridiculous. Certainly, she did not view the Church of Seiros with the same blind devotion as some, but this was no more than a series of buildings. Large, looming buildings, but still just stone and wood for all that. The worst that might happen here was admonishment for her abysmal bow skills. No need to be over-imaginative. 

How often had she been told that? 

A lot. 

They were stopped at the gates, and a knight with a long scroll of paper opened the door, bowing his head as he did so. “New student?”

She opened her mouth, but was not given a chance to speak: “Yes - my sister.”

She bristled, but only until the knight looked at her then, not him. She appreciated that. “Your name?”

She sat up a little straighter, head held high. “Anselma von Arundel.”

Whatever happened later...

This was how it began.

-

Her room in the dormitory was larger than her room at home - significantly so. For all the value of the Arundel lands compared to much of the rest of Adrestia, they might as well have been in Faerghus (and practically were), and the manor house reflected as much: low and long, with a thatched roof and small rooms built to retain as much heat as possible through long, cold, damp winters. 

The room at the Officers Academy was high-ceilinged, bright, airy. She wasn’t about to admit it to Volkhard, but this offered a very positive first impression of a school she had fought tooth and nail not to have to attend. 

She left the two trunks of her things beside the bed - she could unpack them later. For now, while Volkhard was off kissing rings and the toes of Saints’ statues, it seemed the perfect opportunity to come to know her new surroundings a bit better, before the welcome dinner to be held that evening. 

(That, she was actually looking forward to - because it would offer her her first glimpse of her house leader. Alger von Vestra, cousin of the recently-recognized new marquis - even in the remote northwest of Adrestia, the Vestra family was... notorious. Infamous. Volkhard’s pursed-lip displeasure at the choice had alone been enough to leave Anselma intrigued.)

She closed and locked the door to her room - something she would have to try to grow accustomed to doing, though slipping her very own key in her pocket made her feel foolishly adult - and gave her new home a longer look around than she had coming in. Walls, and more walls. Paths, and more paths. Grass. A lot of grass. All very well-kept, attractive, but - 

I’m going to get lost. Often. 

Perhaps forever, and she could become the Eternal Lost Soul of Garreg Mach, a tale told to frighten new students and see that they were in their rooms come curfew. Better than a year here trying to woo some noble so she wouldn’t have to spend the rest of her life offering utterly sincere prayers under Volkhard’s thumb. Though lost souls probably couldn’t visit Enbarr, something she rather wanted to do, as long as she was this close. She’d never been anywhere bigger than the hamlets and villages scattered across the Arundel lands, and most of those had more goats than people. 

From her left, a sudden crash - loud and close enough to make her jump. She whirled, startled, to find a girl of about her own age. The girl’s eyes were wide, and her face was flushed a brighter color than her rather-bright hair. She was already in uniform - Anselma only noticed because the collar was incorrectly fastened, and had come askew. At her feet, the source of the crash: a pile of large books that had to stack almost as tall as she was. 

Their eyes met, and the girl’s face grew even brighter. “I... I’m sorry. I tripped on the edge of the path. None of them hit you, did they?” She held up a hand, almost as if offering something. “I can heal you. I mean... if you need it.” She looked almost hopelessly eager - like a naughty puppy trying to wag its tail to avoid trouble. 

“They didn’t hit me. I’m fine.”

The girl’s hand dropped, and so did her shoulders. “Oh. Good. But... I’m still sorry. And sorry if it’s rude, but I... I need to pick these up. Quickly.” She gathered them with almost frantic hurry, hugging them to her chest with one arm in nearly as much disarray as they had been in on the ground. 

They were just going to go everywhere again if she tried to get them all like that. “May I help?”

For a moment, the girl’s eyes met hers once more. “You... you don’t mind?”

“Of course not. All my things are already in my room.”

“I... it would be easier. If you’re sure you don’t mind. I would... very much appreciate it.”

“Not at all.” She got the rest before the girl could attempt any more herself, then followed her to her room - “Hey, it’s right next to mine!”

“Really?” The girl was fumbling for her key, her books in danger of going everywhere yet again. Finally, she managed to shove the door open with her shoulder. “But your clothes... I thought they said the nobles mostly take second-floor rooms? That’s... what someone told me, anyway. When I was applying.” She dumped the books on her bed, so Anselma did the same. “Are you a noble?”

She laughed - she couldn’t help it. “Theoretically. More like Lady of the Goats. I’m Anselma von Arundel, and I’d bet my last 100 gold the name means absolutely nothing to you.”

For the first time, the girl smiled. She really had a very eye-catching face, especially those heavy-lidded blue eyes. “I don’t think I should take that bet. I don’t have 100 gold. I’m Cornelia Arnim.”

“Cornelia Arnim, who likes to read.”

“Well... not just... I like to read, but -” She stopped abruptly, and turned to stare out the window. Her eyes once more went wide. “I... my apologies. I have to go. Right now. The wagon is hired, and I have to get the rest of my stuff - if the driver’s not back to Enbarr by sunset, he charges for another day. I’m sorry, I have to -”

“I’ll help,” Anselma said - and at the door, took off running. The gates were the one thing she knew how to find, and she’d been cramped in a carriage for nearly two days. “Come on, hurry! We can get it all!”

Cornelia’s voice, calling after her: “Are we allowed to run?!”

“Nobody said we couldn’t!”

Behind her, she could hear the quickening footfalls, hurrying to catch up.

-

He had never had the richest lands, nor the richest life. Nonetheless, Volkhard von Arundel had always felt blessed by the Goddess. Truly blessed. He had never lacked for food, or shelter, or clothing. Losing his parents - his father when he was 12, to an injury from a horse kick; his mother when he was 16, to an inflammation of the lungs - had been hard, and attempting to raise Anselma, only 5 years old when he became her guardian, even harder. He had become lord and parent, and in doing so forewent his lifelong goal - something he had never truly abandoned until then - of being the first Arundel to attend the Officers Academy. 

Still, he felt he had risen well to one of the Goddess’ accompanying challenges - as lord, he had managed to arrange for increased sales of meats, furs, and cheeses across the border, into Faerghus. It not only allowed for fresher goods to be sold, it also meant less travel and higher prices - much of Faerghus still highly reliant on imported goods to feed and clothe its population, and paying a premium to do so - which in turn led, for the first time Volkhard knew of in recorded history, to significantly greater profit across the soil-poor Arundel lands. Anselma might complain of all the sheep and goats, but he suspected she would change her tune soon enough, when she truly understood all that those animals had brought her. 

But that was the other challenge of the Goddess: Anselma. 

Here, he feared his plans had not fared so well. Maybe it was losing her parents so young, and then being allowed too much indulgence and freedom as he focused most of his attention on their livelihood. She had had a nursemaid, of course, and later there were several young scholars willing to take low-paid positions in exchange for a recommendation to carry along with them at departure, but perhaps none of them had been firm enough, disciplined enough, for one such as Anselma. She had been pushing boundaries - if not outright leaping over them - her entire life, and showed little inclination to attempt to stop doing so even now. She spoke her mind even when her thoughts were highly unorthodox - even vulgar - then five minutes later refused to speak at all. She had a self-righteous pride the Saints themselves would find trying - and Volkhard was himself certainly no saint. 

She accused him of sending her to Officers Academy solely to see his own dreams fulfilled, and perhaps there was an element of that. Certainly, the offer from the Central Church to pay for her time here had come as an unexpected, very pleasant surprise, after he had so long ago seen his own dream of attending dashed. 

But there was also the hope that it might instill in Anselma more discipline - and, perhaps, a modicum of piety. She did not yet recognize the value of such things in arranging a successful marriage - nor, as yet, did she seem to recognize the value of a successful marriage in and of itself. It was a sign from the Goddess, surely: she had rewarded him as a faithful servant, for his increased donations each year to the church as his own wealth slowly grew, and now she had sent a sign she did not intend to forget him... nor even his wayward younger sister, difficult though she might be to reach. 

He had never had the opportunity to visit Garreg Mach; when their mother had fled here with young Anselma, he had been 14 years old, and already lord in name if not in practice: he remained behind. This visit was not one he intended to squander, and he allowed Anselma to shoo him from her new dormitory with little protest. There were things he must do. 

The cathedral itself: that was where he must go first. One of the oldest structures in Fódlan, and - as he could confirm for himself now, staring up at it with his own awe-struck eyes - very likely the most beautiful. It was a far cry from the squat little stone church he had attended all his life. He could only imagine the glory of seeing this place filled, hundreds of rapturous voices rising even above the rafters, all the way to the heavens and the ears of the Goddess herself... Back at home, it was usually only himself, Anselma (if she hadn’t woken up early enough to disappear first), and a handful of the oldest inhabitants of the nearly villages who attended worship. Much - too much - of Adrestia had seen the dissolution of the Southern Church as an excuse to turn their backs on the Goddess. 

The money in his pocket - he’d brought it for just this visit to the cathedral. More than he could truly afford to give, but it wasn’t only for himself - it was also for Anselma, and her future, and the future of the Arundel name. Perhaps a husband in Enbarr, children to cure some of Anselma’s high-spiritedness, and security for the family beyond wools sold to Fhirdiad and the frigid borderlands to its north: that would be all and more Volkhard would ever ask of the Goddess. His final gift, then, would be himself. Should Anselma bear a son to take over the family lands, he intended to retire here, and dedicate the rest of his life to the Goddess as a monk.

(Yes, of course, some would call his desire for a male heir antiquated and ridiculous - Anselma likely among them. But he had no qualms about being viewed as old-fashioned, and as long as he was alive and serving as Lord Arundel, he would pick an heir as he saw fit.)

It felt satisfying, dropping the gold into the collection basket beside the entrance. He walked inside slowly, breathing deep of hushed, rarefied air. This was where the Archbishop herself came to pray. This was where the Goddess dwelled. This was where the Saints might watch over Fódlan, with all their holy wisdom. 

He could feel them all. 

The space was enormous - cavernous. His steps echoed now, as did many of the prayers offered from the pews. The nave was more filled than he would have expected - and many of those praying or sitting in silent contemplation were in the uniforms of students. Some with their families, but just as many were alone - here of their own volition? If so, it must bode well for their potential influence on Anselma’s faith... or lack thereof. 

He allowed himself, very briefly, to have a seat and a prayer of his own: a prayer that he was making the right decision. A prayer that this was truly the will of the Goddess. 

Then, he went to the left. Down the aisle. 

Just as the letter had said - a courtyard. A knight stood in the doorway. He ducked into a quick bow. “My apologies - this area is currently off limits.”

“My name is Volkhard von Arundel.” The words, too, came from the letter. “I am expected.” 

Like magic - the knight stepped wordlessly aside. 

The man outside had his back turned, looking out over the wall at the world spread before them, so very, very far below. He was wearing robes and the distinctive cloth tri-cornered hat of a monk. 

“You came, then, Lord Arundel,” he said - and only then turned to duck his head in greeting. “Well met. The Archbishop will be pleased at your willingness to come even this far.”

“I would do anything the Archbishop asked of me. As I have already put into writing. I would gladly do so again, and seal it with my own hand.”

The monk almost smiled - he had a youthful face, but something of his expression spoke of greater years. “I think your presence here is assurance enough. Your sister - she has also arrived?”

“Yes. Though she is probably more eager to nose around than to begin her studies.”

The monk laughed at that. Very briefly. “She is not the first such student, nor will she be the last. Worry not - there are eyes everywhere at Garreg Mach, especially as new students arrive. She will be kept to approved areas. For her own safety, of course.” He glanced around, as if to make certain none of those eyes he spoke of watched them. “Now - about the... small matter... I alluded to in my letters. Dangerous to all of the Church - and all of the people of Fódlan. You remember all of this, I presume?”

“Of course.” The letter - the second he had received - had come with instructions to burn it... and a chit for the full cost of Anselma’s time at the Officers Academy. From any other source, he would have of course immediately smelled a rat, but from the Church itself - “Whatever I can do to assist you in this matter, I give you my word, I will do it.”

A curt nod. “My thanks, Lord Arundel. Come, then - let us speak of his more privately. And perhaps over a cup of tea? I fear all I need to tell you may take quite some time...”

-

Imperial Year 1180

Anaxi scrambled to his feet, reaching for the shortsword at his belt. He could feel himself shaking - and he could feel the cold eyes of the prisoner still, staring at him through all that crackling, surging magic. 

I probably just fell asleep. Fell asleep, and had one of those dreams that wake you right back up, like the one where you miss a step and your foot jerks in real life. 

Then why had the prisoner been looking at him? Why that smile?

He could hear something new now. It sounded like... breathing.

Panting, eager breathing. 

Just around the corner. 

On the surface world, beastly creatures stalked their prey. They made a game of it - toying. Sending eyes wide, flesh quivering, hearts racing. Fear - they feasted upon it as surely as upon muscle and marrow. 

He was prey. 

Cold sweat, beading along his skin. 

He drew his sword. As silently as he could. As if whatever lurked around the corner did not already know he was there. 

He wished now, once more, for magic. 

The heavy breathing had slowed. There was no other sound. His own breath had long caught. 

Then -

A slow, sliding, heavy step closer. 

Another.

He held the sword up. Breathing, suddenly, in harsh, erratic gasps. “Halt!” His voice shook, too - and suddenly, irrationally, he wondered if the prisoner would laugh at him. “None are permitted here!”

“Oh?” The voice was deep... sonorous... and very close. “I do not recall asking.”

“I have a weapon!”

“...Glorious.”

He was grabbed by a blur of movement and pain, the shortsword falling from his hand as he was slammed, hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs, into the cold stone of the wall behind him. 

But colder still was the blade that speared his middle. 

He heard his own desperate, choked groan. 

Eyes. Colder even than the prisoner’s. 

Then the blade was gone - jerked mercilessly from his belly - and he was released, collapsing in a heap on the floor. 

Blood. Hot. It was so hot.

Something to give for the glorious future of Shambhala...

His life.

It was hard to focus - darkness dancing around his eyes. Inside his head. 

The last thing he saw: the one who had killed him. Walking through that crackling wall of spellwork as if it was no more than cobwebs. 

And the prisoner’s eyes, watching him die. 

#a world on its side #what-if tales of the tiny emperor #fire emblem three houses fanfiction

[yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy]

Silk, Spices and Lies Part 1

So I had another IDEA for a Vikings fic and it is taking over my lives and I know this is very far fetched and probably, horrifically historically inaccurate and I don’t care. It’s going to be fun and out of the box and a version of Historical Fantasy fiction that’s like crack for me. @waiting4inspiration​ and @inforapound​ wanted to be tagged since this is a King Harald Finehair fic. Enjoy. 

Silk, Spices and Lies

“Sultana,” You greeted your princess as you bowed to her respectfully, having been summoned late in the evening through a secret enterance through her palace where she and the rest of the harem resided of the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire. 

“Lady Shahana.” She greeted you in turn as you could already see the glint in her eyes, she had another job for you. 

“How may I be of service your majesty?” You asked a grin growing on your lips behind your veil, your own eyes begining to alight in mischief. 

“I have heard quite a few confirmed reports about a Great Heathen Army that defeated a Christian kingdom led by the sons of Ragnar and a King Finehair of Norway among others, it seems the Christians are spreading like a plague so much so that even the norsemen are dealing with them. There may be potential if the reports are to be believed or trusted, that at least one of the masterminds behind it, is available for marriage. My father is looking for options for my betrothal, but the last thing I want is to be set away like a jewel to be kept in a jewelry box. I wish to do my own research and wish to make sure I have every option available, even if I have to look far beyond my own kingdom to do it.” She explained as you both sat down to refreshments as you frowned in confusion. This was not normal “work” for you. You were a trained assassin, a woman who could easily infiltrate any household under the guise of a house maid and poison or kill anyone your princess requested. You worked for her and only her and she paid you handsomely for it so that you were able to lift your own large family out of poverty, especially since your parents only had girls. 

“So what is it that you would ask of me?” You questioned cautiously. 

“There are silk and spice traders that know the area which I wish to send you to. If you go there with them and study the people and the appropriate men that are there and if you feel that I would be a match with them and if they would be willing to come here and let me rule through them by combining our kingdoms then it will be a match. Here are what I am looking for in such a possible match.” She said as she presented you with a very heavy letter, many pages long, sealed in wax which you took and put away into a secret pocket in your clothes. 

“When you return with your findings, I will see to it that your father gains an appropriate office in court so that you can retire if you wish and not be burdened with taking care of your family. I will personally make sure your dowry and all of your sister’s dowries are fully funded and I will even match them up to the highest and most advantageous matches possible and that your father is made to be a Pasha in my father’s court and that he is given prestige and an income equal to his station. And if it is a match, you will be my new lady in waiting or if there is a match that I can make for you, I will do it.” She offered but while that sounded good, there had to be a catch, one greater than the reward. 

“What if it is not a match, what if none of them are willing to leave their homeland and I come back empty handed and with a bad report?” You questioned cautiously, knowing how ruthless she was, you feared for your family’s safety. 

“Then you can still tell me of your experience. I admire your honesty with me and your courage and cunning and we know each other well enough that I trust you to be my eyes and ears out there. You know the law, I am not allowed to leave this palace, you are though.” She reminded you. 

“Make my father a Pasha now, give my sisters their dowries now and match them with good and kind men, who will treat them with honor, kindness and respect and will not abuse them, I will go and do this for you and I will be as thorough as possible. I know that it can take over a year to do such a thing and I don’t want my family to wait all this time on the off chance that a man worthy of you is willing to come into a world he knows nothing of to be your puppet.” You specified, knowing you were one of the very few who could speak to her in such a way without death being instantly called upon you. 

“How about I fill your sister’s dowries half way now, the other half when you arrive back home and your sisters will wait to be married until you return and you yourself will approve the matches and your father will be elevated to a Hoca for now. A Pasha once you return and a Bey if you are successful. Fair enough?” She countered. 

“Fair enough.” You agreed. 

“Excellent.” She grinned before she brought you with her into the next room where the traders were gathered, still eating a large lavish meal set before them. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you so much for waiting so patiently. This is Lady Shahana Medvahna, she’s my lady in waiting and one of my closest friends.” She lied, you were neither of those things because the princess had no close friends. But for the sake of this, you will agree to whatever terms she says. “You will take her on your next tour of the north. We have heard tales of this Great Heathen Army, I am sending her with you to investigate it. You will take her as far north as she needs to go to do it. I will see to it that you are fully supplied to take care of her as if she was me. Since she is my eyes and ears while she’s away. You will protect her with your lives. I will resupply you when you return and I will pay you this sum for doing this for me and I will give you another sum if you return her safe and sound when you are done. Understood?” She instructed before she had a chest of gold brought in and presented. 

“And I will make sure you are also fully funded as well.” She whispered to you as the traders practically drooled and went through all the gold and treasures eagerly and promised and swore that they would do all that she had commanded them.  

“Thank you.” You thanked her graciously as she then took you aside privately and made you swear on your life and the lives of your family that you would not tell anyone the real reason that you were going as was the usual way of your true profession. Not even your family which you readily did before she presented you with an array of very fine gifts and your own chest of money to support you on this journey. 

It took a week for you to pack all of your supplies, your father was hesitant to send you away but your sisters were eternally grateful for your sacrifice. The people you were traveling with were gypsies, they were incredibly kind and welcoming and the mother and father both took care of you as if you were one of their own daughters and they even got you - your own cart, your own little house on wheels to go with them. It was the finest gypsy cart you had ever seen and every detail about it seemed to drip with luxury because to them, you were a princess and you deserved the greatest they had, it was also large enough to house you comfortably and had the latest improvements. Your family made sure you had enough food and comfort crammed into the little thing that you could stuff into it. They needed the larger gypsy vanner draft horses to pull the thing, so your stallion simply got attached to the wagon and led behind it, which the horse didn’t mind one bit as long as there was hay in front of him so he could graze as he walked. 

Being a mix of Arabic, Persian and Ottoman yourself, traveling through the desert on the silk road to get to the sea felt like going home to visit your mother’s relatives who were Bedowin. 

On the way they taught you their language as you taught them your own native tongues as the interpreters who were sent with you also taught you the languages to which you were going so that by the time you arrived you’d be able to converse, at least a little with natives although the interpreters did their best to flirt with you and you had to remind them that as a lady in waiting to the sultana, your life and your chastity was already pledged to her and did your best to shut down their advances. 

To hear the tongue spoken of by the norsemen sounded strage in your ears but you did your best. But by the time you reached Kettegat things had changed drastically, the Great Heathen Army was no more, the brothers who led the Great Heathan Army had fallen out with each other and warred with each other. There was one- Ivar the Boneless who had disappeared without a trace. Now Bjorn Ironside ruled Kettegat with his brothers Ubba and Hvertserk while you heard reports of King Finehair would be returning to Norway, if not already had returned by now. It was a blow and a disappointment but you were grateful that at least the lives of your family were not riding on the line of your sucess or failure of this mission. 

You led your horse off the boat first before your home was unloaded from the large ship. It was supposed to be spring turning into summer but it was freezing to you this far north and you felt the wet cold in your bones. 

Meanwhile King Harold was about to leave, and go back home to Norway and stopped in his tracks, you were the prettiest woman he had ever seen in his life and yet your face was still half covered by a veil. You were among gypsies but you were clearly something else. You wore a veil over your lower face but your piercing purple eyes were brighter than any jewel he had ever seen, your skin was darker than any skin he had ever seen. Your horse was magnificent, he had not seen a horse like it before in his life and you smelled better than any flower he had ever smelled and your presence was like a warm ray of sunshine and excited his senses like spices. 

“Excuse me.” You asked him and he blinked in surprise when you came face to face at the base of the docks since he had watched you get off the boat and lead your horse off the boat and down the dock, everyone seemingly parted for you as they all stared at you in astonishment, not having seen many people, if anyone like you around here before he realized that...you spoke his language?! He had understood you. He realized he was standing on there dumbfounded before he came to his senses and stepped to the side to let you and your horse pass him.  

“Excuse me, where are you from?” He asked curiously, although being impressed you spoke his language, your accent was clearly something new, that and you had a beautiful voice. 

“The Middle East.” You answered without a second thought. “And you? Are you from here?” You asked as you gestured around yourself before you looked over at him and paused, you had not seen a man with...greenish blue tattoos...just all over his face! It was so strange but he was a handsome man, his voice was rough and harsh but had a warmth to it that you found appealing. Probably from battle cries you assumed. He was of a good heighth too. 

“Yeah, I’m King Harold Finehair of Norway.” He informed you proudly. 

“The King Finehair of Norway who also led the Great Heathen Army with the sons of Ragnar?” You asked excitedly, relieved that he had been the first of the people of interest that were the easiest to find and his chest nearly burst with pride. Oh the gods were favoring him again. This was too good to be true. A beautiful exotic woman had not only heard of him but knew of his accomplishments and was clearly already impressed. Blessed be this day. 

“Yes the very same.” He confirmed with a proud smile. 

“Where are your attendants and servants then? Shouldn’t a king always be surrounded by…” You began to question as you looked around for attendants but no one was attending to him. Very strange indeed. 

“I’m not that kind of King. I take care of myself.” He answered as you frowned in confusion for a moment before you seem to simply accept that. 

“And you are?” He asked as he took a step towards you to close the distance as he looked down at you and marveled at you. 

“I’m Lady Shahana Medvahna, pleasure to meet you your highness.” You greeted him respectfully as you bowed down low in a respectful curtsy and he just could not take his eyes off of you. Afraid that if he did, you’d vanish like sand dropped into water. 

“So...what are you doing here?” He asked curiously. 

“Oh, the Sultan and Sultana of Constantinople have heard of the Great Heathan Army that defeated a Christian nation, we are a Muslim nation and we do some trading with the norseman already, we wish to improve the trading relationship and align ourselves with you for a prosperous future.” You answered since that was the official answer you were allowed to give and if King Harold could have proposed to you and kissed you right then he would have. He was instantly smitten. 

“Well as King of Norway, I would also like to enter into an alliance with Ottoman Empire, any enemy of a christian is a friend of mine.” He grinned which made you smile behind your veil but your eyes were shining and glittering in the sunshine and he was hopelessly bewitched. 

“Well let us set up, then we will discuss business, or are you about to leave?” You asked as you gestured to the boats. 

“No, I’m staying, for a little while yet.” He answered, having instantly decided to stay here a little while longer. 

“And will your queen join you? When you come to do business with us? I have heard you have a mighty and fierce warrior queen.” You asked before he looked particularly pained. 

“No, my queen died, on the battlefield, just..recently.” He answered regretfully, not wanting you to feel bad for having out of date knowledge for there was probably no way for you to know that yet. 

“Oh no! I’m so sorry, please accept my...I don’t...I haven’t learned the word for what I’m trying to say, my interpreters have only taught me so much.” You explained as you struggled with remembering what word was right for what you felt. 

“I understand what you can not say. Thank you. And you? Where is your husband?” He asked, probably one of the young men with you in your party as a few of them caught his eye as they walked past and watched his interaction with you closely. 

“Oh, I don’t have one, not yet anyway, when I get home, I’m sure my father will have a few lined up for me though, I was asked to come here and see the Great Heathan Army with my own eyes and confirm the report we heard.” You answered and he knew hesitation when he saw it, you didn’t want a husband, at least not one your father would choose. You didn’t want to go home and find out either. This was probably your one and only chance to get away. He could take you far, far away from you home and give you a new one you would like just as much, he was certain. You were now practically his new Middle Eastern Princess. 

“Hana! Come on, we gotta go!” Your new best friend Kezia urged you as she led your cart away. 

“Excuse me, I must go.” You excused yourself before you led your horse away to follow the train of others.  

“Do you need a lift onto your horse?” He asked hopefully as he followed you around your horse. 

“Um…” You stuttered before he bent over and offered you his laced hands so that you could get a foot up which made you blush like crazy, being touched by such a simple and humble of a gesture from so great a man. Kings were usually above such humble acts. Maybe this was a good sign that he was different from any other you had met or would know. 

“Thank you- your majesty, surely I’m to lowly for such a gesture.” You thanked him as you took his offered help, not wanting to offend him and your hand placed on his shoulder told you that he had a lot of hardened muscle to him underneath his woolen tunic. A fine warrior indeed. 

“Not at all,” he reassured you. “You have traveled very far to see me apparently, the least I can do for you is to help you onto your horse, when you have settled, we will find each other and do business, I promise.” He offered and your smile grew. 

“Very well.” You nodded in agreement as you settled into your saddle.  

“What kind of horse is this?” He asked once you were up as he reached out to touch it’s dished face as the horse sniffed him curiously and seemed at peace having him touch him. Horses had a sixth sense about people, and your horse liked him, so he must be good. 

“An Arabian, they are great endurance horses, they fly across the sand dunes and don’t need to be fed or watered until the next oasis.” You boasted proudly. “It was a pleasure to meet you King Finehair. I hope we see each other often while you’re here.” You offered before you rode off, giving him another look over your shoulder to see him still standing there, staring after you in awe and admiration. You were kind of relieved you were not sent here to kill him. He was obviously a good man. And good men were hard to come by.

#king harald finehair #King Harald finehair imagine #King Harald finehair and reader #King Harald Finehair and reader imagine #Vikings imagines #Vikings fanfic #king harald finehair vikings #Silk Spices and Lies Part 1 #harald finehair x reader #harald finehair imagine #vikings harald #harald finehair

[elenathehun]

Kurenai/Itachi “I got you a present.”

@roadkill2580, you absolute bastard.

~~~

Late fall in the Village Hidden Among the Leaves is one of the more pleasant seasons of the year, at least in Kurenai’s considered opinion.  It’s dry and cool, but not so cool it was legitimately chilly, like winter could be.  Nor did she have to suffer through the annoyances of the afternoon rains of summer, the muggy humidity of early fall, or the truly miserable pollen of the entire season of spring. In other words, late fall was absolutely perfect in every way.

It was at least a third of the reason Kurenai had leapt at the chance to take a teaching rotation with ANBU when Commander Sarutobi had offered her the option.  The other two-thirds was the undeniable opportunity to network among the up-and-coming ANBU trainees, as well as the already-established leadership.  The Third Hokage’s eldest daughter used her influence sparingly, but there was no denying how important her patronage had become among the specialized jounin Corps.  Gaining her personal attention had been a real coup for Kurenai, even if she’d had to do a teaching rotation at the Academy to cover for her extended stay in the Village.

And there was nothing like teaching classes at the Academy and ANBU during the same semester to make one appreciate the joy of students who wanted to learn.  The adult learners of ANBU were enthusiastic for the opportunity to improve their genjutsu skills, and grateful for the opportunity to attend a seminar taught by the foremost subject matter expert in the Village; the students of the Academy were children, more intent on passing notes with their friends or daydreaming out the window.  In truth, Kurenai didn’t blame the children that much.  Genjutsu required more control and experience than even the most advanced child possessed.  It was a subtle art best left advanced training later in their careers, much like the course Kurenai was currently teaching for ANBU. But it didn’t change how dispiriting it was to teach such dullards.

“Instructor Yuuhi!” a young voice called out as she identified herself to shift security at the ANBU Instructional Complex.  Kurenai peered past the guard, and smiled helplessly as she saw none other than Uchiha Itachi waving for her. She walked over to the boy after her credentials were cleared, surprised to see him waiting alone.  Usually it was impossible to see him unescorted by his cousin Shisui, a jounin a few years older than Kurenai herself.

“Hello, Itachi, ready for today’s class?”  Kurenai asked.  "Where’s your shadow, by the way?  I never see him without you.“

"Shisui’s on a mission for Commander Shimura,” Itachi replied quietly, slipping one hand into hers.  "We’re supposed to start the unit of non-visual genjutsu today, right?“

Kurenai let the boy tug her forward towards the classroom assigned to her use, a little bemused by his forward behavior.  The eleven-year-old was the exception that proved the rule when it came to learning genjutsu.  Physically, he could have fit right in with the children Kurenai was currently struggling to impart the basics of the subtle art of illusion - more than a few of his cousins were scattered among the crowd.  But instead, he was an apt pupil as any other ANBU trainee, as dedicated as any veteran of the Third War to the art of the silent kill.  

"That’s the plan, although depending on how quick everyone is to pick it up, we might spend some time specializing in auditory hallucinations,” Kurenai finally said.  It was a little charming, how young he acted without the constant attention of his minder.  

“Good, I’ve been looking forward to this unit,” Itachi said, swinging their hands as they walked.  There were a few people walking through the hallways as they went, but no one took any mind of them as they went.  Kurenai was amused to see it was because the younger nin had overlaid a genjutsu on top of them that mimicked them in every way - save for the clasped hands.  Clever, clever boy.  "I was reading a story to Sasuke about his namesake’s campaign to conquer the city of Lanshi for Lord First, and it sounded like he used something like that to distract the city guard before infiltrating.“

"That’s a good catch, Itachi!  We’re actually going to discuss Sarutobi Sasuke’s tactics as a real-world example in class today,” Kurenai said, letting herself smile.  "You can tell your brother about it when you get home tonight.“

"I’ll tell him tomorrow, he still has to go to sleep at 7 like a baby,” Itachi replied as they took the right corridor at the first T-intersection. “I told Mom he should be allowed to stay up now that he’s attending the Academy, but she said he was still too young!  I was allowed to stay up when I was his age…”

“Well, he’s six,” Kurenai said, amused.  "And I suspect that he is a different kind of six-year-old than you were.“

"Yes,” Itachi said, voice suddenly muffled.  Kurenai saw he was chewing on his bottom lip - although there was no sign of that in the illusion.  "He’s not…advanced.  Father isn’t pleased.“

Yes, Kurenai could well imagine Uchiha Fugaku’s impossible expectations for a child born after the bright light that was his eldest son.  The Uchiha Clan Head was exactly the sort of man to think Itachi’s brilliance was something that could be taught, instead of the once-in-a-generation sort of intuitive genius that Itachi was.  A heavy burden for any child - and exactly the sort of thing that sundered the bonds of brotherhood worse than anything else.  Kurenai thought about that for a second longer, and then pulled Itachi a little off-course, into one of the maintenance closets near her classroom.

"Instructor Yuuhi…?”  Itachi asked, a little confused, finally letting his genjutsu fail.  Kurenai crouched down, the better to be on his level and look him in the eye.

“Itachi, I’m sure your father’s expectations aren’t easy to live up to,” Kurenai said, leaving it vague if she meant the expectations for Sasuke, or for Itachi himself.  "But I also know you’re a great older brother, and your support will be worth more than gold to Sasuke as he grows up.  Don’t forget that, no matter what happens in the future.“

"Do you really think so?”  Itachi ask tremulously.  He sounded very young, and Kurenai wondered, for the first time, if Itachi should really be here in the heart of the Leaf’s clandestine operations.  He was so very young, and even Kakashi had been older when he’d joined ANBU after the war.

“I know so,” Kurenai said firmly, squeezing his hand in both of her own.  He pulled his hand away from her grip, and Kurenai wondered if she’d been too familiar.  She was just a casual acquaintance, when all was said and done-

“I got you a present,” Itachi said quickly, holding out a package of slightly squashed dried persimmons.  "I was going to give it to you after class, but since we’re alone, now is fine, right?“

Kurenai let herself grin.  "Now is fine.  Thank you for the gift, it’s so thoughtful!  You should hold onto it, though - we can have tea after class and and eat them then.”

Itachi fairly vibrated with happiness.  "Really?“

"Really.”  And Kurenai held her hand out once more, trusting her new friend to hold it once more.

#shipping prompts #naruto #the author as tyrant

[polarishq]

Meet SHILOH POWELL. They are UNKNOWN/THIRTY TWO years old and hail from JERSEY CITY, NEW JERSEY. Shiloh embodies the constellation, PHOENIX. They use she/her pronouns. Their faceclaim is EMMY ROSSUM.

Phoenix reminds me of Hey What’s Up You Guys, Welcome Back to My Channel, imposter syndrome, only knowing second-hand love, the sterile smell of a hospital room, can’t do math (both because of the gay and because she’s never had a formal education), trying to navigate the terrifying world of Instagram notoriety, a sudden shift in the mannerisms of someone you’ve known your whole life, private hobbies learned in rare spare moments, an unwilling devotion to the stars, the story of Sisyphus, an attention to detail, beanies. Beanies in every color. So many beanies, universal across time and space and identities. A secret beanie cove. Beanies!!!!!!!!

BIOGRAPHY

Major TWs: Various terminal illnesses, and talking about them in a somewhat casual manner.

When Shiloh wakes up as Shiloh, she comes to know herself as a twenty-nine year old Twitter-famous witch with a heart defect, and the first thing that springs to mind is: “Well, at least it’s not another brain tumor.” When you have a mission, particularly when you don’t know what that mission actually is, brain tumors are problematic; they affect your mood, and your memory, and as they grow, your cognitive functions begin to slow, making your already limited time on earth more difficult to navigate. For someone like Shiloh, who has a short yet undetermined amount of time to fulfill a task, staying in operation until the end is imperative. Of course, heart problems come with their own set of complications; namely, she doesn’t know when time is running out. One day she can be out on the town, smokin’ cigarettes and fucking strangers and having a grand ol’ time, and the next—boom, dead.

Shiloh has been a puppet for the stars for centuries, now, as have all who have been cursed with the Phoenix sponsorship, and it’s frankly a pain in the ass. When Shiloh first came into consciousness, it was somewhere in the astral plane, face to face with the former Phoenix—a boy with bags under his eyes, a failure, tasked with passing the torch onto his successor before their spirit dies permanently. The message was simple: “To live, you must complete the task before your current body dies. Your time is limited, you do not know what it is ahead of time, but it is a significant goal that impacts the world in some way, even if you cannot see that in the moment. If you succeed, you live out the remainder of that body’s life before you move onto the next. If you fail, you get no second chances. You die, and that is it.” … Load of fucking bullshit, if you ask her, because who does that? But sure enough, Shiloh blinked and woke up in the body of a young girl with tuberculosis, and from that point on, it’s been nonstop.

It’s also worth noting that Shiloh is not really Shiloh, though for the sake of this life, she is. She actually doesn’t know who she is, as she’s constantly assuming the identities of others and must step as seamlessly as possible into their lives without drawing a great deal of attention to herself, which is neither easily said nor done. She has formed hobbies that follow her from one life to the next, has developed her own set of moral standards, but there is not much freedom in the way that she lives. Sometimes she is born a wife, or a grandpa, or a moody teenager. Sometimes she has a week, or several decades. She’s not always born into the body of a witch, but her powers seem to follow her where she goes—occasionally they coincide with the original host, but not always. Mostly, she doesn’t know why she continues to live life the way she does. There is nothing to gain aside from the possibility of perhaps one day finding peace, or happiness, or love, which Shiloh has only come to know second hand (waking up in the bed of someone’s lover, feeling the way they touch her and knowing that person was loved so deeply, but it’s not her, she’s merely an intruder, always an intruder). It’s a thankless job (congratulations, you did it, have an autoimmune disorder as a display of our undying gratitude!). Every life she comes to realize more and more what she will never have, but for now, she continues to fulfill her duties as though something might one day change.

Anyway, when Shiloh wakes up as Shiloh, not only can she tell she’s a twenty-nine year old witch with an ungodly amount of Twitter notifications, but she’s quick to find out she’s famous this time. Not, like, Angelina Jolie with the paparazzi kind of famous, but Youtube famous, with a boisterous channel with millions of followers and daily content, an aesthetic Instagram and—for the love of God—a fucking TikTok account. This comes with the perk of being able to review hours of content of the body she’s inhabiting, picking up quirks and mannerisms and speech patterns, but also with the added complication of being under the scrutiny of a lot of people. Documented slip-ups are never good. Shiloh also comes to find that she can’t just disappear, because she’s the oldest of a large, loud Jersey family who depends on her income to keep a roof over their heads, so it’s not like she can exactly start a scandal and get herself “cancelled” as was her original inclination. Fine.

What she does do is eventually take her channel down to weekly posts, boosts her acceptance of Instagram ads to supplement the income (those are pretty easy), and enrolls at Polaris, where she’s found her missions take her often these days. It’s always weird, seeing people she knows and has formed relationships with under different identities, but it doesn’t take her terribly long to adapt, as it’s not the first time she’s had to wrestle with this notion.

Although her first few months at Polaris were uneventful, the day Shiloh met Light, who introduced her to a famous serial killer group called the Lunatics, she felt the first piece of the puzzle click into place. She’d like to say she fit in like a glove, but that’s only an accurate depiction if we’re talking about that OJ Simpson glove; suspicious, divisive, and enigmatic. Her appearance caused problems from the get-go, though that was likely because she’d infiltrated their ranks and was the one who felt most comfortable calling Light out on their abusive bullshit. When Light began to abuse her too, locking her up in rooms, staving her, putting her though physical and mental trauma to try and beat her in line, Shiloh only felt like she was getting closer and closer to what the stars actually wanted. Maybe Light needed to be handled, or perhaps the others needed to be freed, or perhaps the Lunatics would lead her to a certain mark. Whatever it was, Shiloh felt confident that she was on the right path.

—Light’s dead, now. No matter the who, or the what, or the why, for this immediate bullet point, and things are in disarray. Shiloh hasn’t received any indication that she’s solved her mission, and with this new distraction, she’s terrified that her clock is running out and she’s been wasting her time with a group that has nothing to do with what Phoenix actually wants from her this go-around. But she can’t just disappear, because some of them suspect her as it is given her newcomer status, and Shiloh’s got too much at stake in this current lifetime (the Powell kids, the fact that she finally got James Charles to follow her back on Instagram, having no other leads), so she remains in it. Might as well see this through until the bitter end.

INCLINATION

Those with the Phoenix sponsorship are not truly people, but simply a consciousness; meant to be a foot soldier for the stars, Phoenix is always a passionate, cunning individual with an affinity for fire magic, though sometimes they inhabit bodies of witches with different inclinations and can pick up some of those skills, though they lose them again as soon as they’re reborn. These individuals wake up in the body of a person, always with a limited lifespan (often a terminal illness, though occasionally death is destined another way) and is given that limited time on earth to fulfill a certain duty for the stars; if they succeed, they are reborn, but if they fail, the torch passes on. Phoenix is one of the more cursed constellations, despite most people thinking its’ representative of second chances, but with the right person at the helm, Phoenix makes more of an impact on the world at large than most people will ever know.

CONNECTIONS

In the Know: This is either a Polaris staff member/professor, townsperson, or someone who’s been around for centuries that knows the nature of Phoenix and is the one common thread who has known Shiloh throughout multiple identities/rebirths. They might be helping Shiloh try and find a way to keep one identity and be able to live life the way she wants, so she seeks them out early so they can continue their work.

Fan: Someone who’s been watching Shiloh’s channel for years and picked up on the shift in her demeanor. They’re likely nosy and Shiloh avoids them at all costs.

Sibling: Fuck it, a younger sibling who’s also at Polaris and is probably also low key suspicious of changes in Shiloh’s behavior. Bonus points if it’s Jeremy Allen White.

Filling Maryanne Brooks’ #WifeGoals.

Filling Ethan King’s Bad Influence.

Filling Izabel Navorra’s You Spin Me Right Round.

Penned by Ashley★

#phoenix. #fire. #student. #taken. #ashley.

[numeronubisexualhawkeye]

Tuck and Roll

3060 Words

sequel to Take Cover 

(got like 4 requests on here and another 4 on ao3 to finish this so i’ll be posting the next 3 chapters on my ao3, MajorMinor)

The first two weeks in Portugal were infuriating. Despite the fact that Theo was a big donor to the graduate school Clint and Natasha were pretending to be enrolled in, he was elusive. Natasha had gone against all logic and spent her days trying to go after Theo by herself, spending hours out in town and in the university, scouting out the locations they had been tipped off about Theo’s trafficking. It was hard doing it alone, or at least she felt as though she was working alone.

After their argument that first night, Clint had become reclusive. He only ever signed to her, which she only managed to catch bits and pieces of, she had only just started learning ASL which was miles different than the Russian standard she had been taught in the Red Room. Natasha had only spoken to him in Russian some days, trying to reciprocate his stubborn attitude. She knew he didn’t understand it well enough to respond, and felt it was a fair trade for him only signing to her for the first few days after their fight.

By the end of the first week though, their silent treatment had run its course. They needed to speak to each other to work and to survive, but since Clint was still too much in his own head to do that, they took to treating this as if it were a solo mission. Natasha would go out during the day and talk to Theo’s colleagues and clients, coming off as an enthusiastic grad student that just wanted to get to know him. Clint going full covert mode and spending night after night in the tow, putting that Hawkeye codename to use as he watched Theo move about the city.

Neither one of them ever had much to report back at the apartment. Theo was elusive, working as indirectly as possible when he could. Clint had caught mostly only been able to watch him through the windows of his home, which was occupied only by him and his house staff. There was nothing redeemable about what Theo was doing, but at least he had the nerve to not have a wife or kids amongst his business. By the third week, both of them were tense from their own emotions and lack of action. Clint wanted to spring a trap in Theo’s house, draw him out and ambush him. Natasha wanted to catch him off guard, get under his skin, and work her way to where she needed to be to get this job over with.

On the Friday of their third week however, there was a breakthrough, a gloriously simple one, but a breakthrough nonetheless. Natasha had been in the library of the university, flipping through some tome on Portuguese art, when she heard a murmur of voices behind her. She shut the book and looked around the shelves, and there he was; Theo.

There was a gang of students and staff going up to him, telling him how grateful they were for his generous donations to the library and various departments of the school. Natasha made her way toward him, and he caught her immediately. He waved off the people around him and stepped to her.

“Hello! Long time no see. How have you been?” he started.

Natasha slipped into the sugary voice she had used the night they first met. “Oh fine, same as always. Me and David have been meaning to get out, but work and school keeps us busy.”

Theo smiled. “Well, I’m sure I can help you with that.” He took a card out of his pocket, wrote down an address and phone number and passed it to her. “Join me for dinner someday. You can set it up with my assistant. I’d be more than happy to show you the more...secretive pleasures this city has.”

Ew. “Thank you. I’ll tell David, I’m sure he’d be glad to get to talk to you.”

Theo’s expression wavered a little at that. “Ha. Well, I hope to see you again soon Anya.”

When Natasha had told Clint about the set up, he looked annoyed, but she didn’t wait for him to have any smart remarks. “I’ve already set it up for Sunday evening. Clear your nesting hours.”

When Sunday rolled around, Natasha was itching with anticipation. Finally, something to fucking do on this mission. The restaurant wasn’t far from the apartment they had been holed up in, so she walked, Clint following closely on the adjacent streets until they both reached the restaurant, where Theo was waiting outside.

“Ah, Anya, I’m so glad to see you.” he had his arms stretched wide for a hug. “Where’s David?”

“He got food poisoning, but he sends his regards.” She heard Clint chuff out a laugh in her comm.

Theo led them inside to a table toward the back of the restaurant. There was a guard standing on either side of the table, which put Natasha on alert. Theo may have presented himself as an elusive and private man, but this was a clear indicator of his shady dealings on the side.

Clint was somewhere in the upper floors of the neighboring building, watching through windows and seeing she and Theo's every move while being completely invisible to any untrained eyes. Natasha felt about as safe as possible on missions like this. Even if Theo or either of the men standing guard beside him tried something, she could take them out, and if she couldn't, well, Clint's code name wasn't Hawkeye for nothing.

She drank one glass of wine and picked over her food. She may not have been as susceptible to alcohol as Theo may have been, but she didn't want him to get the idea that she was too comfortable around him. This had been arranged as something strictly professional, discussing the programs at the university, gaining his trust so she could get into his professional circles, not personal.

“So, Anya,” Theo said, “what exactly brought you and your um, husband, here?” He said ‘husband' the way little kids talk about broccoli. It was something gross and annoying, something he wanted to push to the edge of his plate and flick to a dog waiting under the table.

Clint could hear everything through the wire she was wearing. Natasha gave a small smile. “Well when we met in undergrad, we were both on a humanities track, European history and all. So when we graduated, and then married, we decided, why not come to the heart of where all great exploration began y'know? Get a hands on experience in that history.”

Theo smiled and laughed. “Smart girl you must be. Not many people appreciate a woman with so much, curiosity and appreciation for the Old World.”

“Well we both paid 35k to get degrees in it, so I would hope to have a bit of appreciation for it.” Natasha tried to keep bringing Clint, well, David, in the conversation, keep Theo's focus professional. His files had said that he worked with his traffickers and clients through his allies, professors and politicians with a taste for their students and interns.

Professional is what was preferred, but Natasha had a sick feeling that she was going to have to take the personal route. This mission was already going into its third week without much progress. The stress of this mission plus the added weight of the tension between she and Clint made working conditions seem far worse than they actually were. Natasha just wanted the whole thing to be over with so they could go back stateside, and she could request a new partner.

“Ah, you Americans and your money. I can respect it though, spending it on such a quality education.” Theo said as he waved down the waiter. “I’ll take check now. Both our meals are together.”

“Oh no, I can pay.” Natasha said determined. Professional, this was professional, she didn’t want Theo to get any funny ideas. But he had funny ideas when he first saw her, and when she took this dinner. He was expecting something from her now, especially after three weeks of trying to weasel herself to this exact scenario.

“Please, it’s my pleasure.” Theo’s voice dropped to that low gravelly tone older men take up when they think they’re being sexy, when in reality they sound like a dog with a bad chest cold.

“Natasha.”

Clint’s voice in her ear was a shock, and she fumbled with her reply after he disrupted her. “Well, if you insist, but I’m not making this a habit.”

“Natasha.” Clint was sounding more irritated. The fact that he was saying anything at all was a surprise to her. There hadn’t been anything especially insightful during this dinner. All she had learned was Theo was the same as every old sleaze that preyed on women; too much money, and not enough people telling him no. Natasha was begging for anything, anything to happen so she could get an opening on this guy. How could someone this simple be so hard to infiltrate?

The waiter left to bring back the check, and it was just the two, well three, counting Clint’s now active part in this conversation, of them.

“So,” Theo started, “any plans for the rest of the night?”

Fuck. It was such an obvious move to get any intel that she needed to wrap this mission up, but she didn’t want to do this. But why? She had slept with more men for work than she had for her own enjoyment, it was the one death she couldn’t escape, even now after so many months with Shield.

“Don’t you dare.” Clint’s voice said harshly in her ear. She wanted to be irritated with his interjections, she dealt with men like Theo for a living, she could handle this. But something about having Clint in her ear made her anxiety worsen. He was watching her, he could see everything, hear everything, Theo didn’t know, but what if he did? Was he trying to set her up? Would they get back to his penthouse and there would be Clint, tied up and beaten to a pulp by one of Theo’s goons? No, he couldn’t know, he had barely lifted his gaze up from the neckline of her dress, even with the modest cut he wouldn’t stop staring.

Why was she so worried? This was work, Theo was work. Clint was a part of work. But when Theo reached his hand across the table and placed it on top of her’s, she pulled back harder and faster than she had meant to. His touch snapped her out of her stupor.

“I’ve got to get home to David.” she said. Clint’s cover name felt like an anchor, and just like everything about this night and this mission, she hated it. Why did he have such a hold on her all of a sudden? Why was she letting Clint’s hooks get into her? Natasha had dealt with men like Theo, would keep dealing with them even if she ever had the chance to leave Shield. They had barely spoken to each other since the first night, but now all of a sudden, she wanted to be home, no, in the apartment, don’t make this personal Natasha. She wanted to be in the apartment with Clint. Why? Why, fucking why?

“Ah, perhaps another time then.” Theo said, if he caught wind of her sudden anxiety, he didn’t show it. He leaned across the table to grab Natasha’s hand and kiss it, but she snatched away and got up abruptly.

“Until next time senhor.” Natasha said before she whipped around and walked out the restaurant.

The entire walk home, Clint was silent in her ear. She caught a few quick glances of him moving through the streets as they both made their way back to the apartment, but neither one of them made a sound. He had reached the apartment before her, the door already unlocked when she got there. Inside, he was sitting on the couch, but his posture was rigid, and he stood up when she stepped inside.

He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped.

“If you have something smart to say, just say it Barton.” Natasha snapped. She didn’t give him time to answer, just kicked off her heels, and shut the door to the bedroom.

Again.

No.

You sound like a porn star.

Do it again.

Come on babe.

Fucking Christ Natalia, do it again.

Again.

Natalia!

You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous

“Natasha.”

Do you want to go back under?

Do it again.

“Wake up.”

Anya.

You’re not like the others.

Do you like that?

Natalia.

“Nat.”

Any plans for the rest of the night?

“Natasha. NATASHA!”

She bolted upward, butting her forehead against something hard. She winced and pushed away at whatever she had hit, hands fumbling in the dark. Her fingers brushed against skin, and she screamed.

“Hey, hey!” a light switched on, and there was Clint, kneeling in bed beside her. “Chill, you’re okay. You’re okay.” his voice was soft but stern.

Natasha got out of bed and stood there staring at him for a few seconds, breathing heavily. The back of her neck was beaded with sweat despite the fact that the air conditioning was on full blast. She felt shaky and a little disoriented. She stumbled forward, trying to muster up the attitude she had had with him the last couple of weeks so she could push him out of the room and go back to sleep. But she tripped over herself and had to put her hands down in front of her to catch her on the mattress.

“Woah, are you okay?” Clint inched forward on the bed, hands outstretched cautiously.  Did that Theo guy give you something?”

She shook her head. She was fine, wasn’t she? Theo was just another disgusting human to be dealt with, she could handle this, she could. But why was his voice in her head hours later? But it hadn’t just been Theo’s voice. It was never just going to be Theo’s voice.

A shiver ran through her body, and Clint noticed. She felt his weight settle next to her on the edge of the bed. “Nat.”

She swallowed hard and took in a gulp of air. What did she want to say? What could she say? Sorry for waking you up with my nightmare screaming. Go back to the couch, I’ll be fine once we kill this guy.

“Do you need some water? Aspirin?” Clint asked.

Natasha’s voice finally remembered how to work. “Vodka.” she said hoarsely. “Well, anything alcoholic, if we have it.” Clint nodded and went to the kitchen.

Natasha sat in the same position, barely moving while he was gone. There had been so many men like Theo before that she couldn’t count them if her life depended on it. Human traffickers, drug peddlers, arms dealers, straight up fucking war criminals, why was he sticking so hard and why had he brought them all back into her head at once? And he hadn’t just brought up the men she had killed or put away. Fucking Christ Natalia, do it again. The Red Room. The instructor who had trained her to do the very thing she was supposed to do without any fear or anxiety was coming back years later, and her voice still sent waves of emotions so horrible Natasha didn’t have words in any language to describe them.

She was glad when Clint finally came back into the room with a glass of vodka in one hand and the entire bottle in the other. She took the bottle and shot back a few gulps before setting it on the nightstand.

“Bad dream” Clint asked.

“Bad life.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Both of them taking swigs from the bottle, the glass forgotten on the nightstand. She was starting to cool off, the sweat on the back of her neck feeling too cold against her skin. The shakes in her body had stopped, and she could breathe easily again. Despite all that, she was wide awake.

“How did you hear me?” she asked suddenly.

Clint passed the bottle back to her. “What?”

“You. How did you hear me?” she looked over to the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was 2:36 in the morning. “I know you don’t sleep with your hearing aids in, especially not on non-violent missions like this. So how did you hear me?”

He turned his face away from he, unable to answer. He might not have been looking, but Natasha knew the body language, it was shame. But what for?

“I kept them in tonight.” he finally said, face still away. “You looked so rattled when you got back, thought that guy might have slipped you something, so I stayed awake as long as I could until I was certain you were asleep and no one would break the door down. I heard you screaming about thirty minutes after I fell asleep.” His words came slowly, like he kept debating if he should stop, or change his story, but he didn’t.

There it was, that concern that she didn’t need. She tensed again, preparing to be angry, but the feeling swelling in her chest wasn’t hot, it was a different kind of heat. Her entire body felt flush with embarrassment.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. We all have bad nights. Comes with the job. Just gotta hope they don’t turn into even worse days.” He got up from the bed. “You can keep the bottle.”

“Clint,”

But he was already to the bedroom door, closing it gently behind him. Natasha let out a sigh, took a few more swigs from the bottle, and went back to sleep. She left the light on, just in case she woke up again, but she didn’t.

When she awoke that morning, Clint was gone. She called him a couple times, but there was no answer. No note, nothing missing from the apartment, his bow and arrows still stashed in the closet by the front door. What she did notice though, was the news report on the tv when she switched it on as she sat down to eat breakfast.

Theo was missing, and so was her partner.

#k.txt #clintasha #fic tag

[precuredaily]

Precure Day 121

Episode: Futari wa Precure Splash Star 23 - “A Showdown at Last! The Menacing Akudaikaan” Date watched: 12 May 2019 Original air date: 16 July 2006 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/pX1bIr8 Project info and master list of posts: http://tinyurl.com/PCDabout

When we left off last time, Michiru and Kaoru had revealed themselves as agents of Dark Fall to Saki and Mai, and begun fighting them, clearly going against their personal desires but overwhelmed by the fear of betraying Akudaikaan, who gave them a life and a purpose. The cold open of this episode flashes back to their creation and assignment to the Fountain of the Sky, which is barren and dried out as you might expect.

Never knowing anything but gray skies and dry trees, they assumed it was normal, because it was the way Akudakiaan liked it, but when they did visit the Land of Greenery, and met Saki and Mai, their lives changed...

We return to the fight. Bloom and Egret continue to refuse to fight their friends, which only angers them further because they insist that they can’t be friends. Egret realizes they’re the ones who rescued them from Dorodoron, and both cures thank them. Bloom and Egret remind them of the ways they’ve helped out, and the nice things they’ve done, and point out that these are not the actions of people who want to truly destroy all life. Kaoru and Michiru admit that it’s to make Akudaikaan happy, which translates to making them happy, but Egret sees through the anguish on their faces as they say this. Bloom insists that they can change their destiny, and she’ll show them how. Michiru doesn’t believe this is possible but Kaoru stops her, as she starts to accept Bloom’s words. They propose to renew their friendship and restore the Fountain of the Sky to its full glory so Michiru and Kaoru can see it in all its beauty, but Gohyaan arrives to interrupt. He drags Michiru and Kaoru back to Dark Fall, and Bloom and Egret latch on, not wanting to let them go, and end up in Dark Fall as well. Thus, they all come face to face with Akudaikaan.

Bloom and Egret want to fight him, but Michiru and Kaoru stop them. Instead, they march up to him themselves and beg him to spare the Land of Greenery. Their passion is genuine and the courage it must take to stand up to such a powerful force like this, to betray your purpose, is immense, but they do it. Akudaikaan is not impressed, however, and he starts to torture the two of them for their insubordination.

Bloom and Egret rush to their wounded friends and demand to know why he would hurt them like this. Akudaikaan goes on to say that they are merely servants to him, nothing more, and he has no room for servants who don’t follow his orders, and no forgiveness for those who defy him. He prepares to torture them again but this time the Precures spring into action. They block his attack, kick and punch him, and even launch a Twin Stream Splash directly into his chest. Unfortunately this is not enough to even tickle the ruler of Dark Fall and he taunts them by saying he hasn’t even used half of his full power. As he gets ready to attack the Legendary Warriors, this time Michiru and Kaoru come to their rescue. They exude bright yellow light, overpowering Akudaikaan’s dark energy, and sincerely thank Saki and Mai for showing them kindness, compassion, and friendship. They hand over their six remaining Miracle Drops from within their necklaces and teleport the Precures away, sacrificing themselves to Akudaikaan’s power.

I don’t have the words to properly describe this scene, but it is both moving and sorrowful as the culmination of Michiru and Kaoru’s journey. I will discuss it more in the analysis.

The next thing Saki and Mai know, they’ve been transported back to the Land of Greenery outside the Sky Tree, about where they left, and they’re back to normal. They beg Flappi and Choppi to return them to Dark Fall so they can rescue Michiru and Kaoru but the fairies don’t have that kind of power. All four of them are crying at their inability to save their friends, and the incredible sacrifice that was made. Saki says that a victory like this is unbearable, and the screen fades to black as the episode ends.

I’ve said all along that the Kiryuus’ arc has a lot in common with Kiriya’s arc from the first season. This is pretty plain to see: both of them are human-looking school-aged villains who decide to infiltrate the human world and get close to the Precures in their daily lives to figure out their strengths and weaknesses, while another general makes more overt attacks. They sometimes work together but the infiltrator always maintains their secrecy. But Kiriya honestly didn’t do much. There were a few episodes where he either didn’t appear at all or only appeared to make ~evil grins~ when Poisony failed. Since Verone was a gender-segregated school, he didn’t have classes together with Nagisa and Honoka, so their bond was formed entirely outside of school, and he only really made a connection with Honoka, who was willing to help him learn but not to let him slack off or be rude to others. Meanwhile, Kaoru and Michiru are present in every episode starting from their debut, they get heavily involved in the school and personal lives of Saki and Mai, they give Dorodoron some tips on how to be more effective (but also undermine him on one occasion), they make bonds with both girls and find themselves entangled in their personal affairs. Kiriya feels he isn’t strong enough to challenge fate, and fights the Precures before yielding his Prism Stone and returning to the Dark Zone to face destruction. Michiru and Kaoru thought they couldn’t change their purpose, but after fighting Bloom and Egret, who refused to fight back, they realized the two cared much more about them than they realized, and that they, too, cared about Saki and Mai. They didn’t want to fight, but rather than simply resigning themselves to their fate, they went to Dark Fall and stood up to Akudaikaan. Kiriya was interesting to watch but the Kiryuus are downright incredible. You can see when they first start to question what they believe, how they subtly help the Cures, how they begin to realize in their hearts that the humans are all right but don’t allow themselves to think it. They aren’t interested in mundane human activities, but Saki and Mai are always so nice to them that they gain an interest by proximity. They simply can’t fight them without lying to themselves about what it is they truly care for, and eventually Saki and Mai make it impossible for them to keep lying to themselves. This is excellence.

Kiriya believed he couldn’t change his fate. Michiru and Kaoru believe they can, and they set out to do so. Even if their pleas fall on deaf ears, they try to appeal to Akudaikaan to share what they’ve learned about the world and change his mind. And they learned that skill from Saki and Mai, who always stood up for what they believed was right, not tolerating interference or injustice, whose first reaction when they were unknowingly manipulated was to apologize to each other instead of getting upset. So they appeal to him. It doesn’t work, and they are tortured for it, but in the end they manage to muster enough strength to protect their friends the same way Cure Bloom and Cure Egret always do, even if it cost them so much more. They want to save the Land of Greenery, and to do so they have to sacrifice their own ability to enjoy it. This is so much more powerful than Kiriya’s own sacrifice, as he simply resigned himself to his fate, while these girls fought against it. I don’t want to sound like I’m knocking his arc (although, in hindsight, it was deeply flawed in ways that the Kiryuus’ arc fixes). It laid the groundwork for these two and many other future turncoat characters in the franchise, some of whom are done better than others. When we get to Fresh Precure, you’ll see the next step of the evolution of this concept as Setsuna becomes Cure Passion, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. (Next year? Fingers crossed.) For now, enjoy the pinnacle of Splash Star as the two villains become the girls’ greatest allies, even sacrificing themselves for the greater good.

Although it’s not quite halfway through by episode count, this is the mid-season climax of Splash Star. The growing threat of the first half culminates in Bloom and Egret fighting Akudaikaan for the first time, much like how Black and White defeated the Dark King for the first time in FWPC 27, and Baldez in Max Heart 23. Normally (and especially in later seasons) this first major defeat is accompanied by a new finishing attack (which just so happens to correlate to a new toy on the toy store shelves that kids can buy), however the Splash Star girls don’t get their new toy until next episode, and in FWPC, they didn’t get the Prism Braces until episode 30, but this concept cements itself more in later shows. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that, we’ll have to see.

In an effort to keep my screenshot gallery from getting exhaustively long (the kind of long I reserve for movies and finales), I was a bit light on the details. There are a number of good facial expressions that I didn’t capture, but I got some, so be sure to check out the gallery linked at the top of this post (and every other one!) for more pictures than I was able to squeeze into the review.

The next review will not be until Sunday, May 19 at the absolute earliest, as I will be on a road trip with only my phone to tie me to the outside world. I may use what little free time I have to catch up on Star Twinkle, and I might share some stuff over on PCD-Status so if you’re not already following that account, be sure to do so.

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 0 Zekkouchou Nari

Miracle Drop Count: 7

#Precure #Pretty Cure #Futari wa Precure Splash Star #FWPCSS23 #PCD121

[noramoya]

* Above is the photo of the e-mail from wade robson to somebody named Francois, on May 21st, 2011 .

PART TWO OF:

LINDA-RAVEN WOODS’

02/28/2019 ARTICLE

•”Why did he lie, claiming under oath he had no knowledge of the Jackson estate in 2013 when, in fact, it is on record that he met with John Branca to discuss the Cirque gig in 2011?”

•”Why do they claim that Robson’s and Safechuck’s stories are completely independent of each other, when the reality is that both have been represented by the same attorneys since 2014?”

•”Why is Safechuck allowed to blatantly lie in the film about Jackson contacting him to defend him in 2005, when attorneys involved in the case have specifically stated that the decision was made that Safechuck’s testimony would not be needed, and that Jackson would not have been allowed to personally contact potential witnesses?”

“Why did early press releases attempt to hide the identities of the two men in question, even though Jackson’s family, the Estate, and fans who had followed this developing story for seven years had absolutely no doubt who the two men in question were?

The obvious answer was a well-planned strategy to “blind side” by preventing these entities (particularly Jackson’s family and Estate) from having time to prepare an adequate response or counter strategy.”

“When the first letter from the Estate to HBO went unheeded, the Estate followed through on its threat and filed a one hundred million-dollar lawsuit against HBO. In that letter, there was mention of a man named Victor Gutierrez who has long been associated with Jackson’s name and has long been suspected as a “source” for the allegations made against Michael Jackson.

The story goes that Gutierrez, a Chilean reporter who came to Hollywood in the mid 1980’s envisioning himself as an investigative reporter, infiltrated a number of NAMBLA meetings (and even gained membership). It was reportedly at these clandestine meetings that Gutierrez heard whispers about certain celebrities suspected of being “in the closet” pedophiles. The alleged goal of NAMBLA was to “out” these celebrities in a desperate attempt to “normalize” their cause.

But there was an issue, since often these names were circulated about with no concrete proof. Rumors and innuendoes were enough. Michael Jackson was one such name that popped up, largely because at the time Jackson was cultivating his “Kid Power” image. Those within NAMBLA’s ranks who were responsible for starting and spreading those rumors failed to take into account that “Kid Power” was part of a two-fold PR plan for Jackson:

1- Because he truly and genuinely believed in the ability of children to heal the world, and

2- As someone who himself had been scarred by childhood stardom, he sought to “give back” by empowering and serving as a positive role model for children in the industry, as noted by his long-time friend and supporter Corey Feldman”. (see videos bellow):

https://youtu.be/u-rtftB-7qs

https://youtu.be/MbwWvyAq5TM

“Those who speak glibly of Michael Jackson’s “obsession” with children fail to note the very fundamental, root causes of that seeming obsession, which seemed to spring deeply from his own pain and an innate desire to protect children from being exploited in the entertainment industry, by the same evil forces that had exploited him. This, and nothing more, appeared to be the source of those rumors. But of all the names mentioned, Gutierrez apparently only took one under his belt to investigate further — Michael Jackson.

It is known fact that Gutierrez actually knew and consulted with Evan Chandler, at just about the same time that Chandler was growing disgruntled with Jackson’s lack of “cooperation” in funding his projects and had grown increasingly jealous of Jackson’s relationship with his ex-wife June, son Jordan, and daughter Lily.”

https://youtu.be/gyStgEsv7Lg

“There has also been a long suspected link between Victor Gutierrez and Rodney Allen, a Canadian man who was eventually busted for running an underage male prostitution ring in Toronto, and who was caught actually coaching his boys how to make up convincing lies about being molested by Michael Jackson. His scheme was revealed when he wrote a series of letters to Diane Dimond at Hard Copy, signed from the boy, and the follow-up investigation led to the boy confessing everything.”

https://youtu.be/fiJBQcfTcSo

“This story is important, as it reveals the lengths that individuals would go to, in order to make up stories about Jackson, where no story existed. This is, in essence, exactly how the cottage industry of making up stories about being abused by Michael Jackson has continued to thrive. Backed with this kind of knowledge, one can hardly blame his fans for speaking out against what is perceived as an obvious vendetta, or for being skeptical when such new “claims” arise.”

“In 1995, the same year that Hard Copy unveiled the scam in Toronto, Victor Gutierrez struck again, this time appearing on Hard Copy himself to claim he knew of the existence of a video tape that allegedly showed Jackson abusing one of his own nephews. However, when pressed, he was forced to reveal that he had no such tape in his possession. This did not stop Diane Dimond, however, from going on KABC-AM radio talk show to promote the tape, even though she had never actually seen any such tape and only had Gutierrez’s word that it existed.

Jermaine Jackson’s ex-wife Margaret Maldonado recalled getting a phone call about the alleged tape in her book Jackson Family Values:

”I received a telephone call from a writer named Ruth Robinson. I had known Ruth for quite a while and respected her integrity. It made what she had to tell me all the more difficult to hear. “I wanted to warn you, Margaret,” she said. “There’s a story going around that there is a videotape of Michael molesting one of your sons, and that you have the tape.” If anyone else had said those words, I would have hung up the phone. Given the long relationship I had with Ruth, however, I gave her the courtesy of a response. I told her that it wasn’t true, of course, and that I wanted the story stopped in its tracks. She had been in contact with someone who worked at the National Enquirer who had alerted her that a story was being written for that paper. Ruth cross-connected me with the woman, and I vehemently denied the story. Moreover, I told her that if the story ran, I would own the National Enquirer before the lawsuits I brought were finished. To its credit, the National Enquirer never ran the piece. ”Hard Copy,” however, decided it would. “Hard Copy” correspondent Diane Dimond had reported that authorities were reopening the child molestation case against Michael. She had also made the allegations on L.A. radio station KABC-AM on a morning talk show hosted by Roger Barkley and Ken Minyard. Dimond’s claims were based on the word of a freelance writer named Victor Gutierrez. The story was an outrageous lie. Not one part of it was true. I’d never met the man. There was no tape. Michael never paid me for my silence. He had never molested Jeremy. Period.” — Margaret Maldonado, “Jackson Family Values”.

[texanredrose]

Omega’s Strength (Pt 5)

As I mentioned at the beginning, I don’t wanna play the guessing game with canon, so here’s where I hash out what liberties I’ve taken to make this non-canon compliant as well as what the plan is going forward.

The official mess was a big, spacious room down the hall on the second deck, with long tables and fixed seats. It never sat well with the majority of their ragtag group, feeling too sterile for comfort and too reminiscent of Beacon for ease, so they instead took their meals in the kitchen area, where the food actually got cooked by whoever pulled the short straw for the day. Most of their rations were the bulk, ready-to-heat style typical for Atlesian military vessels, like the spaghetti and meatballs currently being pushed around her plate by her fork. Ruby had already gone over some things to work on as teams and individuals, with all but the leader of Team SNOW taking well to the criticism. Stryker at least played the role of an interested party, though her gaze seemed to convey a level of concerted disinterest not too dissimilar from Weiss when the Beta was announced as their team leader.

Well, they had experience working with stubborn Alphas. A few good knocks and she'd figure out that the time for fun and games ended a while ago.

"Oh! And, we were able to make contact with Team SSSN!" Ruby announced with a smile that became faked the longer she spoke. "They'll be meeting up with us as soon as possible. Might not be able to reach us before we try infiltrating the base but soon after that! They're, uh, looking forward to seeing us again."

Weiss and Blake exchanged a look, the Alpha's slight frown met with an equally unimpressed raise of her mate's brow. Ultimately, she put her hands up. "We... certainly could use the assistance."

"And they're reliable friends we can trust," the Omega said, pointedly shifting in her seat and likely doing something hidden by the island they were gathered around to set the other woman at ease. "I'm sure a brief word early on is all they'll need to focus on the mission."

"We can certainly hope." Weiss didn't seem convinced and, frankly, Yang didn't blame her; Sun and Neptune hadn't been subtle with their advances and Blake's extended period traveling with the monkey Faunus likely meant the newly bonded mates would have to talk about that at some point in the near future, if they hadn't already. However, as far as Alphas went, Sun landed on the more laid back end of the spectrum, and Neptune could be an admittedly aggressive Beta but proved rather easy to discourage, seeing as he'd never really pursued any of his shameless attempts at flirting. "Do we have any other allies?"

"We're still trying to contact Team CFVY." Her sister frowned. "Professor Goodwitch mentioned that a lot of students stayed back to secure the evacuation for Vale, but communication across the sea is still pretty spotty at best."

Then, Stryker decided to chime in with her first genuine comment since they'd regrouped. "You still call her Professor? This isn't exactly a classroom, you know."

"Showing proper respect to a more experienced Huntress trumps technicalities." Weiss shot back, narrowing her eyes slightly. "We would show you the same courtesy... if it applied."

A flicker of annoyance passed over the woman's face. "Oh, great. You two have the whole 'apple and tree' thing going on."

"And your entire team has the whole 'getting destroyed by people two years your junior' thing going on. It's a very charming theme."

"Weiss," Blake said, her voice neutral. It could be a warning, a reprimand, or an agreement and the majority of them would be none the wiser; only Yang could really get a read enough on the Faunus to tell the single word held more of the former and latter than the middle.

"Look, I get that we're all getting used to each other still, but there's way bigger things going on right now than personal differences," Ruby said, effectively bringing the conversation back on topic. "Normally, I'd be all for duking it out until we can agree to disagree, but we really don't have that option." Her expression hardened, the corners of her lips pulling into a slight frown. "We need to work together, starting now. Any objections?" When Team SNOW shifted, a subtle inhalation proceeding a verbal response, silver eyes shot to the four, irises glistening just a little with untold power. She still hadn’t mastered the enigmatic abilities but they seemed to respond when she thought about certain things, so she could at least try to use them, and it had the desired effect as all movement ceased. "Let me make this really clear. We can use all the help we can get but anyone not willing to put differences aside is just going to get someone else killed in the long run." She leaned back from the kitchen island, crossing her arms over her chest. "This... it's all or nothing. No in between. We've already lost too many friends; I'm not losing any more because of dumb, petty squabbles."

With a small sigh, Stryker nodded, making eye contact with Weiss as she spoke. "Fine. We'll play nice."

Almost immediately, the Alpha opened her mouth to snipe something back but a hand at her elbow stopped her, Blake's fingers soothing the annoyance from her brow easily. Yang watched silently, abandoning any hope of finishing her spaghetti in favor of taking a few steps back and leaning against one of the refrigerators. She couldn't imagine how soothing that must feel, having a mate's touch to calm the storm of one’s anger; getting Weiss to drop a subject once she'd gotten started remained one of the hardest things for her teammates to accomplish, though it seemed now only the sisters were left behind in that department. She'd have to remember that the next time an argument started up about how should be doing the dishes or something.

"What was Sun and them even doing, anyway?" The Omega figured changing the subject now that everyone had agreed to cooperate would be best. Plus, she honestly didn't know; while she was avoiding Blake and trying to figure out what she wanted to say to her partner, the monkey Faunus left on his own mission. "Visiting family?"

"Oh! Right. We should probably go over that." Ruby turned, grabbing something from a bag she'd brought with her and unfolding it. A map of Remnant was laid down on the island after the plates were quickly cleared away. "So, according the the myths and legends that... I guess are actually true, there's four Maidens and four Relics in Remnant, and each can harness the power of either the Light Brother or the Dark Brother." She pointed towards Vale. "We know that Cinder stole the Fall Maiden powers in Vale and that Ozpin has one of the relics hidden somewhere on Beacon grounds. It's why we're trying to make contact with Team CFVY; they can retrieve it for us, since he’d removed it from the vault before Beacon fell." Her finger trailed along the paper to Mistral. "Sun, meanwhile, took his team to try retrieving the relic from Vacuo. If we can collect all four, we can combine them and harness the Light Brother's power to banish Grimm."

"Wait, I thought we were fighting some sort of secret society thing?" Oswald's expression screwed up as he looked at the map. "Why do we need to worry about the Grimm?"

Blake answered him, her expression smooth despite the hint of fear in her eyes. "We are and most of our primary enemies are flesh and blood people. Their leader, however, is some sort of combination- possibly a symbiotic Grimm that combined with a Human to create the creature we are trying to defeat. Salem doesn't appear to have a particular power to command the Grimm, but she can summon them and her base of operations is in the center of a Grimm breeding ground." Absently, her hand reached out, briefly touching the handle of Blush and Wilt attached to her back. Yang couldn't help but wince, remembering all too vividly the trials they went through to gain that bit of intel. Even if she'd yet to actually draw the blade in combat, she carried it more often than not as a reminder and it never failed to pull a concerned twitch from Weiss' brows. "If we can destroy Salem and weaken the Grimm, her pawns will fold soon after."

"But what about these Maidens?" Nigel nodded towards Ruby. "We should try recruiting them to our side, eh? Maybe get one or two out of the remaining three to join us?"

Yang had to physically bite her tongue to keep from speaking her mind on that front.

"Finding them is the hard part," Weiss said. "Aside from the fact they're moving targets, the Maidens' powers are limited to mortal fallibility the same as our semblances. Add to that we're fairly confident that Salem is the Winter Maiden and we've got one person out of millions to find, and only the hope that she'll be a Huntresses. The way the powers transfer, she could just as easily be a teenager rather than an adult warrior."

Everyone unfamiliar with the Maidens' story cringed at that while Yang looked away.

Wisteria tugged on Oswald’s sleeve and he nodded slowly. “That’s only accounting for three out of four- Winter, Fall, and one other. What about the fourth?”

“The Spring Maiden won’t help us.” On top of everything else, she didn't need to think of her mother as well, a harsh edge to her voice as she glared at him. “She doesn’t trust Ozpin and that matters more than anything else, even our lives.”

Thankfully, Ruby decided to press on quickly, a small smile directed at Oswald.

"Basically, it's a gamble we really can't take... and we also have to be prepared if the Maidens try to stop us." The Beta sighed, brushing a hand through her red tipped hair. "After the debacle in Mistral, we're probably going to be labelled threats soon; Salem has agents in every kingdom hierarchy, and they're working against us. Revealing ourselves to people and hoping they'll listen- it's just going to be a bigger and bigger risk the further we pursue it. Which is why we're going to try to find Salem's Atlesian agent; if we're lucky, we can draw attention towards a direct method of engagement while others find the relics. Once we have all four, we can hit Salem hard and end this, once and for all."

Everyone nodded as a sort of firm determination settled over them, with Jaune being the one to move the proceedings along. "So, what are we going to do here in northern Atlas?"

Ruby breathed in deeply, letting out in a long sigh. "Well. That's the fun part."

She bent over the map again, pointing to a spot near the most northern part of inhabited territory in all of Mantle, drawing everyone's attention to it while she explained the plan.

Yang laid on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She'd thought about the whole mission plan from start to finish a dozen times already, hammering her part in the whole thing home. Using the spare uniforms and equipment left aboard the ship, they would infiltrate the Atlesian base and try to find Salem's agent. Winter and Weiss would remain back with the ship, the former Professors plus Qrow on the edge to create diversions if things got too hot, and Team SNOW would be there to walk them into the perimeter; it would be on Teams RBY and ORNJ to find the rat. They didn't have much to go on except that this gear in the machine seemed to about as important as Cinder- an elevated pawn, but a pawn nonetheless. Winter had already given them her thoughts on who it could be and tips for what things they should seek out, but they were essentially flying blind.

The Omega didn't like it. Too much sneaking around, too much subterfuge- she didn't believe for a second she could fool anyone into believing she was a member of the Atlesian military and banking on a charming smile seemed like dooming them to failure. Team SNOW had agreed to help teach them basics- greetings and simple acronyms- but it seemed like they were leaving too much up to chance.

However, an open fight against a fully staffed outpost didn't bode well, either. Qrow had managed to secure them enough dust rounds to be a good stockpile for when they launched the last stage of Ruby's plan against Salem's headquarters, but they didn't have the resources to go into a full blown firefight every other day.

Something would go wrong. She could tell already; Ruby's plans usually worked out pretty well, but her best ones were always formulated in the middle of the problem, the heat of battle, when seconds meant life or death. The rush helped her think and, while this probably constituted the best plan they'd be able to manage given the situation, it wouldn't be until something went terribly wrong that the real plan came out.

She just had to make sure everyone made it that far.

Loud banging on her door jolted her into awareness, glaring at the entrance to her quarters and sighing. Aside from the dull drone of the engines as they pushed further north, everything had fallen silent on the ship and most everyone should be asleep, preparing for the busy day tomorrow. They had about thirty six hours to become believable soldiers; it didn't leave much room for slacking.

With a muttered curse, she got up and went to the door, opening it and finding a scowl coming to her features.

"Hey," Stryker said, one arm against the wall as she nonchalantly stood in front of the blonde. "Still awake, I see."

"Very observant." She crossed her arms over her chest, already guessing how things were about to go. "Wanna get it off your chest now or are you going to waste time trying to woo me?"

"You're really taking the fun out of this, Blondie." The Alpha sighed, running a hand through her hair and missing the twitch of Yang's eye. "Look, I just figure we could help each other out here. Blow off some steam." The blonde growled, showing her teeth a little. Not the least bit intimidated by her display, Stryker chuckled. "Oh come on! Is a little bit of mutual enjoyment too much to ask?"

"Use your hand," Yang replied. "I'm not interested."

"You can't lie for shit, you know that? You're definitely interested in a little action." Pushing off the wall, the other woman took one step closer, nearly invading the Omega's space. "Just... from a different Alpha." Anger flashed across Yang's expression quicker than she could think to stop it, her right hand shooting forward to grab Stryker's lapel and bring her close, left hand drawing back for a punch aimed in the middle of that smug smile. She stopped before putting her fist forward, though, a twitch in her brow speaking to the effort of not immediately following through with the blow. "Touched a nerve, did I? Or is this your version of foreplay?"

"You're really asking for a beating, you know that?" Putting the Alpha through a wall, while cathartic, most likely wouldn't help her in the slightest. Besides that, a question burned on the tip of her tongue and she was using the majority of her energy to keep it locked behind her teeth. In the end, she couldn't, her eyes darting away as her shoulders dropped slightly. "Am I really that obvious?"

"Not really." Stryker shrugged, not bothering to remove the fist still holding her jacket while ticking off her fingers with every bit of 'evidence' she'd gathered during her brief time aboard the ship. "You're not bonded, you just came off heat from what I can tell, there's only one Alpha you get super tense around, she seems to be avoiding you like a pack of Ursa, your entire team seems super worried about you, and you really don't like me arguing with her." Her eyes darted down to the prosthetic before coming back to meet lilac, raising a brow in the process. "I took a stab in the dark that you're hung up on the Specialist and can't get her attention. Her loss, really; Omega like you needs a more attentive Alpha. Plus, she seems like a hardass-"

"There's nothing wrong with Winter." With a shove, she released the woman, scowling at her with her eyes flashing red. "What's going on between us isn't any of your business, and I'm not interested in you."

Catching her balance, Stryker smoothed out her jacket and cracked a smile. "Alright. But if that itch gets too bad, just come find me. I'll scratch it for you, no strings attached."

Not bothering to dignify that with a response, Yang hit the button to close her door and another to engage the lock, stalking back to her bed while quietly fuming. By the time she reached it, though, she had to sit on the edge, head in her hands as she sighed. Obviously, her efforts to appear unaffected hadn't worked, and if she couldn't fool a perfect stranger than the rest of her team had to know as well. They were likely just giving her time and space, remaining supportive without pushing her too far. She could appreciate that but she'd wished someone had told her how pathetic she was acting.

Winter didn't want her. Pining for the woman... there were better uses of her energy.

She leaned back to flop on her bed, staring unseeing at the ceiling once more. Anger spiked and mellowed in waves over different parts of the brief interaction- the slights against Winter, the teasing that she'd normally allow from friends but not strangers, but what stuck out most was her own foolish choice of words. Like an idiot, she'd gone with 'what's going on between us', an entire fabrication if ever there was one and wishful thinking getting the better of her. The Omega's propensity to go all in had created something within her mind, a give-and-take that never actually existed, and she kept buying into it just so she wouldn't feel alone. She felt so pathetic being this broken up over the whole ordeal still. What, would she just keep wallowing in self-imposed misery until her next heat, when she'd hopefully latch onto some other shallow attraction to a comrade? How long until she started baring her throat to that- that cocky brat?

"I gotta get over her," she said to the air, a frown tugging at her lips as she decided to turn in for the night. Yang didn't have much confidence in the words; two weeks later and she felt pain in her chest even glancing at the woman or catching her faint scent while walking through the hallway, especially now that the familiar scent had changed.

She'd noticed it after dinner, that strange addition that said the same thing but smelled different for everyone- the clear indication that the person in question wasn't available. For someone with a mating mark, it would be supplemented with the scent of their mate, a clear warning to any who might get too close without good reason that they wouldn't be welcomed. However, sometimes people just... developed the marker without a scent to accompany it, either through choice or by losing the bond that accompanied their mating mark. The Omega had expected it shortly after her heat ended; her unrequited mark probably upset Winter's body chemistry and, until it healed, the warning to others that she'd been marked would remain. Now that it had presumably disappeared, though, the fact the marker lingered worried Yang.

Just how badly had her recklessness hurt the Alpha? Or was this just the natural progression of the woman ensuring it wouldn't happen again, consciously swearing off even the chance to appear as a mate so they wouldn't run into another issue in the future? Considering their ragtag group consisted of mostly Omegas, Betas, and mated or otherwise unavailable Alphas, it would greatly reduce their chances of triggering another heat. It would be the pragmatic decision... which was probably why Winter made it.

Yang went through her nightly routine by rote, hardly noticing the flash of sensation as she detached her arm and set it on the dresser next to her bunk before settling down for the night. Faintly, it annoyed her that Stryker didn't seem like the sort to remove herself from the equation for the good of the group, but she pushed the thoughts from her mind. If she focused hard enough- if she truly began to believe her own words- then her scent would change, too.

Maybe then, she could move on and leave those shattered hopes behind.

They stood in the cargo bay, wearing the uniforms fished out from the bowels of the ship while Team SNOW demonstrated simple gestures- saluting, marching, standing. It all seemed ridiculous to Yang but she paid attention as best she could, occasionally glancing towards Weiss. The Alpha had accompanied her team but the anxiety showed plainly in her features; she did not like this plan, both because it separated her from her mate and forced her to stay as far away from the action as possible. She might have a comparably weaker constitution than the rest of her teammates, but Weiss would be just as eager to throw herself into harms way to protect them.

For her part, Blake seemed nervous as well. Part of it came from having her ears exposed- not entirely abnormal for Atlesian military forces but not... exactly optimal, either- and a larger part came from sensing her mate's emotions, her attention split between going to comfort the woman and paying attention to the demonstrations. Ruby, at least, seemed entirely invested, though the uniform made her look her age for once. That might prove a problem, though, considering the average age for new military personnel, but Stryker assured them it would be overlooked if they called her ‘baby face’ enough times.

Again, Yang couldn't help but feel like they were leaving far too much up to chance and hoping for the best. It chaffed at her, her nose scrunching up in distaste as the Atlesians demonstrated an about face for the umpteenth time.

"Right, then, now it's your turn." Nigel stepped away from the others, nodding towards their students. "Let's see what you've got."

One by one, they demonstrated the facing movement, until it was the Omega's turn. She did her best but the rigidity of the motion didn't sit well with her, and shifting her weight to one foot while turning around felt awkward with her right side being heavier.

"Try again, Yang." Stryker called out, a crooked smile on her lips. "Unless you want another demonstration?"

"Pass." She grumbled, trying a second time and proving no more successful for it. "Damnit."

"You're trying too hard," the Alpha said, starting to walk towards her. "Do it again. But, slower."

Blake and Ruby exchanged a look while Weiss pushed off from her spot observing, the rest of her team silently debating on whether or not to intervene. She hadn't divulged any information about their late night conversation the night before but they could sense the tension that radiated from the blonde growing the closer Stryker came. A snarl tugged at her lips, brows furrowing as she quite nearly started chewing the woman out, but a crisp order halted her in her tracks.

"Stop." Everyone turned to see Winter striding into the room, a duffel bag under one arm and a severe look on her features. "You're not going to get anywhere if everyone acts like new recruits."

Stryker opened her mouth to respond but obviously thought better of it, crossing her arms over her chest and ceasing her advance. Instead, Oswald piped up, motioning towards the bag. "So, what's the new plan, Specialist?"

"Give some of you a bit of clout." She dropped the bag on the ground and motioned for Blake and Ren to come closer. "Your cover story is that you're being assigned to the base but your transport came under fire, correct? No one's going to believe that a handful of fresh recruits managed to survive this far north on limited supplies without a superior aiding them." Kneeling down, she pulled out coats of a slightly different style, handing them off to the two she'd called over. "These will make both of you look like Sergeants. You're young but capable. Remember that you're elevated above the others; act like it, and no one will question you. If anyone asks how you survived, go with your gut, seeing as both of you have experience traversing Grimm infested wilds."

"That... does seem more feasible." Oswald admitted quietly, looking away when Stryker glared at him. "What? Walking in with two superiors is going to bail us out a little."

"You'll have a better cover than that." Winter looked over at Ruby and Jaune, grabbing something else from the bag. "You two, here: they're Engineer tabs. Put them on your shoulders. You'll be separated from the rest but most will assume you're a bit eccentric and leave you well enough alone. Just steer clear of anyone else wearing tabs like these and no one else will know the difference."

As the two started affixing the tabs to their shoulders, the Alpha pulled one last coat from the bag that looked much closer to her own. She started at it for a moment before standing. "Yang, this is for you."

"What am I going to be?" The blonde walked over, accepting the jacket and giving it a once over. It looked like it would be a bit tight around her shoulders but, hopefully, she wouldn't be doing much fighting in it.

"A Specialist." The woman clasped her hands behind her back. "Specialists exist outside the normal hierarchy and we're given a wide berth because of that. Between you, Blake, and Ren, no one will think twice about the group surviving and making it to the outpost. Your new cover story is that you're on a mission to drop off recruits and pursue Mantle purists in the area. All questions will most likely be directed at you, since you'll be the ranking member of the group."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea." Stryker rolled her eyes. "Put the Valen civilian in charge of actual Atlesian soldiers. Nothing can go wrong."

The Omega bit her lip. As much as she wanted to glare at the woman... she did have a valid point.

"Plenty can go wrong," Winter said, taking the criticism in stride. "And when it does, you'll have two Sergeants who don't care about their future careers and a Specialist who can benchpress a two ton truck." She turned her head, favoring her fellow soldiers with a sharp look. "I realize you four have yet to spend a day in the real military, but those aspects alone can get you out of a surprising amount of situations. A few more alterations and you'll have people jumping out of your way." She turned her attention to Oscar, who looked decidedly less mature than the rest of them, especially in the uniform. "I trust you've got your own plan."

"Uh, yeah..." He looked slightly concerned, one hand going to the collapsed cane at his hip. "It sounds risky but... if you can get us in, we'll manage. I'll manage. Whatever."

The young man didn't seem entirely convinced of that but the woman nodded regardless, looking to Nora next. "You'll be the communications officer. It's a fairly simple change; just tuck your lapels in and don't stop talking once someone asks you a question."

"Oh, I can do that!" The redhead smiled, though she tilted her head to the side. "But I can get kinda... carried away, until Ren stops me."

"That's precisely what I'm hoping for." The Alpha nodded. "It will help establish Ren as your superior and I'm sure your imagination can conjure up a suitably dire situation that you lot narrowly escaped. Just make sure that no one corrects her; everything she says will be taken as truth as long as no one objects."

"You really think they're going to buy this?" Yang couldn't help but ask, still holding the Specialist jacket in her hands. Especially given the confusion during Team SNOW's introductions, she didn't think an Omega could pass for a ranking officer in the Atlesian military.

"That comes down to you, really, and I'm confident you can pull it off." Winter favored her with a small smile. "I'll teach you what you need to do. In two hours, you'll be able to fool the majority of the Atlesian military into thinking you are exactly who you say you are."

The blonde struggled with a verbal response, at once wanting to agree, to bank on the Alpha's confidence in her, while also wanting to vehemently disagree, not looking forward to two hours spent with the woman. It would be torture but, at the end of the day, they needed to do this, and she needed every advantage she could get. With a stilted nod, she grunted out something vaguely affirmative and followed Winter out of the cargo bay.

Once they were out in the hallway, she found her voice, though it wasn't nearly her strongest. "We couldn't do this back there with the others?"

"They need to be surprised by your behavior. A Specialist being attached to the transport last minute makes far more sense than one travelling with the group for a long period of time," the woman said, leading them into one of the combat simulators. "If they appear unused to your demeanor, it will help sell the ruse."

"Fine." She sighed, rolling her neck. "So, where do we start?"

"The jacket, put it on." Winter turned around to face her, adopting a rigid posture with her feet shoulder width apart, hands clasped behind her back, and chin tilted up. "You need to associate this uniform with absolute power. We exist outside the chain of command and the moments we're subject to it are few and far between. Your mission supersedes that of others and the Atlesian military at large, no matter what it is. But you must carry yourself as if you're constantly aware of this. You're focused on your mission, you're mindful of your importance, and no one save for General Ironwood himself can dissuade your from your chosen path."

"I thought Specialists were just Hunters that decided to join the military." The fabric felt just as heavy as the other jacket but seemed to move a little better for some reason, but it still fit her tight across the shoulders. Styled more like Winter's, the first button sat below her diaphragm, effectively framing her chest much like her old jacket did, so she at least had that little bit of familiarity going for her. The long sleeves were a bit annoying though, and she could feel the cuffs pulling tight over Ember Celica. If she had to activate her weapons for any reason, the jacket would be a near total loss, especially her right arm. Once it sat on her shoulders well enough, she straightened up and cleared her throat. "How's it look?"

"Rather well. It won't draw anyone's attention as not being made for you, at any rate." The woman looked somewhat uncomfortable for a moment before her expression smoothed out. "And... that's not true, about Specialists. It's more accurate to say every soldier is trained to be a Hunter and given the option to fight only Grimm than the other way around, but we're... highly encouraged to stay within the military system."

Yang frowned, her brows drawing together. "That... doesn't sound very ethical. I thought Hunters were supposed to be neutral forces, belonging to no kingdom and standing strong for Humans and Faunus alike?"

"Admittedly, it's not. Ethical, I mean." The Alpha sighed, shaking her head. "I realize it may sound strange, but Atlas has always been concerned with consolidating its strength as much as possible. The Academy is geared to appear like any other to the casual observer but it... decidedly favors the military, and the majority of our tactics training comes from military doctrine. The Atlesian military is the most flexible fighting force in all of Remnant, precisely because we're training to combat both Grimm and... human adversaries."

"And no one knows?" As much as it struck her as strange she had to admit that it made more sense; how Ironwood could spare so many ships and soldiers for the Vytal Festival without raising a ruckus back in Atlas. It probably only constituted a drop in the bucket as far as the Atlesian military was concerned and most didn't even notice the absence. "That Atlas essentially is raising an army under the guise of protecting Remnant."

"I suspect others do know; they just can't prove it definitively." She held Yang's gaze for a long moment. "The first thing we're taught is loyalty. It's framed as loyalty to our team and the conditions under which we learn it are... harsh, but no more unorthodox than catapulting fresh students into a Grimm infested forest with only their weapons and wits to aid them. The lesson is burned deep and, after that, all it takes is one or two to express an interest in remaining within the military or offered placement in the Specialist program before the others follow suit. Our Hunters are usually those who couldn't make it as Specialists but don't work well with others either; they graduate thinking they've made the decision to pursue their own paths, never realizing that they only had the one open to them anyway." Winter pressed her lips into a thin line. "Those of us who can recognize the signs of subtle manipulation remain silent out of loyalty to the system or because we truly believe it does the most good. Sometimes, it's our only path to freedom, even if it is trading one set of chains for another."

Suddenly, it clicked. "That's why Weiss went to Beacon."

"Yes," she replied with a single nod. "She would never have reached her full potential at Atlas Academy. I embraced the system because it provided me with an escape but I never wanted my sister to follow me there." For a moment, genuine affection shone brightly in her eyes as her lips curled into a small smile. "She's so much stronger than I was at her age. A strong will, a strong heart..." Her expression slid back into that cold mask from before. "She would've seen through the guise and washed out, given subpar training and ultimately denied her dream. Or, she would've killed herself slowly by keeping silent and burdened with yet another set of standards she had no desire to meet."

Yang rolled the information around in her head before she spoke. "That's what you mean by Specialists being a big deal. They're the best of the best, good enough for three other people to follow them into the military, so everyone's going to see in me the reason they're out here to begin with, an ideal they're entirely committed to without question?"

"Precisely."

"Alright. I guess I can get that." She shifted slightly. "I don't agree with it, though." Smoothing out the jacket and trying not to wince at how weird having a sleeve around her left wrist but not her right felt, she continued. "So, should I stand like you?"

"No. Stand like you." The Alpha moved, striding around her while speaking. "Specialists are highly trained and individualistic to a fault. We wouldn't fit into the mold of a regular soldier but we're strong enough to survive on our own. If you buy into the lines, rather than wasting our potential, we're utilized in this capacity; given free reign to adhere to what regulations we choose and disregard those that don't appeal to us. It's an enormous responsibility tempered only by our devotion to our mission." Yang remained acutely aware of the woman's motions as she circled the Omega, following her as best she could from the corner of her eyes. "You're extremely driven, dedicated to your ideals, and stubborn; by all rights, you could've become a Specialist yourself had you grown up in Atlas."

"Comforting," she said, rolling her shoulders and settling for crossing her arms over her chest, shifting her weight to her left foot. If needed, she could quickly react, but she felt more relaxed now than standing flatfooted with her arms at her sides. "Basically, act like myself and if anyone looks at me funny, don't care."

"That's one way of putting it." Winter walked in front of her again. "We'll also need to pull your hair up into a bun."

Yang frowned. "Is that absolutely necessary?"

"Unfortunately, yes." The Alpha looked her over. "You still look like Yang Xiao Long, the woman who broke a man's leg on a Remnant wide broadcast. If we don't do something to change your appearance, you'll be recognized just as easily as Weiss or myself."

She immediately broke eye contact, looking down at the space between him. "He attacked first."

"I believe you." Slowly, she looked up, finding no hint of deception in the woman's expression. "It's clear the events surrounding the Vytal Festival were manipulated by Salem. That's in the past and we can't change it; neither can we expect everyone to accept your version of the events immediately. Avoiding someone recognizing you is the best option and, trust me, once you're sufficiently in the Specialist mindset, no one will even think to imagine what you'd look like out of uniform." Her lips quirked up into a slightly smug grin. "The majority of Atlesian forces are rather scared of us Specialists. Once you capitalize on that, you'll be fine."

The blonde rolled her eyes. "So, basically, walk around like I'm the biggest badass in the room, glare at anyone who tries to stop me, and answer every question with 'classified', and I'll be good, right?"

"It's a little more nuanced than that," the woman replied dryly.

"Oh, right. I suppose I should mention my mission once or twice, too, so that almost every answer is 'classified'."

Winter looked at her for a moment. "Wait, are you teasing me?"

The Omega cracked a small smile and shrugged. "Classified."

For a moment, she just blinked, and then a chuckle escaped her lips that made Yang's smile widen just a little. It felt good to see the woman in higher spirits, more relaxed and smiling. It felt like a small lifetime since she'd seen Winter smile and, despite the pain in her chest knowing this would be as close as they ever could be, it still felt good to be the cause of it.

"Well, if you're done making light of the situation, I'm afraid we've gotten to the part where things are a bit more... complicated." What little amusement had crept into her expression vanished by degrees until she had that serious look in her eyes, lips drawing into a small frown. "Specialists are generally alone for long periods of time and don't have the same bond that other military personnel experience in units. For Alphas, this isn't troublesome; we're inclined to acting on our own in defense of those we hold dear. Betas are decently suited to the task as well." She paused, as if searching for the correct phrasing. "As an Omega, this lifestyle would grate on your nerves. You wouldn't have the team structure you're used to, but you would still be protecting people. Omega Specialists are..." Winter sighed, reaching up to pass a hand over her face while sighing. "They can be some of the most terrifying people you'll ever meet. I've met two and if I never cross their paths again, I'll be all too grateful for it."

Yang's brows furrowed as she tried to search her memory. The list of people who intimidated her actually ran pretty short and, excluding Blake's former partner- the spectre of whom still lurked in the back of her mind- very few actually scared her. She certainly couldn't remember an Omega who'd done such; aggressive Alphas and Betas, sure, the ones who came on too strong sending an immediate spike of warning running down her spine, but she always dealt with them swiftly. In those moments, she could see where the people on the receiving end of her rage might be a bit intimidated, seeing as that was kinda the point, but imagining the circumstances that would lead her to feeling like that all the time or push her to a higher level in the first place...

And then it struck her. Those Omegas likely had to spend the majority of their service on suppressants but that wouldn't negate the innate need for companionship. Even Blake, quiet and reserved as she was, wouldn't be able to remain entirely solitary for long. They might enjoy their company different ways- the blonde preferred the loud and boisterous kind while her partner opted for quiet contemplation- but they both needed to be around others. Bereft of anyone, however, would be awful, and the only time she'd consciously avoided others entirely directly resulted from her disastrous heat.

They couldn't fit into the soldier mold because they either couldn't or wouldn't trust others around them, so they retreated from the world. They'd be angry, resentful, caustic to any who dared interact with them.

"I'll need to be mad the whole time," she said, looking up to see the twinge of regret in the woman's face. "No one wants to deal with a ticked off Omega, right?"

Maybe it counted as a low blow because she couldn't keep the accusation out of her tone. Even if it was for the best and what she wanted... the only reason she felt a little bit of resentment towards Winter for not returning to check on her and sending Weiss in her stead came from a misbegotten idea that the Alpha should've seen the thing through. A ridiculous notion, really, but having to hunt her down after the turmoil passed... it hurt knowing that she wasn't worth dealing with that fallout, even if all it would likely amount to would likely be summed up entirely by the words 'bad idea'. It just came back around to the fact that they weren't mates, weren't anything, and it would've been easier on both of them if Yang had just suffered in solitude. Then there wouldn't be this awkward barrier between them caused by the events of those few days.

"Yang." Blue eyes searched hers for a moment and she caved almost immediately, preempting the apology she could sense coming.

"I shouldn't have said it like that. I'm sorry." The Omega waved a hand before running it through her hair. "It's like you said- it's in the past. We both... I made a mistake and you were doing your best. No going back to change it." A shrug. "The best we can do now is move forward. Right?"

A voice that sounded suspiciously like Blake chided her, saying that this didn't constitute 'talking it out' but she ignored it.

Winter watched her, something flashing across her expression- some sort of regret, that much she could tell- before she nodded. "You're right. Mistakes happen; it's best to forget." Her posture straitened, her voice taking on a crisp edge once more. "But if you happen to be holding onto any anger, I'd suggest keeping it a little longer. It'll help you infiltrate the base." The Alpha hesitated, apparently debating something before she spoke. "It will behoove you to practice in full uniform a bit. That includes your hair." She cleared her throat, coughing into one hand. "May I?"

She hesitated. No one had touched her hair aside from her in years. Not even Ruby- her sister understood that she didn't like it, so she never asked. The only exception happened to be their father, and only because Yang didn’t have her other arm. However, the stakes were a bit too high to balk over being a little uncomfortable. "Yeah. Alright."

"Excellent. Go ahead and sit down."

Considering the lack of chairs in the simulator, Yang had no choice but to lower herself to the floor, crossing her legs as best she could in the tight uniform pants. "How do you stand wearing these?"

"It comes with practice," the woman replied, coming up behind her and kneeling down. "I'll do my best to be gentle. Feel free to correct me if I'm not."

The Omega offered a grunt in response, trying to hide how she'd resorted to breathing through her mouth. Honestly, she couldn't tell whether it was a better or worse alternative, reminded for a moment how the woman tasted when she'd marked her. An itch to bite down tickled at the back of her mind, but she'd just be gnashing her teeth, so instead she focused on the long, lithe fingers carefully combing their way through her locks.

She realized her mistake too late, her eyes almost falling closed. True to her word, Winter carefully tamed the blonde's wild mane with nothing but her fingers, muttering something about using a comb to make it more presentable next time. Every time she winced at the tiniest tug, the woman had already stopped and smoothed the affected area out, offering a quiet apology. Yang didn't really get the whole 'mutual grooming' thing, allowing her mate or even a close friend to mess with her hair just seemed like a recipe for disaster. 

But this was... nice.

"Your hair is beautiful. How long have you been growing it out?" Winter kept her voice soft, as if doing her absolute best to preserve the tentative peace between them. They hadn't been this close since their spar and not since their coupling before that; perhaps the woman felt as if walking on eggshells around each other was the only option left to them.

Maybe, while en route to their next battlefield, they could work out something different. For now, it seemed like the best option, so she replied in kind. "Since I was a kid. I get it trimmed up every few months or so, usually, but it's been a while, and Ruby's not the best barber."

"You've let her cut your hair before?"

"Once. When we were really young." Her lips curled into a smile. "As a matter of fact, that was right around the time I realized I don't like other people touching my hair."

"Weiss mentioned you're rather particular about it. I thought it odd but now... entirely understandable." The snap of elastic procured from somewhere preceded tension at the back of her head, and she winced at the reminder of those few months when she couldn't put her own hair into a ponytail and had to ask her dad for help. He never complained and said it was 'good father, daughter bonding' but all she could focus on was the sense of helplessness. By the time the strands were being wound up into a bun, the melancholy had passed. "It doesn't get in your way while fighting?"

"Sometimes, but once my semblance kicks in, it just... behaves, I guess." She shifted slightly, contemplating if she should dare continuing the conversation before taking the plunge. They'd have to start acting like normal people around each other eventually; as long as she kept herself firmly reminded of the strictly platonic nature of their interactions, she should be fine. "What about you? Does it... feel weird having your hair down now?"

"Weird is a good word for it. I've worn my hair up for so long, having it any other way felt very strange at first," the Alpha replied, a slight wistfulness in her tone. "But I suppose a prisoner might feel the same with their shackles removed. Having it down... I feel freer, less restricted."

"Well, I think your hair is beautiful, too, up or down," she said, and immediately wanted to slap a hand to her face.

Good job. Exactly the sort of flirting you should be doing around the Alpha who rejected you. Way to not come across as pathetic.

Predictably, the woman took her compliment in stride. "Thank you."

Yang felt a slight tug, wincing and using it as a cover to let out a sigh as relief suffused her being. Somehow, that had slid past without further comment and she felt grateful, because trying to explain herself would've been a nightmare and a half.

The snap of more elastic followed by a small hum brought her out of her head. "I think that's the best I can do without a brush. Tomorrow, I will ensure it's perfect." Winter stood up and walked around to in front of her, straightening out her jacket. "Now, stand up, and when you do, do it as a Specialist. I have absolute faith in you."

That makes one of us.

The blonde took a deep breath, trying to bring out her anger consciously. Pushing it down, that came easily, but turning it on... not so much. She usually reacted to something, but the times before when she'd gotten angry didn't seem strong enough to last- the bar, the tournament, those were too brief, and the idea of Blake being in danger brought back memories of Adam, which sparked anger and fear in equal measure.

Instead, she thought back to a few weeks prior, the self loathing rolling through her in waves. She remembered the moment when she fully prepared to lash out at Winter- the woman who'd supported her as best she could in the circumstances and didn't seem to hold her foolishness against her- and every damn mistake since. As she got to her feet, she remembered Stryker's attitude the night before, her insults against the other Alpha, and how much it hurt that she felt compelled to defend someone she'd insulted herself, turning against her when she'd only offered to help.

When she opened her eyes, they were blazing red and fell on Winter with all the weight of a fully loaded airship. Her right arm snapped into a salute as she spoke. "Specialist Betrugs, delivering new recruits." She paused, lowering her hand and furrowing her brows slightly, enough to convey annoyance. "How's that? Do I look the part?"

The Alpha appeared entirely caught off guard, posture straightening the moment Yang's eyes were on her and chin tilting up a fraction. Something flashed in her eyes, darkening them for a brief moment, before it seemed to be chased away. Finally, she seemed to register the questions directed at her.

"Perfect." Winter blinked, shaking her head slightly and clearing her throat. "You- yes, you look the part. Do that tomorrow and no one will think twice about your story. That was an excellent example."

Releasing a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, the Omega rolled her neck and allowed her anger to dissipate. "I'm not sure if I can keep that up for hours on end."

"You really only need to bring it out in full force when others are around," she said, coughing into her hand and smoothing out her jacket once more. "I'm confident you'll be able to manage. Once you're within the perimeter, most will steer clear of you anyway."

"You have a lot of faith in me," she said, rubbing along the back of her neck. Having nothing but the cool air hitting it felt so strange and it would likely get worse once she was out in the elements tomorrow.

"I do," Winter replied, a small smile on her lips when the Omega looked up. "Xiao could I not?"

Yang blinked. "Did you just make a pun?"

"Well, turnabout is fair play, is it not?" The Alpha's smile widened as the blonde shook her head.

"For the record, you Schnees are really bad at them." She couldn't help the little chuckle that accompanied the words. "So, what's next?"

As the impromptu lesson on Specialist etiquette continued, Winter's smile didn't fade, and she found herself wondering if perhaps getting back to normal between them wasn't as out of reach as she'd previously thought. Besides, if she couldn't have the woman as a mate, she at least had her confidence as a comrade-in-arms and that could be just as good. Not what she wanted, but something all the same.

When the lesson ended and they exited the training room, Yang tried to walk away without saying anything more, but her gut betrayed her, twisting into knots until she spoke. "Hey, Winter?"

"Yes?"

She turned to look at the woman, glad that the tightness at the back of her head had disappeared the moment she'd taken the bun down. Even though she could feel nothing but relief on a physical level, it still made her a little sad to have already lost any sign of the woman's work wrangling her unruly hair into something neat and orderly. "Thanks." The Alpha raised a brow. "All that talk about loyalty... abandoning your post to join us must've been a harder decision for you than we initially thought. I'm just..." She offered a small shrug. "Glad you came with us."

Winter paused for a moment before smiling, her shoulders dropping slightly from their severe line. She'd fallen back into a few old habits during their little session but they seemed to slide away as that twinkle in her eyes from before came back. "Surprisingly, it was the easiest decision I've ever made. As much as I'd come to believe in the Atlesian military, I believe in other people more." She turned, heading towards the cockpit. "No matter what, it's a decision I won't regret."

Yang watched her go with a pang in her heart. One day, the woman would make the ideal mate.

Just... not hers.

#TRR writes #Elderburn #Omega's Strength #Elderburn Omegaverse AU