#...I think I Will give her the bamboo cape. I think.

[bebalanced222]

Winter 2021 - The Laura Quinkan Indigenous Dance Festival

May 2021 to September 2021

When I sold my home in Mullumbimby and moved north, all my craniosacral clients were devastated. I told them: “Don’t worry - I shall return every May and September and give sessions and visit my grandchildren. I will email you when I know I am coming!” This was my first trip back since moving to Ravenshoe, and I was pretty much fully booked before I my arrival! I worked from Living Yoga Sanga, in Mullumbimby for 2.5 days a week for 4 weeks, and I was busy!

Notice regarding Covid-19 Vaccine at Living Yoga Sanga

All the practitioners met to discuss recent issues arising from the Covid Vaccine, and this notice was put up for all users of the space. It became a point of contention amongst the general public at the time, but a year on as I write this it has been proven to be true. I think we acted in a prudent and timely way.

The first few days I stayed with my son Jay and his little family, and first thing on my agenda was to purchase a new car. I had kept a modest sum aside when I sold my house, and now was the time. With Jay’s help I found a 2013 model RAV4 with low kilometres on the clock. As much as I loved driving the Purgeot, she was a 2004 model and her days were numbered. 

The second week I stayed with my ex-neighbour Kumari. Not much had changed in the compound (as we used to call it) and I was relieved to see my favourite trees were still standing. Kumari tells me the new owners are lovely people, however we missed our close friendship, the many cups of tea, our hand holding through the inevitable trials and tribulations of family life. It is hard when friends move away.

The next week I moved up to Kittani to my friend Anne’s home - you remember her from the previous blog when she helped me settle into my new home in Ravenshoe. Friends like that are gold! We have such fun together - long chats, fine food, sharing and caring. While I was there Anne made a killer batch of Hot Chilli Sauce, harvested from her garden. And yes, I got to bring a bottle home to Ravenshoe! Thanks Anne.

A killer batch of Hot Chilli Sauce

During my final week I am the honoured guest of my long time friend Susanna in her rather gorgeous AirBnB apartment with the to-die-for view of the stunning sweep of Byron Bay from the Cape all the way north to the Tweed. I was pinching myself! On the 26th of that month Anne came over to watch the Full Moon Lunar eclipse from my little apartment. Grant and Susanna joined us for champagne and nibbles.

What a surprise! On the same day my granddaughter Emily was featured on the front page of the Cairns Post, showcasing apprentices and debunking the men only image! She is a star (mind you I am a bit biased)! 

After finishing my work at Living Yoga Sanga I stayed in Byron Bay for one more week, treating myself to some sessions and some ME time. 

The last weekend I spent with Jay and Holly and the kiddies, and proceeded to finish a gardening job I had started when I arrived - turning their front garden into a welcoming space for the kids to play, cutting back bamboo grass, weeding and mulching. It was a satisfying project because I was imagining my grandchildren playing in that space. 

I left Byron on the 7th of June, loaded up with my favourite foods from 2Die4 Live Foods, jars of Mullumbimby Honey, Aldi buys (there are no Aldi stores north of Rockhampton), Source Bulk Foods whole foods, BrookFarm products and more - all things I cannot purchase in Ravenshoe. Byron Shire is the home to many awesome businesses leading the way in the alternate “slow food” scene. It’s a happening place, but it was time for me to leave. The new car travelled like a dream. 

Memories to take with me:

It was a slow trip back up the coast, stopping off to see family and friends on the Gold and Sunshine Coasts, and giving cranio sessions! I more or less retraced my steps, stopping overnight in Rockhampton and Bowen.

The view from my room at Whitsunday Sands Resort, Bowen

Bowen is one of the very few places along the entire Queensland coastline where you can simply walk off the beach and plunge into a magical marine wonderland on the fringe reef. At Horseshoe Bay I discovered a novel art installation: underwater sculptures! Just 2.5 metres down, snorkelers can explore Bywa, a 3.2 metre high underwater sculpture of concrete and steel that forms part of the Whitsundays Ngaro Underwater Marine sculpture trail.

Indigenous artist Brian Robinson's Bywa sculpture tells the story of Bywa or Waterspout in Kala Lagaw Ya language from the western Islands in the Torres Strait. According to mythology waterspouts are the vessels that carry marine animals up into the heavens for the spirits and ancestors to feed on. Waterspouts are a rare natural phenomenon. A closer look at Bywa reveals it is rich with marine animals common to Bowen waters - Turtle, Coral trout, Mangrove jack, Trevally, Parrotfish, Surgeonfish, Butterflyfish, Sergeant major, Tropical rock lobster, Stingray, Epaulette shark and Wobbegong shark.

The team at Reef Ecologic monitor the interactions of marine life with the artwork, and reef life is beginning to encrust the sculpture. Juvenile cardinal fish were seen using the artwork as a refuge.  

Late afternoon light show by Mother Nature:

I arrived home in Ravenshoe on the 13th of June, just in time for the rapid arrival earth side of Jack Michael Bowden on the 17th, my second great grandchild and second child to Brad and Ash, sister to Evie! 

Brad and Ash live in Weipa, but because it is a remote community, the Health Department do not allow the mothers to birth their babies there. They are flown down to Cairns to wait out the last few weeks. Having family relatively close is good for them and great for us! It allows for lots of bonding time.

Rachael and Scott’s family have been sponsors of the Malanda Agricultural Show for ever and it is a must attend event in their calendar. Held the last weekend of June, little Evie loved the baby animal enclosure. 

Sadly, just a few days later, Scott’s grandmother, Nana McVicar, died on the 29th June after a long illness. She had said her good byes and she died peacefully surrounded by her family. She was one of the last of the early pioneers who carved out a life for themselves in the Far North, nearly a century ago.

The Laura Quinkan Indigenous Dance Festival 2-4 July, 2021

The Laura Quinkan Indigenous Dance Festival is a 3 day camping festival, Celebrating Culture and Recognizing History

Dance troupes from across the Cape York and the Torres Strait will gather in the small community of Laura to showcase stories through dance routines, sharing history and uniting as one.

The township of Laura is the central meeting place for people from the Cape York, as well as being home to Australia’s most significant collection of rock art, it hosts another internationally recognised celebration of Aboriginal culture, the Laura Quinkan Indigenous Dance Festival.

The dance festival grounds at Laura occupy the site of a very old, traditional Bora ground. It’s a respected and sacred site. Here, people from different communities located across the Cape York Peninsula come together to celebrate with music, dance, singing and cultural performances.

The Laura Quinkan Indigenous Dance Festival is the time  where families old and new meet, exchange, rejuvenate and pass on knowledge and history.

https://lauraquinkanfestival.com.au

I received a surprise phone call from my daughter-in-law on Friday morning, inviting me to the Laura Dance Festival, saying they had a free ticket and accommodation for me there. Rio Tinto are a major sponsor of the festival, and due to Covid restrictions a number of staff from interstate were unable to attend. I just had to get myself there! My three grandsons were there while mum and dad were busy on the Rio Tinto stall. I think it helped to have the extra pair of hands!!! Yay! I am the lucky one! Laura is a 4 hour drive north east of Ravenshoe, so I set off early Saturday morning, to witness an incredible spectacle. Let the pictures tell the story.

After a busy (20 cranio clients as well as my quarterly BAS clients) and social July (Laura Dance Festival, family gathering for Nana McVicar’s wake, Aaron, Janine and the kids calling through on their way home to Weipa, water divining to sink a bore, the Freedom Marches in Cairns and Kuranda), I headed back to Weipa to celebrate Aaron’s birthday, and maybe have a well earned rest.

Weipa: 29/7/21 to 19/8/21

“A rest” you think!!! Very funny! First there was the relocation of Beau’s nursery, and the repotting of numerous palms. Beau just turned 9 a few weeks earlier and he seems to have an entrepreneurial bent, so I was keen to support him making a go of this idea. I enjoyed the challenge, and I think Aaron and Janine were relieved to get some back-up. 

And of course the boys are back at school so I am doing the school drop off and pick-up. It creates a certain routine for the day and week - footy practice on Tuesdays and game on Thursdays, Evie’s playgroup Wednesdays, coffee at the Community Centre with Ash on Friday mornings, school lunches, what’s for dinner? Oh no, Zeus has got out again!!! But I love it!

The day I arrived Janine asks me: Do you know how to make a Nappy Cake?

Me: No! What is a Nappy Cake? (I must be showing my age!)

Granddaughter-in-law Denica is about to fly out to Cairns to await the birth of her first baby, and Janine has realised no-one has organised a baby shower for her. So tonight is the night! A quick trip to the shopping centre while Aaron whips up a few salads - these guys are a team!

The Nappy Cake! Well done Janine!

There is no rest for the wicked around here! Aaron is the President of the Weipa Fishing Classic and all year the committee have been having meetings to ensure this signature event goes ahead smoothly. The Weipa Fishing Classic is Cape York’s premier and most exciting fishing competition, with local and interstate anglers competing for a record prize pool of more than $200,000. So tonight is very important - the committee is coming over to taste test an array of wines to choose for the event! Jeez - lucky they have me here! (ha ha ha)

Of course the evening started with Aaron’s signature dish:

Yep - they are ginormous rock oysters from Tasmania! Aaron shows me how it is done - easy!

Happy Birthday Aaron!

16/8/21 Declan Bowden born

19/8/21: Visit Mark & Denica in CNS - meet Declan

23-27 Sept: Micky Memorial Ride - next blog post

[airship-full-of-dragons]

...well Raahen will be getting a makeover

[weirdnaturalscience]

Well-Known and Obscure Toxins: How They Work

Well this is a morbid subject but HEY it’s almost Halloween baby!! I was super curious about what toxins actually do on a molecular level after reading about cone snails. Obviously toxins can kill you, but how?? I wanted to know the grisly details. This is not an exhaustive list, just some types of poison, venom, and other toxic substances I was curious about, so let’s get to it.

Deadly Nightshade

Where is it found? Atropa belladonna grows in Europe, North Africa and Western Asia.

How it works: speeds up your heart and generally fucks with your nervous system. Deadly nightshade contains tropane alkaloids atropine, hyoscine (scopolamine), and hyoscyamine which disrupt the nervous system’s ability to regulate activities such as heart rate, breathing and sweating. It can cause narcosis, paralysis and heart failure as a result. Yikes. But an antidote exists that can reverse these affects if administered in time.

Toxicity: the entire plant is toxic, with roots having the highest toxicity but berries posing the greatest threat to humans because of their appearance. 10-20 berries can kill an adult, and 2-4 can kill a child. Symptoms of mild poisoning include dilated pupils, sensitivity to light, loss of balance, confusion, hallucinations (wild) and convulsions. Doesn’t sound like a good time.

Do not eat the shiny attractive berries!!! (Cows and rabbits and other animals can eat it but humans, dogs and cats...NOT SO MUCH) You can also get toxins on your skin just by touching the plant but this will not kill you.

Totally fun and not morbid fact: during the Renaissance, belladonna was used by women in small quantities to dilate pupils and give a seductive appearance, and this is how it gets its name belladonna, or beautiful woman. Atropa comes from the Greek Fate Atropos who cuts the threads of mortal lives with her shears. Snip snip!

Hemlock

Where is it found? Conium maculatum grows naturally in Europe and North Africa, and has spread to North and South America, Australia and Western Asia.

How it works: stops your breathing. The flowers contain an alkaloid called coniine, which directly affects the nervous system and causes paralysis of respiratory muscles, leading to death from oxygen deprivation. Hemlock poisoning is treated by artificial ventilation for 48-72 hours until the effects wear off.

Toxicity: about 100 milligrams of coniine is fatal to an adult. That’s about 6-8 hemlock leaves, or a smaller dose of the seeds or root. Animals can also be poisoned and killed by hemlock, but luckily dangerous substances cannot be passed into the human food chain from milk or fowl. Similar to nightshade, you can get a non-lethal amount of the toxin on your skin simply from touching this plant.

Basically you’re only gonna get poisoned by this if someone puts it in your tea, because I assume you’re not gonna just go around just like...chomping on pretty flowers. Right? Right?? ok good.

Arsenic

Where is it found? arsenic is a metalloid that occurs often with sulfurs and metals. It can be present in volcanic ash and groundwater, and as a result can be found in low (acceptable) levels in plants and seafood. Good news: it is rare to find arsenic occurring at dangerous levels in nature.

How it works: in high levels, arsenic disrupts ATP production and causes organ failure due to necrotic cell death. This process can last between 2 hours to multiple days. It can also be fatal in lower doses administered over a period of time, and as such, was a popular murder weapon when it was readily available during the 1800s in England. Symptoms such as vomiting and diarrhea don’t immediately alert someone that there has been an attempted murder unless maybe you’re Sherlock Holmes.

Toxicity: google probably thinks I’m a murderer and won’t tell me just how much arsenic will kill a person. COME ON, google!!! it’s for SCIENCE!

Arsenic is no longer readily available for people to just get in large quantities, so that’s a RELIEF.

Cyanide

Where is it found? cyanide is a chemical compound produced by certain algae, bacteria and fungi. It is also found in plants such as peaches, apples, apricots and bitter almonds. A type of bamboo that grows in Madagascar is so rich in cyanide that it would kill humans, but not the golden bamboo lemur for whom this bamboo is a primary source of food!!! You go girl, eat that cyanide bamboo.

How it works: for everyone who’s not a golden bamboo lemur, cyanide disrupts ATP production, affects the central nervous system and heart, and causes histotoxic hypoxia: the inability of cells to take up oxygen from the bloodstream. Antidotes can work if administered in time for lower doses of cyanide.

Toxicity: 200 milligrams of solid cyanide or a cyanide solution, or exposure to airborne cyanide of 270 parts per million is sufficient to cause death within minutes. Um, YIKES. Really, cyanide was already scary enough as a solid before nature went and made it into a gas that kills upon inhalation. DEEPLY uncool.

Murder mystery writers: slip belladona or arsenic into your literary victim’s tea. Belladonna is sweet, arsenic is tasteless, but cyanide has an acrid and bitter taste.

Fun (well, not fun) fact: if you eat 200 apple seeds (about 40 apple cores) you will receive a fatal dose of cyanide. So like, don’t do that. An apple a day keeps the doctor away and is completely safe, but 40 apples apple cores a day WILL KILL YOU

Vampire Bat Saliva

Where is it found? Vampire bats are found in the Americas.

How it works: a toxic substance called Draculin (I’m serious) in the saliva of vampire bats acts as an anticoagulant by inhibiting an enzyme involved in the coagulation pathway.

Toxicity: vampire bats are indeed venomous and toxic, but they are not at all lethal. It just sorta sucks if you’re being bitten by a vampire bat, but you’ll live. Unless that bat has rabies. Vampire bat saliva also contains an analgesic, meaning the bites are almost completely painless. SO THAT’S SOMETHING

Cobra Venom

“hello do you have a moment to hear about cell death?”

Where is it found? Many species of cobra are found throughout Africa, Southwest and Southeast Asia.

How it works: most cobra venom includes neurotoxins that cause paralysis as well as cytotoxins that cause necrosis and blood coagulation. blood coagulation can happen in minutes.

Toxicity: many types of cobra venom are treatable, but may leave disfigurement from necrosis. If this isn’t scary enough for you, just know that spitting cobras can reach 2.7 m (8.9 ft) in length and like to aim for the eyes.

But you’d still rather be bitten by a cobra than THIS deadly mofo:

Venom of the Inland Taipan

Where is it found? the inland taipan is the most venomous snake in the world and lives, YOU GUESSED IT, in Australia, ie the place where everything is designed to kill you. Evolution decided it can reach 1.8 meters (5.9 feet) with a maximum length of 2.5 meters (8.2 feet), which I think everyone can agree is a dick move on evolution’s part. Take it back, TAKE IT BACK!!!!!

How it works: the venom contains neurotoxins, hemotoxins, and myotoxins AND an enzyme to increase absorption of the venom. Basically it causes paralysis, blood coagulation and muscle damage, because one of these things wasn’t enough apparently. Antivenoms against Australian venomous snakes exist but are least effective against the venom of the inland taipan.

Toxicity: the inland taipan’s venom has a murine LD50 value of 0.025m/kg. This means there is a 50% chance that .025 milligrams per kilogram of weight will cause death. It’s bite contains enough venom to kill at least 100 adult humans. But GOOD NEWS! the inland taipan lives in such remote places that it rarely comes in contact with people. Other slightly less venomous snakes are therefore responsible for more deaths. ....So that’s...still terrifying. just don’t go into the woods in Australia FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

What’s deadlier than the deadliest snake in the world, you ask?

Tetrodotoxin

Where is it found? tetrodotoxin is found in several animals such as pufferfish, moon snails and the small but deadly Australian blue ringed octopus (DAMMIT Australia)

How it works: blocks sodium channels. This prevents normal transmission of signals between the body and brain, causing loss of sensation, paralysis and inability to breathe. Fun!!! Don’t pick up the frickin evil little octopus

Toxicity: more powerful than cyanide, that’s for sure, about a thousand times more powerful in fact. the oral median lethal dose (LD50) for mice as 334 micrograms per kilogram. Fatal pufferfish poisoning result in death in about 17 minutes. The blue-ringed octopus, however, carries enough venom to kill 26 adult humans within just a few minutes. There is no anti-venom.

What’s worse than that, you ask? Ah, you shouldn't have asked.

Conotoxin

Where is it found? Cone snails are found in the Indo-Pacific, the Cape of South Africa, the Mediterranean, and even southern California. Smaller species are not that dangerous. Larger species, however...

How it works: paralysis within minutes. cone snails have multiple harpoons to administer venom to prey (or unsuspecting humans). the harpoons deliver a venom that has HUNDREDS of different types of toxins, each targeting different nerve channels or receptors. Some cone snail venom even includes pain-reducing toxins. These pain reducing toxins can be 100 to 1,000 times more powerful than morphine. How THOUGHTFUL.

Toxicity: vastly more potent than tetrodotoxin. the oral median lethal dose (LD50) for mice is is 10 to 100 micrograms/kilogram. So like, GOOD LUCK WITH THAT LOL

Ricin

Where is it found? Ricin is obtained from the beans of the castor oil plant.

How it works: inhibits protein production and results in organ failure, respiratory failure and circulatory shock.

Toxicity: The median lethal dose (LD50) of ricin is around 22 micrograms per kilogram of body weight. If that sounds bad just wait till you hear about poison dart frogs 😭

VX

Where is it found? Nowhere in nature. VX is synthetic. It is an oily amber colored liquid in its natural form, was first developed as a pesticide and later for chemical warfare. It is considered a weapon of mass destruction and is banned under the Chemical Weapons Convention of 1993.

How it works: causes stimulation and fatigue of muscarinic and nicotinic ACh receptors, resulting in violent contractions followed by paralysis and death by asphyxiation.

Toxicity: 7 micrograms/kilogram. this is one of the most toxic synthetic substances on earth. Humans have got nothing on mother nature though...

Batrachotoxin

(This guy is called phyllobates TERRIBILIS. but is his cute little face terrible? noooo.)

Where is it found? in certain types of beetles, birds and poison dart frogs found in Central and South America.

How it works: similar to conotoxin, batrachotoxin interrupts sodium channels. The resulting migration of Na+ ions causes heart failure and paralysis.

Toxicity: The LD50 is around 2 micrograms per kilogram, meaning that an amount the size of two grains of table salt will kill you, and that this is even worse than a cone snail, Ricin, or VX. Batrachotoxin is one of the deadliest alkaloids known. No antidote exists.

Fun frog fact: this was the poison commonly used by the Embera-Wounaan for poison darts, and that’s where poison dart frogs get their name! How...cute.

Botulinum, most toxic substance in the world

Where is it found? made by the bacteria Clostridium botulinum and related species.

How it works: causes Botulism, which if untreated can result in paralysis and respiratory failure by preventing the release of the neurotransmitter acetylcholine. Botulinum is used in very very very VEEEEEEERY small amounts in Botox, in case you ever needed reasons NOT to do Botox lol.

Toxicity: the lethal dose of 1.3–2.1 nanograms per kilogram in humans. of any toxin natural or synthetic, this is the deadliest known. However!! Actual good news this time: treatments involving antitoxin therapy and intubation are very successful and mortality from Botulism is extremely low. Yay! 

More good news: toxins have been instrumental in medicinal breakthroughs throughout history and continue to be vital to modern medicine. A drug for diabetes was recently synthesized from Gila monster venom: it increases the production of insulin when blood sugar levels are high. A painkiller has been developed for chronic pain patients that is derived from a component of the venom of our friend, you guessed it, the cone snail! These are just two examples of toxins being used in medicine, and a lot of research is still being done because face it: we still don’t know a lot about how our bodies work. Paralyzing agents are extremely important to our understanding of the body and the development of non-opiate non-addictive painkillers because of how they disrupt signals between nerves and the brain.

Long story short: don’t eat nightshade and stay OFF AUSTRALIAN BEACHES and you should be just fine. 

Oh and your tea is getting cold ;)

[gnnhildr]

waltz in unknown minor

ft. eula lawrence

fluff & comfort ; more or less you simply seeing more than a name and past (for there's more to the spindriff knight than anyone realizes) +reader w/ leg disability & requires assists 1.4k+ wc ; perhaps even the most graceful of dancers wish to be held.

you watch with yearning eyes as the dancer on stage takes a final bow, warranting roaring applause from the more-than-pleased audience. to say you felt more than pleased with your work tonight was an understatement.

despite the many times, you had done this before, you couldn't help the sigh that escaped your lips, the well-kept longing in your heart for the art of dance beginning to pull at the corner of your smile-occupied lips.

using our arms, you began to gently wheel yourself from behind the curtain, coming to a halt beside your lead dancer. taking your hand in hers, you did your best to lean in for a bow.

you could barely hear your own thoughts over the deafening cheers of the crowd, but upon the stage, under the blinding lights, this is what felt like home.

but it wasn't built to last.

it's much after the spectators had taken their leave, even the cast and staff having bid their goodbye's to you for the night, leaving you alone to do the last sweep of security through the theatre.

"i thought i'd find you here."

you pause in your movements, your line of sight naturally shifting from the light switch to the direction from which the voice came. searching the dark space, you feel yourself relax at the sight of a familiar woman.

"eula, darling, i didn't think you'd come here," you chuckle in relief, going back to turn the final lights off and leaving the both of you under the silky gaze of the moon. "jean said you were still out on an expedition."

she makes her way down the main aisle to where you're now situated at centerstage. you have to lean down a bit to meet her eye level, but you two manage to exchange your usual greeting of a small kiss. "well, i completed it early, only to come home to an empty house and my lover missing."

her arms are outreached and you accept the invitation, gripping her forearms lightly as she lifts you carefully from your chair to the ground level. a little wobbly from not having stood in a while, you manage your balance while she goes back to bring your wheelchair down.

when the two of you finally start to make your way to exit, you feel comfort settle on your shoulders, one you noticed was ever-present when a certain lawrence was around. when you look back to glance at her, you find a pair of yellow-violet eyes already fixated with yours.

"what?" your eyes are their own shade of curiosity, and there's nothing short of admiration now curling at the edge of your lips.

your blue-haired lover mirrors your own subtle expression, her complexion looking almost angelic in the light of the moon. "nothing, you're gorgeous."

the sun is shy when you awake the next morning, the smell of fresh bamboo shoots filling the air and enlightening your senses. just as you're about to move to get out of bed, you find eula walking into your shared bedroom dressed in a simple leotard and cape, much different than her normal on-duty uniform.

"good morning, darling, i've made breakfast. would you like to walk?" you can't help but notice the hopeful glint in her eyes, and you give a soft nod. coming to your side, she offers an arm courteously and you take it.

each step brings pricking sensations up your legs, but it's bearable nonetheless. the short walk to the dining area of the small cottage leaves you nearly drained by the team she sits you in a chair. "hmm," you sigh, "my favorite?"

dishing out two plates from the stove, eula sets one in front of you whilst taking her place at the table right across from her. "i was forced to make a stop in liyue harbor when a storm took a bit longer to pass. i figured it'd be rather resourceful of me not to waste any opportunity to gather some things."

"well thank you," you hum, beginning to eat your own dish, "it was quite thoughtful of you."

eula only chuckles, "dear, it's only the first part of my vengeance."

"eula, where are we going?!" you squeal in delight as you nearly lose balance, strong arms going to wrap around your waist and steadying you.

the arms shift to grip your hips gently, guiding you further down what seemed to be a wooden path. "patience is a virtue, darling."

the air is familiar, the scent of paper and birch filling your senses. eula brings you to a halt and removes your blindfold. upon opening your eyes, you're met with the sight of your own theatre stage, only it's been decorated to match the harbor of liyue.

xiao lanterns hang from the ceiling and smaller, delicate ones create a path to the center where an area has been surrounded by tens if not hundreds of more lanterns. you don't hear it at first, but there's a soft tune playing in the background, it's rhythm and song familiar.

"this is . . ." you're at a loss for words, unable to quite vocalize the swelling in your heart.

eula's breath seems to catch in her throat for a second. "do you like it?"

"like it? i absolutely adore it, when did you ever get the time to do this?" she walks you to the area in the middle, making extra sure you don't stumble at all (with her grace, it's a never-occurring event).

"a magician never reveals her secrets," eula replies simply, taking a step back from you to bow courteously, and that's all it takes for you to recognize the song in the background.

it was the tune of which you had first performed in monstadt, the night eula had been able to get into the theatre, and perhaps where you met the love of your life. you had been a new edition to the world of dance in teyvat, world-renowned for the few but show-stopping solo performances you choreographed and executed yourself.

it takes a moment to sink in, but for the first time, you find that you aren't saddened by the thought of your former glory. from the glowing lanterns to the intricately woven ensembles you wore (all gifts from your now-passed mother). "eula, this is . . ."

you can't stop the tears from forming, your burdened heart no longer feeling so heavy.

"f-forgive, i didn't think you'd cry-," warm hands find their way to your cheeks, swiftly going to catch your tears before they fall too far. "we can return home if you'd li-"

"ah, don't mind me, I'm elated, i assure you," you laugh lightly, lips curling into your signature coked grin. "could we, um, may i have this dance?"

she blinks once, as if clearing the confusion, before laughing lightly, a sigh of relief leaving her mouth. "but of course, milady."

and so you do, with your feet on hers as she smoothly guides the two of you around in the middle of the field of lanterns, never missing a beat in the liyue tune you knew so well.

she's beautiful, and you see it beneath every shade cast by the illuminating lights all around the stage. your arms are clasped gently around her neck, hers around your waist, and the two of you had come to the falling action of the song; the more mellow section of it.

the xiao lanterns around you appeared to hum softly, a strange comfort settling within you as you swayed slowly. "eula?"

"hmm, yes darling?" her gaze is observant, traversing over the planes of your face and watching for nothing in particular.

your own gaze was on the lanterns, taking in the different shapes and designs. "would you perhaps still cherish me if i was a creature of sorts?"

"well, that would depend on what type of creature," eula replied simply, earning a gasp from the other. following up with a smile, she offers a soft kiss in reassurance, "but nonetheless, i believe i could find it in myself to love you. was that the answer you were wishing for?"

"hmm, no, but it'll do," you say, your smile reaching your eyes when you look at her once more.

two figures moving together to the rhythm of the lullaby, never out of step nor sync, it was then that a familiar feeling had wrapped its grasp around your heart. because if there was one thing you knew, it was that in the dark of the there, on a stage of a thousand lights, eula made you feel weightless.

and as long you were in love, that was something which the world could never dream to rob you of.

LAST UPDATED: 09/09/21

© honne-min 2k21, all rights reserved \ no copying or modifying of any sort, reblogs and likes very much welcomed <3

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 16, part two

(Masterpost of All the Rewatches) (Previous Post) (Canary’s Pinboard of Stuff)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes

Just A Box of Rain

The brothers find Jiang Yanli and tell her what happened. Pro Tip: a good way to deliver bad news is like this. 1. say "I have bad news" so the person can be prepared for a shock 2. clearly state the bad news. 

Standing in front of the person with tears streaming down your face and looking away when they try to meet your eyes is not, actually, a super effective method for delivering bad news. 

This episode continues to be punctuated by closeups of characters' hands as they respond to events. 

Yanli clutches her broken lotus pendant, cutting her palm and bleeding as she weeps.

Not-at-all symbolic rain drenches the three of them while they cry, standing apart and not comforting each other.

Sometimes a hurt is so deep deep deep You think that you're gonna drown Sometimes all I can do is weep weep weep With all this rain falling down

(more after the cut)

They upgrade their boat with repaired seats and a real oar, and move along toward a hopefully-safer location. 

The scenery continues to be gorgeous, and it appears to be actually really raining on this river or lake. We see Wei Wuxian's hand on the boat's oar as he takes his siblings to what he hopes will be safety.

Maybe you're tired and broken Your tongue is twisted with words half spoken

OP is valiantly resisting dropping a chunk of "Don't Pay the Ferryman" lyrics in here, because projecting European symbolism onto Chinese media is not my bag. This scene does carry a lot of weight, though, showing Wei Wuxian’s sadness and isolation, his ever-growing distance from his siblings and reminding us of his servant status. While his siblings sit under shelter with tears falling down their faces, Wei Wuxian stands in the rain, laboring to protect them and not letting his own tears fall.

It's totally reasonable that Wei Wuxian is the one to man the oar, right? I'm sure Jiang Cheng is the more exhausted of the two of them even though Wei Wuxian started off his day yesterday getting whipped FIVE times by the Zidian and ended it by being choked for 45 seconds.  

Self-Isolation

They reach an inn, where Yanli has a fever, maybe from being left outside all night while her brothers failed to work out any of their interpersonal shit, followed by getting extremely rained on for hours and hours. 

Wei Wuxian carefully puts on a bright, optimistic face for her, practicing for his future fake happiness after the Burial Mounds.

Jiang Cheng sits and has a lot of feelings, totally not helping while Wei Wuxian tends to Yanli. This is not typical of him and just shows how deeply shocked he is by what's happened; usually he is extremely attentive to Yanli and careful with her health.

Wei Wuxian tries to get Jiang Cheng's attention, so that Jiang Cheng can take over caring for Yanli while Wei Wuxian gets medicine. Jiang Cheng is busy staring into the middle distance, and won't respond.

This is Wei Wuxian realizing that absolutely nobody is going to help him.  

Wei Wuxian goes out in his distinctive robes with no hood or anything, to buy some fever medicine, and is quickly surrounded by guards.  They hear "we caught him" and run off, leaving him be.  

What Wei Wuxian doesn't know, that we learn in Episode 50, is that Jiang Cheng and his death wish decided to take a stroll, and seeing the Wen soldiers approach Wei Wuxian finally snapped him out of his reverie.  So he let himself be caught in order to draw them away from Wei Wuxian. 

Let's talk about this choice. In terms of clan roles, Wei Wuxian is absolutely the expendable one. Jiang Cheng became the clan leader when his father died, and knew it from the moment he saw his father's body. 

So far he's 1. Tried to go back to fight and die, against his parents' express instructions 2. left his sister alone in an inn with a fever 3. given himself up to be killed in place of his chief disciple, when it's his disciples' job to die for him, if it comes to that. All but two of Clan Yao's disciples died to protect fucking Captain Blowhard, for goodness sake.  

All of these actions are emotionally super understandable; he's young, he's had a terrible shock, and he's an emotional guy who's never heard of Dialectical Behavior Therapy. And I'm not here to defend feudal power structures. But perhaps Jiang Cheng shouldn't ring the "YOU PROMISED" bell quite so loud in the future, considering his own relationship to his obligations. 

Wei Wuxian begs Yanli to stay put and stay safe while he goes to find Jiang Cheng, and he promises to take Jiang Cheng back from the Wens. Yanli clutches his hands and asks him to promise again that he will rescue their brother, and that they will all go to Meishan together. But for once Wei Wuxian is completely honest, and disentangles his hands and sets off without another word.  

More running ensues, this time in the rain. To quote Adam in Season 7 Episode 1 of Spooks, "all this traumatized running is starting to really annoy me." (Spooks is the shit. Don't watch it if you like characters to have a lifespan longer than a mayfly's)

Camera Operator: Finally, a little appreciation

Wei Wuxian arrives in Lotus Pier, and can we just take a second to appreciate the decor of this place? Look at that tile floor with the cobblestone border, and the bamboo wall panel behind him.

He grabs the first Wen he finds, who turns out to be a much-needed friend.

Rescue Me

The Untamed is the tale of a man’s devotion; devotion so strong it transcends clan allegiance and even death. And that man’s name is Wen Ning.

Initially Wei Wuxian chokes him, like bros do, until he recognizes him and lets him go...

...only to immediately grab him and demand to know if he had a part in the massacre. Wen Ning stays pretty calm, seeing the angry side of Wei Wuxian for the first time, and explains that he heard about what happened, and is there to help.

Wei Wuxian absorbs this and lets him go, giving us a closeup of their hands together, with Wen Ning not so much resisting Wei Wuxian's grip as giving a steadying grip of his own to his best friend.

Wen Ning, who Wei Wuxian saved from one water demon, has already saved Wei Wuxian from one horrifying animatronic dog, and does not actually owe him a life debt at this point. Wen Ning has defied his sister and his entire clan and flown to Lotus Pier with a team of minions, with the specific intent of fucking things up for Wen Chao to the best of his abilities, simply because "Wei Wuxian is a nice person." 

Wei Wuxian isn't feeling like a nice person just now, however, thinking that he can use Wen Ning as a hostage to...what, trade for his brother? Wen Chao would probably be happy to kill Wen Ning himself, but his dad needs Wen Ning as a way to control Wen Qing, so maybe that plan would work.

Then Wei Wuxian sees this small pouch hanging from Wen Ning's belt, and it stops him in his tracks.

For once we are not given a flashback to explain his thinking, so I’ll provide one

The talisman he gave Wen Ning to protect him, now protects him from Wei Wuxian himself. He lets Wen Ning's arm go, and tries to think of another plan. 

Wen Ning already has another plan, and has come to Lotus Pier prepared to enact it. 

Wei Wuxian can't believe he's found someone to help him. In a moment of wrenching vulnerability, he asks Wen Ning to save Jiang Cheng and to retrieve the bodies of Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan. Wen Ning immediately agrees. 

Wen Ning then embarks upon the least sneaky sabotage campaign of all time, chatting to the guards while messing with the wine, and generally acting like a person who is up to something. 

Nobody respects him enough to worry about it, though, and the party proceeds as planned.

The banquet is set up in the cleaned-up courtyard of Lotus Pier The Yunmeng Supervisory Office, and features dancing girls performing in the center of the beautiful carved paving, and corpses hanging in the doorway. 

I bet Jin Guangyao hires this same dance troupe for his future parties.

Wen Chao and Wang Lingjiao sit at the main table, snuggling and being gross, but mercifully not necking on-camera because this is a 100% no-necking show. The drinks are sent around and Wen Chao tells Wen Zhuliu to drink up. 

Wen Zhuliu is busy gazing wistfully at Yu Ziyuan's corpse.

Let's face it, Wen Zhuliu is the only dangerous person in this place at the moment, so what he does next is the make-or-break for Wen Ning’s plan. 

Wen Zhuliu smells his wine and immediately can tell something is wrong. He takes a long moment to consider the situation, eyes on Yu Ziyuan, and then downs it, letting his emotions--perhaps something in the neighborhood of remorse, perhaps simple disgust at his craven supervisor--get the better of him.  

In the morning he will be able to tell Wen Chao with 100% precision exactly what the drug is, probably from smelling it right here. This is the only miscalculation Wen Zhuliu makes in the whole show, and it eventually costs him his life.

Wen Zhuliu has no reason to think this decision will hurt him. It's definitely impossible for Jiang Cheng, whipped and crushed, to avenge himself and his parents. But Jiang Cheng, with Wei Wuxian’s help, is going to achieve the impossible. 

We end with Wei Wuxian hiding while he waits for Wen Ning, as strung out as we have seen him so far, although he's got worse mental states ahead of him on his journey.  He doesn't know yet if he was right to trust Wen Ning, and the episode ends with him, cold, wet, and miserable, waiting to find out. 

Next Episode: Still miserable, but with a cape! Soundtrack: 1. Patty Griffin, Rain  2. Grateful Dead, Box of Rain

[itsmoonpeaches]

The Ocean Meets the Sky

Chapter 7: Souls

Please note: Every prompt for this Kataang Week connects into an over-arching story.

Prompt: Soulmate AU

Story summary: After his battle with Fire Lord Ozai, something lingers within Aang's spirit. Katara is the one that pulls the seams back together. No matter what, Aang and Katara find each other.

Chapter summary: There were pieces of wobbling, rickety furniture. A stool with three legs and with uneven lengths, a crate being utilized as a table, a cracked Pai Sho board with missing playing tiles. There were inky shadows in the corners that filled the lines in between the timbers. Outside, it looked impossibly bright. It was oversaturated with odd tones of pigment and motes of speckled dust that lightened the room.

“That was a brave thing that girl did, you know,” said someone. Their voice broke the silence.

-

Or, Aang remembers a promise.

Written for @kataang-week

Read on ao3 or ffn.

---

Aang blinked and he was floating above a scene with a ruined palace courtyard. He saw his own body struggling to keep itself standing up as if in a war with itself, eyes flashing from violet to bleached white. Katara was grasping his body’s forearm, eyes closed, face eerily calm.

He blinked again, and he was nowhere near the same scene.

He rose in the middle of a dilapidated structure made of run-down planks that were half-eaten with rot and nailed together with rusty iron. Thick, twisting tree branches snaked through a rectangular open window. Another broke the ceiling and proceeded through the floor, holding up the poorly made building in the treetop it stood in.

There were pieces of wobbling, rickety furniture. A stool with three legs and with uneven lengths, a crate being utilized as a table, a cracked Pai Sho board with missing playing tiles. There were inky shadows in the corners that filled the lines in between the timbers. Outside, it looked impossibly bright. It was oversaturated with odd tones of pigment and motes of speckled dust that lightened the room.

“That was a brave thing that girl did, you know,” said someone. Their voice broke the silence.

Aang saw as upon the three-legged stool there materialized a man in unkempt, draping, orange clothing. He was young, maybe just a few years older than Zuko was. He was scrappy, youthful, with a demeanor that told of a boy trying at being older than he really was. He was cleanshaven with dark, black hair that stood up in a mess of spikes.

His eyes were a Fire Nation golden brown and had a piercing quality to them that Aang recognized, but he could not quite figure out from whom. It was determined like Zuko’s stare, kind like Iroh’s, but there was something ancient and knowing behind them that reminded him of Roku.

“It was brave,” the man continued, lips quirking at one end, “but it wasn’t ever going to work…trading places like that…not in the way she thought.”

Aang felt a pull, a call, from someplace inside himself. He stepped toward the man and left the center of the room. “Who are you? What are you talking about?” he asked. He stopped walking when he was only a few paces away. He was in the patch of light that spilled from the window.

The man chuckled. He leaned forward and placed his chin on his palm, his elbow resting on the crate. “Wan,” he introduced himself, “but you already knew that didn’t you?”

Aang gasped as soon as he heard the name. There was a click, a resounding bell that tolled and that he thought he could feel resonating within him. An invisible force sliding into place.

For a moment he saw himself as an old man in an era long gone, surrounding by snapped arrows and shattered weapons on a battlefield. He apologized to Raava.

“It’s hard, you know,” started Wan again and bringing Aang back to reality, “to live nearly ten thousand years and to live so many lifetimes.” His gaze lingered on Aang’s. “But what doesn’t change is that every life is new, and every life is a continuation of the last one.”

“You’re…the First,” Aang whispered, almost in quiet reverence.

Wan stood up from his stool, and it faltered for a few seconds before it stabilized. He met Aang where he was, and they were bathed together in the same beam of sunlight.

“You know what else doesn’t change?” Wan spoke again. He smiled albeit with a bittersweetness. “The fact that in every new life we have, we remember what it’s like to be human.”

He pointed to Aang’s chest, and it glowed softly with the same light of Raava’s intricate patterns, reacting to his presence.

“In every life we have Raava, the spirit of light and peace with us. But there is a balance that is maintained and still, Vaatu, the spirit of darkness and chaos must exist,” said Wan. “They have an eternal battle, you see, like that of our own world’s. No matter if they are there or not, the essence of them always remains…because the world is like that. Because humans are like that.”

It sounded like an archaic parable told to children as a bedtime story. But Aang knew, as he did the other lives he has had, what was true.

He did not have to be reminded that there was great good and great evil that existed in the world. He lived through a war that proved that. He had longed, beyond all else, for Gyatso to be alive, for his people to come back.

“What Master Katara did was pure and courageous, and so, so human,” Wan began again. His expression was unreadable. “That is exactly why it didn’t work.”

Aang clenched a fist at his side. “What happened to her?” he pressed. “What happened to Katara?”

Wan bowed his head a little, and there was something kind in the way he looked at him. “She returned to her body, as you soon will,” he remarked. “She healed your soul, as only a person bonded with the soul of an Avatar could. She helped you to remember that there is love in this world, love that is reborn.” He paused, peering at him in an inquisitive fashion. “Vaatu made a gamble that he was sure to lose, even if he didn’t know it. For his error, he returned to his jail. He gambled on the fact that he could bond with any human, and for some that might be true. But he forgot that there is something even stronger than peace and chaos, even if they rule our lives, even if they are connected.

“Love is what makes us human, Aang. It’s what has driven our incarnations to do what they have done, what we have done. It is the ultimate balance…not good, not evil. It is the reason why a soul is born alongside every reincarnation, a soul to help the world remember that the Avatar is human…because they have forgotten before.”

Wan’s eyes were bright with white light, and all Aang could see was himself sitting cross-legged in a locked room alone.

The wooden floorboards he sat upon did not even creak as he stood on bare feet. The resounding silence followed him, an infinite specter that clung to his shoulders like a heavy cape. He paced, sliding open the window to witness the morning as it blanketed the bamboo forest outside. He closed it, and then the shadows in the room grew darker. He opened the window again and the moon was full and the stars a hoary bright.

He stared at a copse of trees just below him, for he was so far up. He waited and waited, but no one came.

It was then that he turned to the empty teapot that rested on the chest in the corner of his prison. He called for a servant to fill it with water. His hand went to his sleeve where he had hidden the packet of powder that he had swiped from the apothecary while on a visit to the islands where the people of the element of fire resided.

All he wanted was to be free.

The light subsided, and Aang was looking at Wan again. They were both misty-eyed.

“A spirit is born out of necessity, out of wishes. A soul is often born like that too. And if the wish is strong enough, then they will be reborn again and again,” Wan explained. His brow was crinkled, and he could not look at Aang directly for a time. “The people forgot that we are like them...until the fourth Avatar, Kun, and he paid the price for it. It was the powerful, resilient wish of the person that loved him most to give him the humanity he deserved.”

Aang let out a breath he did not know he was holding. Rivulets of tears ran down his cheeks.

“I’ve made many mistakes, but I think this is the biggest one,” Wan sighed. He did not look away from Aang again. “I told the people that I was part of legend when I had forgotten to remind them who I really was, and that thought continued from one life to the next.”

His firm hand grasped Aang’s shoulder as he spoke. “But love has foresight,” he said quietly. “You will meet across times, across lifetimes, in different places, in different eras. You could be friends, you could be family, you could be lovers, but you will meet…and when you do, your heart will remember that promise.”

When Wan released him, the branches and the timber fell away. He was rushed through a myriad of moving pictures, pushed back through space.

He only halted for a moment in a field of white. A palm opened before him, and he could not stop the smile that settled upon his face.

“I found you,” Katara said, and he was whole.

[skellebonez]

Smoke, Flasks, and Unfinished Tasks: Chapter 10

AO3 Link!

Chapter 1 Link!, Chapter 2 Link!, Chapter 3 Link!, Chapter 4 Link!, Chapter 5 Link! Chapter 6 Link! Chapter 7 Link! Chapter 8 Link! Chapter 9 Link!

Summary: While the trio and Jin are in the Calabash, the family they left behind try to figure out what to do without falling apart at the seams.

Warnings: Mentions of mouth related injury, self depreciation and negative self talk.

Author’s note: Happy Season 2 premier in a few hours from posting this everyone!

Chapter 10: In The Meantime, Stay With Me

When Iron Fan had said she could get them everything they needed, Pigsy was not expecting that to be a nearly literal statement.

It had taken no time at all for the bull clones to set up a a veritable base of operations for them to use. Long rectangular tables set up and pushed together to make one large enough for DBK to maneuver things on a map, various types of technology that clearly had red Son's handiwork on them around the edges of the map. They used pieces from a mahjong set to mark spots on the map, barring the bonus tiles of seasons and flowers which would be used should they run out of others (and if they did they would allow themselves the worry they were pushing deep down for the moment) and the three dragon tiles. Green for Mei, Red for Red Son, and while Pigsy felt the White tile wasn't the most fitting for MK it was easiest for cohesion.

They had everything laid out in front of them, each location they checked marked off with a numbered suit tile (all bamboo used up first, then moving on to dots, and once those were finished they would use the characters). The 4 winds marked the four major locations they felt needed to be tracked, barring Flower Fruit Mountain as they eliminated the possibility of anyone reaching there outside of PIF, Wukong, and MK themselves: The Bull Family homestead, a temporary place reminiscent of Fiery Cloud Cave just outside the city where they were currently pooling all their resources. Pigsy's Noodles, the obvious place for the trio to go if they managed to escape themselves. The tea shop that the Spider Queen made them aware of.

And one final tile left sitting to the side, ready to be placed should the tea shop lead them somewhere else. They had doubts that the trio would still be there, though did not discount the possibility, since it would be risky to not take them to a secondary location if they knew the Spider Queen had prying eyes. And most everyone who could have pulled this off must have known that to an extent.

Pigsy wished that they could have used some of Red's tech instead of a too large map and mahjong tiles... but most of his tech was locked up tight and none of them really knew how the tech he left with his parents worked anyway. Not even they had a good handle on it, he was the one who typically ran everything when they were all together and he had programmed the operating system to his own needs. While they would have been able to figure that out in time, and Sandy was doing his very best to work out how to unlock some of the devices and would eagerly transfer everything they had on the tables into whatever programs they could access, they knew time was not in their side.

As DBK and PIF and Wukong mulled over who to send to the tea shop and where else they could look if they weren't there, Tang was nose deep in his own phone. Signal was shocking good here, all things considered, and once everything had been established he had started to scroll through social media once again just like he had when the search began. One site, another site, refresh, scroll back up, another site, back to the first, refresh refresh, scroll again.

He hadn't stopped for almost half an hour... and nothing had been found, Pigsy could tell by the shake in his hands and shoulders and the frown on his face.

"Hey," he said softly, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Tang jumped, too immersed in his search and easily startled before he realized who was talking to him. "Come on, I... I don't think we're gonna find anything like that."

"I have to do something, Pigsy," Tang said firmly, refreshing the page he was on once again and grimacing.

There was an edit of the trio someone had posted, a news photo, filtered in bright colors and emoji hearts. "Our Heroes!" laid out on top. Tang almost threw the phone down on the table, just barely managing to slam it down instead and drawing the shocked attention of everyone else as he buried his face in his hands and took a deep calming breath.

Pigsy waved them all off with a frown, and only turned back to Tang when they turned away from them both,

"Tang, this is just makin you upset. You-"

"Have to do something," Tang repeated, shaking his head and looking back up at Pigsy. He looked so tired. They all were, he supposed. "I'm just me. I can and I will help look for them and fight, and you will not be able to stop me, but I can't do... anything else here. I'm not a strategist, I'm not that good with tech, you don't need grunt work done with the Bull Clones around... the best I can do it recite stories about the Monkey King to help us figure out who this could be. And the person who did this might not even be an old enemy!"

"I ain't doin much either," Pigsy rebutted, gesturing over to the unlikely trio of ancient beings across from them. "They may be deferring to me for the final say, but I'm relying on what they tell me to make that choice." He moved, sitting beside the scholar without taking his hand off his shoulder. "So lets distract each other. Work on something else. Maybe whoever did this isn't an old enemy of ours, but maybe they are. Think of anyone who might still be around to hold a grudge and tell me their story."

Tang sat still for a few minutes instead of answering, just leaning into Pigsy and looking down at his shaking hands before they saw the shadow of a Bull Clone fall over the table. Pigsy recognized this one, the only one dressed in attire. A cape to be specific. PIF had introduced him as General Ironclad 2.0, one of the many recommissioned Bull Clones that had to be rebuilt after... The White Bone Spirit.

He placed a tray in front of the duo, two hot cups of tea and two sticks of Tanghulu candied fruit between them (and that was a strange sight, here in this cave, and Pigsy wondered if it was DBK or PIF who had a taste for the treat enough to just have it available like this). Like all the Bull Clones he said nothing, at least nothing that Pigsy or Tang could understand, and bowed before taking his leave.

Pigsy chanced a glance over to the working trio, catching DBK watching them from the corner of his eye. Wukong had a sad smile on his face as he talked while Iron Fan looked... well, he couldn't really tell. She didn't seem annoyed or frustrated, more confused than anything else as she glances up at her husband. DBK gave them a small nod before turning his gaze back to the map.

It was bizarre to him to see them like this. Sun Wukong without his overly enthusiastic smile and laugh or battle roar grimace. Princess Iron Fan without a scowl or a evil smirk of victory and cruelty. The Demon Bull King without his frustration and anger. Now working together for the first time in centuries, possibly ever to his knowledge as he had no idea whether or not Wukong and PIF ever actually did anything together with DBK before he was trapped under that mountain. He... he should have asked the person he once considered to be as close as a brother more about his life before. During the journey they took, before he vanished never to be seen or heard from for 500 years before showing up again just to give the kid he considered his son his mantle.

Maybe... maybe he wouldn't have left if he had.

There was no point dwelling on the past like this, however. Not now. Instead he picked up one of the tea cups and held it in his hands, the warmth not needed in the heat of the cave but still welcome. As welcome as the heat against his shoulder as Tang stayed leaning against him. In time he felt the man move in the same way, holding his own tea cup before taking a sip and sighing.

"You know..." He started slowly, reaching out to take a piece of candied fruit off the stick. The crunch was loud in the quiet of the cave and he spoke with his mouth full. "I have been thinking... Jin and Yin..." He swallowed, frowning. "They shouldn't really be here based on the stories I have learned. The Spider Queen too, I thought for the longest time she died with her sisters, until a few years before meeting her anyway And MK told us about... Macaque." Pigsy frowned deeper at the name, remembering those few days when the Monkie Kid had been run ragged and seemed easy to anger and more eager to please than usual making the tea taste bitter in his mouth. "And he shouldn't be around either. I have my theories, immortality and desires to return to what they were doing before their defeats and all that. But I was wondering..."

Tang paused, sipping his tea before choosing his words carefully.

"Maybe even more of your enemies.... aren't as dead as everyone thought they were?"

~

Yin scowled. That was the most he could do in his current state. Scowl at the door he was trapped behind.

If he tried he could have probably broken it down. But Princess Jade Face hadn't left. She could have, but he doubted it. She could have done a lot, but every time he tried to guess she hadn't.

He was so stupid...

He hadn't tried to talk his brother out of this arrangement, he hadn't stopped him from making her mad enough to use the smoke, he hadn't thought to check to make sure she was gone when they tried their escape plan.

He could have done so much but hadn't.

He wished his brother was there. It didn't feel right to be alone. They'd been together for as long as he could remember, they were twins after all. Sure, they had spent time apart, but never like this. Not like this. And Yin was cold and alone and Jin wasn't anywhere he could reach.

Yin was alone and he hurt everywhere.

It must have been the smoke itself. It wasn't like a truly hurtful pain, he was able to go about whatever he needed to do. It was a dull pain, like his entire body had been grabbed to harshly and squeezed all over. But he could do what he needed to, like eat. Princess Jade Face had even been "nice" enough to even give him food and water. Good food, surprisingly, meat buns that filled him up nice and good and made his stomach stop aching like it was going to devour him from the inside out.

That made him feel guilty. Jin hadn't eaten as long as he had. He hoped that she hadn't deactivated the part of the Calabash that would trick the person in it into thinking they weren't hungry... or maybe he should hope she had. He didn't like the idea of his brother slowly starving to death while he was filled up with good treats. If he hadn't remembered his brother yelling at him not to let good food go to waste all that time ago, before they managed to open their business and find something they were actually good at, the nausea he felt at that would have made his throat burn.

He wondered if she only fed him to keep him quiet.

It was pointless to think about that right now, though. It was pointless to worry about his brother.

He had to think of a plan. One that had more than two steps. One that actually worked for once in his damned life, one that would actually help them and get them somewhere than hurt and cold and alone and sad and in pain. Unlike all their other plans. Like with Sun Wukong. And MK in the Calabash. The race, though that one was fun.

The only other plan that had ever worked out for them was their job selling tech to other demons, but look where that got them now.

Yin winched as he grit his teeth and pain shot through his upper jaw, reaching up to the spot where one of them was now missing. Jade Face had come in to check on him and found him holding it. He had apparently hit himself hard enough on the way down to knock it out the last time she administered the smoke to his face.

It had already been chipped, weakened from another scrap the twins had gotten into with another demon. Yin wondered if his reflection would make him look like the younger twin he was now, with the gap in his smile.

Yin shook his head, curling in on himself and scowling at the door again.

He was so stupid...

But he would think of a way to get his brother back.

[cafeinthemoon]

The Leaves of Her Garden - Chapter VIII

Title: The Leaves of Her Garden

Genre: Fanfiction

Pairing: Madara Uchiha x reader

Rating: Mature

Word count: 2650

Chapter (s): 8/?

Warning(s): none just Madara being scary an such

Read the previous chapters here: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Interlude, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Symbols: 🌙 | ➕ | ▶▶

A Treaty With an Unreliable Clan

You opened your eyes in a startle, yet you found nothing around you but the darkness. You moved on the mattress, to try and spot something among the shadows as well as to make sure you were not late. Madara told you to be prepared, for you would leave before the sunrise. You woke up at least two times before that one, but it was not the time to stand up yet; now you weren’t sure.

You fought against the burning sensation in your eyes caused by the remaining sleep and sat on the futon. You looked around for the second time and sensed some grayish light rising outside the porch’s door, being filtered by its translucent material and filling the room with what seemed to be a mist curtain . Should you leave the bed now? Well, you found it better to do so. You moved the sheets away and, after some stretching, you stood up; you grabbed the clothes you kept separated the night before and went to the bathroom to take care of yourself.

When you came back, the room was as quiet and as dark as when you left. Your feet crossed the distance between the bathroom’s door and the bed without a noise; you were going to fold the sheets and wait for Madara there.

However, you didn’t go too far.

One more step toward the futon and you sensed something like a presence behind you. You turned to look and your heart almost jumped out from your mouth when you found a shadow with glimmering eyes staring at you. Stepping behind, you were going to scream and stumble in the mattress, but none of this happened: with one hand the shadow grabbed you before the fall, while the other hand covered your mouth, only giving you room to breathe.

When it was clear that you were not going to make a fuzz, he relaxed the grip around you and uncovered your mouth. You sighed.

- You scared me… Madara-sama.

He couldn’t contain a smile and moved his hands away from you.

- As always – he then walked toward the porch’s door, glancing over his shoulder – I hope you are ready by now. Shall we?

You hesitated. He turned to you.

- What is it?

- I myself am ready – you explained, turning to the futon – But I’d like to make my bed before leaving. It is a habit I’d like to maintain.

Madara looked at your bed and back to you before nodding as a sign of approval.

- Good. Make your bed, then.

You nodded and started to fold the sheets. You softened your pillow and put the sheets under it, just like your mother taught you when you were little, then passed your hands through the mattress to clean it before covering with its cape. As you worked, you felt his eyes at your back, catching all the details despite the penumbra in which the room was drowned in; each movement of yours were observed and examined to the point that a task as ordinary as making your bed became some sort of resistence test. You started to think that you should have already be used to it, for you have been watched since your arrival, but there was a possibility that you would never managed to see it as something normal. You never liked being watched.

When everything was finished, you stood up and turned to him. He opened the porch’s door and you grabbed the sandals you left at the porch’s entry, following him to the gray morning outside.

***

That time you had to walk to reach the place where you were going to train. Not that it was bad, though: the spring air was delightful under the first light of the day, and a breeze was blowing through the trees and over the grass; the birds just started their singing, and nothing beyond their voices was heard. Looking at your surroundings in such circumstances, you almost felt in peace.

The place of training was the same as yesterday, quiet and wide; however, you felt a cold you didn’t noticed the first time you’ve been there. It would not make any difference, though: it was going to be hot later and you were going to sweat, maybe more than the other day.

You didn’t immediately start the training. Madara led you under the low branches of a tree and showed you a towel covering a part of the ground. Upon it there was something wrapped with a kitchen cloth, which you understood to be a bowl and a cup of bamboo. A recently prepared breakfast. Was it made by him or by one of the servants? You didn’t have the courage to ask.

He knelt on the edge of the towel and told you to take a place on the opposite side. When you did it, he indicated the pack .

- Eat. You will not go too far without being properly fed.

You unwrapped the cloth and put it aside. You then held the bowl with one hand and took the pair of hashi with the other. Before putting them to stir the content, you looked at him.

- Thank you, Madara-sama.

He nodded, and you started to eat. At first, it was not that easy: the content of the bowl and the cup smelled good, but you weren’t hungry. It didn’t go unnoticed by him.

- I see that you are not used to eat by this time of the day. But think of the benefits and make some effort. You need to preserve your good aspect for the ceremony.

You obeyed. It took more time than usual, but you finally emptied the bowl. You suspected that Madara would not let you stand up before finishing your breakfast, but fortunately for you nor the bowl nor the cup were that full.

After breakfast, you two didn’t stand up immediately. It seemed that Madara was in no hurry. Soon, you saw that this was not the case: it happened that your training was not only physical, and there were some things he needed to explain to you.

- As you can imagine, y/n, I had a reason for choosing this hour of the day to bring you here – he started as soon as he had your full attention – There are some things you need to know, not only about the ceremony, but about the treaty between the Uchiha and the other clan, the Todoroki.

Todoroki? You tried to think if you’ve heard about them before. Apparently, no; if it was because they were a minor clan or their name was too common, you weren’t sure.

Madara started to tell you how Izuna left the house still by the night when he brought you to his brother. He was sent on a mission all alone to investigate some facts about the clan that remained obscure even after the two families have determined each one’s part in the treaty; he was expected to return by the end of that day, so that he could be at the wedding. Being the groom’s brother, his absence during the ceremony would look suspicious.

- I do not have enough time to tell you the whole story, so I will just say that we the Uchiha have some story with this clan – he was saying – We and the Todoroki were never exactly friends of each other until some time ago. As I explained to you before, they were never known for producing the best warriors, choosing to focus on erudition, politics and diplomacy instead. This has brought problems as much as advantages for them all over the years. Now, because of the frailty caused by the lack of a proper shinobi army, they were facing difficulties regarding security and were forced to seek for support alongside a stronger clan. Turned out that they came to us. At first I was not willing to make them our allies, for I do not appreciate weakness and for my knowledge about their antipathy for my clan , but even they have their strong traits, so I decided to accept their offer. However, we could not be so ingenuous to think that we did not have to be careful.

A strange glimmering appeared in his eyes after those words, but within a second it was gone. He just continued to speak as if nothing happened.

- This particular clan might not be famous by the power of their shinobi, but their connections and influence over different noble families have been used for any kind of purposes during their story. In other words, they were not to be trusted without question, and held too power in their hands for one to take them lightly. And knowing that they were not allies of the Uchiha since the start, I would not say yes to anything that came from them without gathering some information. I delegated this work to Izuna and other men of my trust. They were in the middle of a complex mission of this nature when the girl who was sent by them to be my wife suddenly disappeared.

F or a moment, Madara didn’t say a word, and the silence around his spot was heavy. You felt like the birds stopped singing at that revelation, and even the breeze was no longer blowing.

- This girl that you are to replace was the Todoroki leader’s daughter – he continued – I believe Izuna never mentioned it to you, but her name was Sachiko. I have met her for the first time during a visit at the family’s property in (…). Judging by what I know from both of you, I can say you have some resemblances in your manners and tone besides the physical appearance, but nothing more than that. She had a talent to handle social situations by herself and was clearly raised by her family to follow the traditional norms. She was ready to perform her role even after marriage , when we would spend time by ourselves and thus have nothing to hide from each other. On the other hand, you, y/n, are more… how can I put it in words?… Well, I hope you do not mind if I use the term wild . You are more wild in a sense that you have nothing but what truly belongs to you. Not the nobleness, nor the rules or the interests o others to be carried on your shoulders. You are gentle, have good manners and has chose honesty as your motivation. This sort of purity is hard to find these days. Allow me to say that I appreciate that. It is something we can use in our favor during the ceremony, but I see that keeping in a role for a long time would wear you out, and then our plans would end up being useless.

You were still getting used to the way Madara stated his thoughts and views, and you could even say you appreciated his peculiar use of words, but somehow you sensed that there would always be something between a sentence and other that would caught you off guard, just like that time: wild would be the last word you’d use to describe yourself, but he managed to find a meaning for it that would fit you and that could only be found in something said by himself.

Another thing that still surprised you was the easiness with which he could change the subjective tone of his conversation to something simple and practical, as he did right after those comments:

- According to what I’ve found out, Sachiko’s disappearance happened during her travel from her own house in order to arrive here. She was meant to spend a few days in my house in preparation for our wedding, while I was going to send some of my shinobi to improve her safety on the road as a part of our families’ treaty. Her family was going to travel right after her. However, she disappeared before my men could reach her group. Of course my first suspicion fell on her clan: there was a possibility that they were planning some betrayal and that the girl’s case was just a distraction from their true intentions. But I had no proof at the time, so I’ve sent some of my men to work beside them in the search. At the same time, Izuna, who just came back from his previous mission, was chosen to investigate the events in secret. And what he found out confirmed some of my suspicions.

So Madara knew more about the girl’s case than you imagined. Of course, he would take some action by himself, being the precautious man he was, but now you found yourself wanting to hear everything he had to tell.

- According to my brother’s research , the girl disappeared in the middle of the night, and things were arranged in a way that it would look like she left by her own choice and didn’t want to be followed. I myself do not understand how something like this could be possible, since she was not a shinobi and thus she could be easily tracked by some of our people. Also, the people who were traveling with her – her servants and some ninjas responsible for her safety – just vanished. If dead or abducted, we could not find out. Izuna and I talked for hours at closed doors, and our conclusion was that if her clan was planning to betray us, they might have tried to forge an excuse to dishonor the treaty .

After saying that, he fell silent for a second, then a strange, low sound came up his throat and caught you off guard. You took a moment to identify it as a laugh, but once you did, you felt some discomfort with the hilarity and the despise in it. You waited for him to explain what was so funny.

- I still find it hard to believe that the Todoroki would be so plain in their action s, that there was not a single person among them who suggested that making the girl disappear in a sudden and unexplained manner would only expose them as the unreliable scum they are? – after staring at you for a second, he raised his eyebrow – I see. Hearing me speak in such terms about my betrothed’s clan is unsettling for you. I understand. But I believe you have heard enough to agree with my statement, or at least with part of it . Their actions just served to ruin their own reputation before the Uchiha and to alert us. And now that we have you, y/n, we have little to worry about.

You didn’t understand why, but something in the way Madara smiled at you made you froze.

- Once they lay their eyes on you, we the Uchiha will know exactly if they were treacherous and how much. Whatever the case, they will have to keep their mouths shut and to cooperate.

Soon he abandoned his relaxed position at the grass ground and stood on his feet. He looked down at you and you saw that the smile was still there. You understood it as a sign for you to stand up too. You started to do it, but apparently you weren’t fast enough, for you sensed a shadow stopping beside you, getting you on your feet; when you looked up, you found Madara close to you, his arm around your waist. You took a deep breath and told yourself that it was better if you get used to not be able to follow his moves with your eyes.

- So… our only preoccupation for now is to finish our training – he approached his lips to your ear – And to make sure you will be ready.

[miss-choco-chips]

Soul Shards part 3

Good news, this isn’t as angsty as I thought I’d make it!! Granted, we still have one more part to go through, but I maneged to write this one without making anyone cry. I want a cookie!

This feels kinda like a filler thing? Next part will be heavier on the DamiTim as Damian grows older and closer to his objective, but for now, enjoy the slooooow burn and developing.

There’s little to no edition here, so... be warned.

~.~.~.~

-Well, this is awkward -spoke Timothy after a full minute went by without anyone speaking. Father’s face was unreadable, as it tended to be whenever a matter involved his heart, but Grayson looked like someone that knows they are having some kind of hallucination but desires desperately it were true.

-Timmy -called Grayson, heart at his sleeve. The exhaustion that had been building on the slope of his shoulders seemed to vanish at the sight of his long lost brother, a relieved sigh escaping his dry lips as he fully turned to face the monitor. Damian couldn’t relate; this was far from relaxing to his poor, excited heart. The tiny soul seemed to say ‘same’.

~.~.~.~

~.~.~.~

14  - 19

The first time Damian lays eyes on Timothy, not a recording or photographs but his actual flesh being, he's in such a rush his brain needs a couple seconds to understand.

What in Hells is he doing at Grandfather's main Australian base?

Damian's feet skip a little when he abruptly stops his dash across the halls, standing open mouthed at the arch leading to the training grounds. There, an oblivious Drake was slowly but steadily working his way across the obstacle course the Australian branch used to hone their skills.

He couldn't quite believe what he was seeing, until the souls at his hip pouch made their feelings on the matter known. His own was scalding hot from all the yearning Damian had been feeling, emotions coming forth at the sight of the one he wished for.

Drake's soul was, as usual, the complicated one. A mixture of want, anger, sadness, fear, adrenaline… Abruptly, a thought crossed his mind, an instant knowledge that left him weak at the knees: The little blue orb wanted to be back with it's rightful owner, wanted to be with Timothy again.

Damian could relate, honestly.

Unaware of the eyes at his back (or perhaps too used to it to notice, if Drake visiting grandfather was a common occurrence), the young man continued his training, strict and unwavering but with a relaxed sort of air around him, like he was in no rush to finish it and keep going to the next move. It was at odds with what Damian had learned from watching years worth of footage of the man, or what Drake's soul itself had taught him by sharing it's emotions on an almost constant basis: he was a creature who thrived on always having a plan following the one currently being executed, always a next step, one more to do list. This unhurried, calm, well rested man, muscles loose on the familiar movements of the training course and intelligent eyes lazily jumping from one point to the other, wasn't quite what Damian expected. 

Though, to be fair, Damian only knew about a Timothy with soul. There was nothing, no information, nowhere to learn from about this soulless version of him.

A figure slowly approaching from the corner of his eye kicked Damian's instincts in motion, jumping back from the open arch to a place where Drake wouldn't spot him if he happened to turn around. Tense, he straightened, facing this newcomer head on.

Being find out by his grandfather wasn't surprising, but Damian internally flinched all the same. Without his com, tracker offline for the time being and cellphone left behind at the Manor, there was no way for him to call in reinforcements or inform about his findings. He wouldn't, of course, this was a secret, self appointed mission, and would father find out he'd be in so much trouble, but since Drake's presence and possible recuperation was worth the scolding, he couldn't help but curse himself.

-Grandson -greeted Ra's, calm as always, a knowing light in his eyes. His hands were clasped behind his back, and although he was wearing comfortable clothes (white shirt, loose training pants, his usual footwear and favorite sword at the belt, no signs of the cape, and soul pouch hanging from his neck by a thick golden chain), Damian wasn't fooled by this facade of calmness. The Demon's head was no foe to be taken lightly, and Damian was underprepared to face him head on, most of his weapons sacrificed for the stealth this mission required, and no allies at his back-, come, walk with me. Let's leave our beloved Detective to his activities, shall we? It's rude to stare, after all, or so I was told.

There was a lot to unpack there, but Damian simply didn't have the time to dwell on it. He entertained the brief idea calling out to Drake, of asking for help, and though the idea of fighting side by side sent a wave of elation through him, he refrained. The little icy blue orb by his hip gave a warning poke, and Damian heed to it's advice: even years before, after all that had came to happen between them thanks to Damian's misplaced jealousy and pride, he wasn't sure the other young would run to his aid, and that was while he still had his soul to guide his heart. 

Stiffly, Damian followed his grandfather down the hall, until they reached some sort of tea room, it's aesthetic more at place at a Japanese mansion, with it's low table and cushions to kneel on, bamboo decorations and Sakura tree painting taking the entirety of one wall. To the untrained eye, it seemed they were alone, but Damian was raised among shadows and was quick to recognize when one entered or left his field vision.

-You see, grandson -started nonchalantly the Demon's head, taking the steaming tea cup from a servant after comfortably sitting on the golden lined pillow-, your timing is either a marvel or a curse. You seemed to have come here in search of something, and found an entirely different treasure.

Of course he knew. Under the protection of the table, Damian clenched his fists. Drake's soul gave a comforting wave, telling him to keep his calm. Damian's own orb answered it's thanks with a warm stroke. The exchange, that used to leave him dizzy with how confusing it was to feel two souls interacting, was now a welcome distraction from his nervousness. It was how he imagined having Timothy by his side, fully soul-ed again would feel like. 

How holding his hand would feel like.

-What is Drake doing here? -careful, don't demand an answer, but don't let him lead the conversation either, was what he imagined his predecessor would tell him, as if anyone else would have it that easy to interact with Ra's- Mother told me the League had no leads on his location.

-Your Mother certainly has a good web of spies and informants, but not even she has access to everything that is my domain. The League follows me, not her. Their loyalty to her and, consequently, you, stops long before it breaches the one they have to me, and thus my most treasured secrets are kept safe by my people. Tea?

Don't, Drake's soul says.

I don't have much of a choice, his own answers.

Don't, it repeats, and Damian is weak.

-I'm not staying long, but thank you. 

He waits until his grandfather waves away the servants and has drank twice from his cup before speaking again.

-You never said what is Drake's purpose in being here -he's careful on his reminder. The blue soul seems to approve.

His grandfather looks down at the table, like he could see his pouch through it, and his smile is amused.

-It's amazing, isn't it -he says instead, and he looks so fond, he can't help but shiver- though I never held it, it must be a thing of utter power, feelings so strong even one as willful as the young Detective had no choice but to leave it behind. And it holds all his secrets, his impulses, his instincts. How marvelous.

Damian tenses, readying himself. He'd die fighting before allowing his grandfather to touch Drake's soul. He had left it with him, and even if his intention wasn't for it to be safe or cherished, it was exactly what Damian had been doing, what he intends to keep doing until his last breath, or until Drake asks for it back.

It must show on his face, because his grandfather merely waves a hand.

-Don't look so stern, grandson. Even if I wrenched it out of your cold, dead hands, it'd do me no good. For a soul to give off the feelings of it's owner, it must be freely given. A stolen soul is no more useful than a piece of jewellery -the venom green of Ra's eyes had a wistful light-, though this one is of a particularly beautiful kind, isn't it?

Silence overtook them for a few seconds. Despite the reassurance, Damian didn't relax his stance.

-Will you tell me about Drake's intentions, grandfather? -he forced his voice to remain calm, steady, as if it didn't matter either way.

-I don't think the young Detective himself knows that, Damian. But if you ask why he's here, I can only tell you what motivations I know, and those are financial in nature.

-...financial?

-World trotting without leaving a trace and crime fighting are both expensive activities. Timothy needs, crudely speaking, an income source, and I'm happy to provide as long as he doesn't turn the focus of his attention towards my activities. His company is also a luxurious pleasure I'll gladly buy while he's willing to sell it.

A pause while grandfather drank some more, though it was doubtlessly a psychological attack, intended to give him time to think about what was implied.

Timothy's loyalty was a fickle thing, now that he had no soul to weight him down. He was still fighting the good fight, but his encounter with Todd had taught them he was willing and ready to fight mercilessly to get his way. And grandfather, as his biggest endorser, was more likely to be able to buy his help than the bats to ask for it.

Wordless threat made, the older man kept talking- As of right now, he needed someplace to recuperate from his fight with the Red Hood two weeks ago, and I offered this place. He has my resources at his disposal, and I don't doubt he'll leave soon with full pockets. In the meantime, I know his exact geographical location, something I'm sure you're aware how difficult it is to do, and have the indulging company of someone whose conversation doesn't make me wish I was brain dead, which is even harder to achieve.

Damian's fingers ached for the little soul he was so used to fiddle with, but he forced them to still. Even after what he said, Damian wouldn't trust his grandfather to no snatch it out of his hand if he caught sight of it.

The conversation seemed to be getting closer to its end, but a thought occurred him that his grandfather, with all his years, probably had a better understanding of souls and their workings than anyone else. He needed to try.

-Why did Drake's soul react that way when I saw him? Until now, it only gave me the feelings I believe he would have in a given situation, or reacted to my own feelings. This time it was… different.

Ra's seemed amused by his attempt, enough to answer at least.

-It's the proximity. A soul's core isn't meant to completely leave it's owner. Even though some historical lovers were known to interchange them, as they lived together, the souls still reached out to their original holders and the connection was never severed. There's also the fact that these lovers had the other's soul to compensate, as to speak. It guided them where their own soul failed to.

Again, Damian read between the lines. This wasn't Drake's case, he didn't have anything to fill his soul’s place.

He felt it surge with something akin to desperation and defiance, and Damian's own rose to the feeling. They'd find a way, even if Drake choose to reject his own soul back. He was right there, in the same building as him for the first time in years, he could/

-And now, grandson, I ask you to leave. The detective surely doesn't want to meet you here, and if he thinks I betrayed our pact by inviting you, future exchanges between us would be harder to accomplish -calmly, Ra's motioned to a servant, who brought forth a wooden box- I believe this is payment enough for your compliance.

Suddenly, painfully, Damian was reminded of his reason to be on the Australian base on the first place. He felt his insides go cold.

Damn it all to hell. 

Jon. 

He was here for Jon.

Ra’s hand softly stroke the box’s lid, before opening it to reveal a shiny orange rock, unassuming to anyone unaware of its power.

-This was what you were looking for, wasn’t it? The mineral needed to save your dying friend’s life, that very few people on Earth posses, would certainly be enough to drive you to try and steal from one as dangerous as myself. Of course, if you’d prefer to take your chances talking to Timothy and refusing my benevolent offer, feel free to search for one of those others owners of it, though I’m sure your dear superboy would be long dead by the time you found it and brought it to him.

Both souls in Damian’s possession ached while he walked out of the hidden castle, towards where he had left his stolen plane. Yearning and desperation, his and Timothy’s let hot dents of pain on his chest, like a very deep scratch by Catwoman when at her most scorned with Batman.

It was so difficult to leave, but it would have been impossible to stay. He was childish in his desire to see Timothy again, to speak to him, to try and win him back to their side, but a developing romantic emotion wasn’t more important than his best friend’s life.

Though Jon owed him a big one, this time.

----.-----

14, soon 15 -  20

-Happy birthday, Timothy -he mutters to himself, shiny blue  soul dancing between his fingers with the ease of practice. It goes unheard by the rest of his clan, every bat in the room hyperfocused on the screens displaying different catastrophes around the world- I hope it won’t be your last.

Drake was probably fine. Even if thousands had died in the last few days of this surprise armageddon, he was too smart, too skilled, too good to simply let that take his life. If Damian’s and Todd’s best efforts weren’t enough to bring him down, he doubts that whatever fuckery this was would be.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t worried, though.

-Batman -panted Superman through his communicator. On the screen displaying Luisiana, a red and blue blur worked on getting hundreds of civilians out of a mall currently on fire- we have a situation here.

-There and everywhere else, Kal -growled father, the lack of sleep adding to the drop of his voice. No one had gotten much rest lately, not while the reason for this apparent end of the world remained a mystery- Diana, how are things on your end? 

On another screen, Wonder Woman and Wonder Girl were fighting side by side what appeared to be zombies. Damian had long given up on understanding the situation.

The Amazonian’s war cry was enough answer. 

-Contact me after you’re done there, I’ll direct you to your next objective -a wave of his hand and his conversation with the Princess was muted. Another movement and Green Lantern’s channel was open-. Give me good news about the Lantern Corps. Are they coming to our aid?

By Father’s right, Nightwing had his own set of heroes to coordinate, every Titan past or present under his command. Red Hood, Batwoman, Bat Girl, Black Bat, The Signal and the Birds of Prey were currently on the field, under Oracle’s guidance. Damian himself had just gotten back from where he was taking care of his city, overworked since Gotham’s other vigilantes were dealing with this end of mankind situation and thus giving their criminals wide breath. Robin’s job in this mess was to keep their streets as clean as possible, taking advantage of school being cancelled until the world either ended or was saved to spend even more time patrolling.

It was a mess. An utter, complete mess. Something needed to change. Dealing with this catastrophes as they came was well and good short term, but it was non stop, and the heroes, even united and coordinated by the Bats, were starting to show some strain.

Damian made a fist around the shiny little orb, searching for it’s warmth to chase away the cold dread at the bottom of his stomach. The soul gave something akin to encouragement, but it was-- distracted, if a soul could ever be that. Expectant. It had been like that since this whole disaster started, and if he weren’t so distracted by literally everything, he’d be going crazy from curiosity.

Finishing the lukewarm tea Alfred had brought down to help ease the transition from Robin to Damian, he let his mind wander again, listening with one ear to both heroes in front of him, taking in the tired slouch of their shoulders. Besides coordinating everyone, Father had been trying to find some answer or solution, and the repetitive failure was taking its own troll on him. Nightwing, ever the Bat first Man and biggest emotional supporter, was likely sharing on it’s burden. He hadn’t seen Brown nor his sister in two days now, and the others in even longer, but he knew their voices and mannerisms enough to read between the lines during their nightly reports via comm; they were all on the end of their rope.

Something called his attention from the corner of his eye, dragging him back to full alertness. A little message warning on one of the least used monitors, a little behind where Father stood and thus not easily seen to him.

He blinked. It was a video call request. Who on their right mind would try and contact them with the world literally falling apart?

The soul almost fell from his fingers in it’s excitement and his throat closed. He knew that feeling.

-Computer, accept call -he commanded, feeling breathless. It gained him the attention of both his mentors, who stopped mid sentence to look over their shoulders to him, just in time to catch the exact moment Timothy appeared on screen.

He looked… healthy. His skin wasn’t as pale as he remembers from years back, no signs of insomnia under his eyes, hair combed and falling softly against his checks. He was leaning back against a couch, one arm wrapped around the back of it in a laid back manner, the position making the fabric of his blue button down cling to his well toned arms. There was something irreverent in the way he sat, a challenge in the tilt of his chin, an impossibly cooky calmness.

Damian would’ve been blown away by such beauty, if not for the empty eyes. He has seen Timothy in pictures of his younger years, happy and thriving, with his icy blue eyes shining and alive. This version of him couldn’t compare to the real deal, stunning as it was.

Still, from a purely objective standpoint… Damn. This was a very inappropriate moment for him to notice it, but damn. 

Was this what Todd called a sexual awakening? It might have been, despite how strongly he hoped it wasn’t; it’d be really ill timed, but that was the bats’ luck.

-Well, this is awkward -spoke Timothy after a full minute went by without anyone speaking. Father’s face was unreadable, as it tended to be whenever a matter involved his heart, but Grayson looked like someone that knows they are having some kind of hallucination but desires desperately it were true.

-Timmy -called Grayson, heart at his sleeve. The exhaustion that had been building on the slope of his shoulders seemed to vanish at the sight of his long lost brother, a relieved sigh escaping his dry lips as he fully turned to face the monitor. Damian couldn’t relate; this was far from relaxing to his poor, excited heart. The tiny soul seemed to say ‘same’.

His oldest’ voice was what Father’s brain apparently needed to reboot. He raised a hand, silencing all monitors around them, except the one that mattered now. In the midst of such a world wide destruction, and with the air as emotionally charged as it was, Timothy’s calmness was baffling.

-Is that Titan’s tower? -asked abruptly father, which drew the rest of Timothy’s background to his attention and… huh. It was. What the hell?

Timothy raised an eyebrow.

-Nice to see you too, B. Is that a new cowl? It really brings out your natural brooder, congratulations. 

-Timmy/

The utter heartbreak in Grayson’s voice made the soul still between Damian’s fingers to twitch painfully, but the man on the screen barely spared his former mentor and friend a look.

-Yes, this is the Tower. No, most titans don’t know I’m here, just Conner as he gave me access on the first place. Yes, we kept in touch after I went away, because the fucker is unfair and can track my heartbeat. No, he won’t ever tell you my location, we have a deal; he doesn’t rat me out, I don’t put him into a coma to keep him and the other two from following me around. Yes, like I would have done with Jason if I weren’t in such a time crunch. No, I’m no criminal. No, I haven't killed anyone this past years, but as you could have guessed, my morals are as good as gone now so I’m not against a little brutality when dealing with an issue. Does that answer all your questions? Can we move on on the important, end of the world thing? This isn’t a social call.

Both Father and Grayson seemed blindsided by such a direct approach, but Damian had expected it, and the icy orb was demanding him to try and gather more information.

-I hacked the Titans, I would have known if they were aware of you.

He didn’t think this through. Directly addressing Drake made him focus his attention on him, and Damian wasn’t exactly ready for it.

-They come to me in person. Nothing for you to track. I allow them to follow me around for some days, they like to act as my moral compasses, they hug me for hours and then it’s goodbye for a few weeks. Rinse, repeat. It’s a nice system and they aren’t as annoying as they could be, so I don’t stop it. Apocalypse situation, anyone? Can we maybe focus on that? If you guys need a moment, I can hang up and go deal with it myself/

-No! -echoed both Batman and Nightwing. Damian’s souls (both of them) silently agreed with the sentiment. Who knows how long it’d be until they got a hold of him again.

Drake seemed amused, but he didn’t press. Instead, he leaned forward to reach the holographic keyboard in front of him and set to work, bringing up different blueprints, records and strategies.

-Now, as you probably already guessed, we are dealing with aliens here. A very powerful, but vulnerable kind. Here's what I’ve got…

No more than five hours later, the week long hell they’ve gone through was done with. All thanks to a barely legal man that after  a few days of disasters decided to bite the bullet and call them, but who hang up the moment his plans were set in motion. 

The second they were clear, Father and Grayson jumped into the Jet. Damian declined, not because he didn’t want to see Drake, but because he was sure he’d be long gone from the Tower by their arrival. Especially if, as they learned today, he still had his three metas at his beck and call. And, he recalled, Grandfather.

On his way to his bedroom he caught sight of Brown and Cain, huddled together  on a couch. 

Stephanie’s locket was almost completely black, only small specs of blue shining through. In comparison, Cassandra’s compass looked like the sky, clear and beautiful, with only the barest hints of darkness seeping slowly into it as the night fell.

The rest of the way to his  bed, he clenched the icy blue soul as tightly as he could without breaking his own hand.

While it retained its color, there would still be time.

-------.-------

15  -  20

The last couple of months had been easier for Damian’s mission, and harder for his soul. Knowing that the key to track Drake laid with his friends, and with more free time than his other family members, he enjoyed an unique position of having the occasion and the resources to follow the metas to Timothy’s location, whenever they went to him. Jon was a loyal and useful friend, and had no issues on flying Damian someplace at the drop of a hat, on top of covering for him with his family. Grayson seemed elated at the concept of Damian spending so much time with his friend, so he made it his mission to keep Father off his back, which worked just fine for him and his mission.

His damn feelings, on the other hand, were a mess.

This was the sixth time Damian had followed one of the former Young Justice (Kon El, today) to Drake’s hiding place. This seemed to be a short-ish visit, a few hours of the super complaining about college while Drake steadily worked his way through a underground drug trafficking ring. The young vigilante himself had merely answered with ‘hmm’s and ‘aahh’s, according to Jon, but it didn’t seem to deter the meta. 

Damian was just sitting on a close by rooftop ledge, waiting until Drake left the building to get a last glimpse of him before leaving for Gotham, when Jon stopped mid sentence and tilted his head the way he did when he was focusing on hearing something. Then, without explanation, he left.

He didn’t even had the time to wonder about his sudden departure, when a soft touch to his shoulder had him drawing his sword and jumping into defensive position.

It was Timothy.

Damian didn’t lower his guard.

Timothy smiled, approvingly. The little soul at his pouch seemed to echo on the feeling.

-Jason didn’t view me as much of a threat -he said conversationally, walking around Damian to join him at his sitting perch, long, slim legs moving back and forth over the edge, weight resting on his hands behind his back- that’s what gave me such a clear shot at kicking his ass, but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t offensive. You can relax though, I don’t have a reason to hurt you.

It wasn’t a ‘I don’t want to’ nor a ‘I won’t’, and that’s why Damian believed it; if given a reason, Drake wouldn’t be against fighting him. It was just that he didn’t have one right then and there.

-Why approach me? -he asked, shoulders slowly losing their tension. He didn’t put his sword away, though.

-This is the sixth time you’ve tracked me down -explained the man, and he felt his heart do a jump on his chest; he wasn’t aware Drake knew-, and after the third, I realized it wasn’t for Daddy or Daddy two-point-oh. You never called anyone, never gave my location away, didn't even try to talk to me. So, I...grew curious. Asked Kon to call your little friend away so we might have a chat. Besides -Timothy looked sideways to Damian and a little smirk curved his rosy lips- it’s your birthday. Figured it was as good a occasion as any to indulge you. So I’m here, baby bat. What do you want with me?

Damian’s traitious brain had some suggestions, but he sternly pushed them all out of his mind, to the back of his subconscious for future Damian to deal with. This wasn’t the man he wanted, anyway; not with those empty eyes.

-Your soul/ -he started. 

Timothy’s entire body coiled up, as if ready for a fight, and Damian felt himself tensing in response. 

-Don’t even say it. I don’t want it back, won’t accept it. If you don’t want to carry it around any longer, throw it into Atlantis for all I care. Just… don’t bother me with that shit, or your new pastime of stalking me will be cut short.

-I wasn’t/!

-Dress it as whatever you want baby bat, but I know the score, one stalker to another.

Desperate for a change in the conversation, he went back to his mental list of questions for Drake.

-If… If you don’t want it back.

-I don´t.

-Then, what is your goal? What… what are you doing? You keep fighting Father’s fight, seeing to his Mission…

-Woah, hey. Just because your Father likes to call it his, doesn’t mean that the Mission belongs to him. I wanted to help people long before I was pseudo adopted into your little cult. Actually, the whole reason I got into it, was because your Dad needed a therapist and coping mechanism and moral compass all rolled into one, but as the picky lil brat he was, he wouldn’t take one unless it was twelve years old, with blue eyes and black hair and no parental figures whatsoever. Little me was like catnip for him, and I was just a kid that wanted to help.

Damian… didn’t really had an answer for that.

-That being said, that was true for past-me. As I am now, I couldn’t care less about the ‘good fight’. Any fight would do for me. If I’m still saving people, it’s merely because past-me trained this body beyond what’s healthy to make it virtually impossible for me to ignore evil doers. It’s basically muscle memory, or a vice. 

-Muscle… memory? How so?

Timothy hummed, eyes going up as he searched for the right words.

-If I don’t fight crime, I start getting twitchy, and feeling odd, and it’s just uncomfortable. Without soul, I lack motivation and function because of needs. I’m thirsty, I drink. I’m hungry, I eat. I’m tired, I sleep. Like a baby, impulses are all that matter to me. Except for coffee, because my body goes through literal withdrawal when it goes long without it, and crime fighting. Also the reason why I find it hard to fight against those three metas that keep following me around; my body is just used to go into ‘protect and care for’ mode when catching sight of them, it’s night to impossible to be aggressive. Or why I had no problem kicking Jason’s ass to kingdom come; I have a flight or fight reaction to him ingrained into me, and now, I chose to fight.

The small, hidden part of him that had hoped Drake retained some part of his soul (maybe a secret, maybe hurting?) was ruthlessly squished by the man's words. 

-Why did you help us, then, against the aliens? They weren't in your way, and you didn't get a fight out of it, merely gave us plans -tries, someway childishly.

He received a look that made him feel dumb. He wasn't used to it.

-I live on this planet too, you know. If it goes to shit, so do all of us. It was a matter of self preservation.

There was no denying any of that. Timothy’s eyes remainded empty, light amusement the only emotion flickering through his expression.

The tiny soul by his soul pouch gave the equivalent of an indignant cry to Damian.

‘Get me back on my body. Give my emotions back to him. Fix this’, it demanded.

‘I don’t know how’, he wanted to reply.

‘Figure it out’ was the uncompromising answer. 

It was scared. Timothy’s soul was scared of what he had become, of what he’d continue to be without it, and it was begging Damian for help. This wasn’t about proving himself to father, or to Timothy, any longer. This was to help him; save him. Bring him back to what he was before.

He needed a plan, and time to develop it. 

Throat swallowing hard, he weighed his options. Contact with Timothy was needed, if a chance to return his soul was to be taken the moment it appeared.

Thinking back on all that was said, he felt an idea start to form.

-Would you mind if I sought you out sometimes? It’s…  quiet here, and you aren’t as annoying a company as the rest of our family members can be.

-Your family, you mean.

-Be that as it might. You could help me with cases, and won’t care if a particular one is specially hard or dangerous. That kind of cold insight might be useful, and it’ll help calm your need of doing good, won’t it?

He expected a denial, or negotiation. But of course Timothy merely shrugged.

-I told you before, I don’t care. About anything, really. Stay, go, do whatever, as long as you don’t get in my way or try to give me that shit back. If you can follow those two simple rules, we won’t have a problem.

Damian ignored the dryness of his voice, the hollowness of his eyes. Instead, his focus was poured into the feelings he got from the soul at his pouch.

Pride and anticipation. He was on the right track.

Fear. This path wouldn't be easy.

Gratitude. He was doing all of this for Timothy’s sake, nothing he’d gain from it.

And… a special kind of fondness. It wasn’t yet on par with the one he had felt for months every time the icy blue soul was in close proximity with Todd, but… it was getting there.

A hot flush of excitement went through him. 

He was going to do this, and do it right, and maybe… maybe Drake wouldn’t hate him by the end of it all.

[oinonsana]

ANG ANTINGERO AT ANG MANANANGGAL NG PANTALAN

Wherein one exploit of the feared Antingero Miguel Nagbulan is recounted by himself to his close friend and writer Alfonso Valarao, who has written this tale and given it to the publishers of the Empire.

Long live and beautiful day! These greetings I give to the people that will read the following tale. It recounts the great adventure of the Antingero Miguel Nagbulan in his time in Barangay Pantalan, in the island now known in the 116th Year of the Pearlescent Empire as the Island of La Abhorra.

#

The story begins when our Antingero hero—ah, he tells me his no hero, but I am a writer, and by virtue of writing, I must embellish the uh, shit and polish the gold. Ha?—of course I won’t go overboard with the embellishments! The craft of a true writer is balance. Anyway.

It begins with our Antingero hero, Miguel Nagbulan, as he crested a low hill, which was flanked on both sides by bamboo and large trees. The slow trickle of a stream encircled his arrival. It was as if nature itself, that greatest temple in the world, opened her gates to reveal the barangay on the other side.

Our Antingero hero blinked, revealing a slight wrongness in his eyes. Bloodshot, yet the color of night. His face was shaded from the afternoon sun by a simple hardwood salakot, sure to defend from the sharpest of blades. Upon his horse, he had hooked up several rattan bags, each one containing his provisions for his travel.

Travel from the southern port and to the inland barangay had been a dangerous one. Tulisanes abounded, bandits who fight for the freedom of the people from the opressive Empire. Our Antingero hero sympathized with their plight, but in the rising age of mercantilism and because the magical power imbued upon that magical item that is called coin, he was forced to keep up his lonely job.

Of course, his job is not one that many would’ve wanted to have. In truth, it cannot be considered a job in the slightest. The Empire itself does not consider the Antingero a job. It considers them a necessity. One of those necessities one must have but might not want, like wax scrubs. Or baths.

I jest, antingero. We all bathe in the Isles. Only the damned colonizers didn’t.

But I digress.

Our Antingero hero nudged the horse forth. “Come on, Tahimik.” His voice, when he spoke, was soft and sonorous, the timbre of an academic and a poet, a spokesman and a politician. One might be wondering what such a beautiful voice is doing spoiling it all away by becoming a vagabond.

But as our Antingero hero passed a great mango tree, its branches spread out as if to catch the heavens, he remembered why. Around the tree were gravestones—not very neatly kept, but functional enough. The gravestones were simple ones, and had writing etched upon their heads as a remembrance to their family. Surrounding the cemetery were great jackfruit trees, coconuts, narras, and bamboo.

The sun seemed to shine down upon a single man, kneeling before a single gravestone. He wore a simple necklace adorned by a simple upside-down five-pointed star: the holy symbol of Dyosveta. More importantly, around his wrist was wrapped a rosary, and as the man rose and walked away, he recited his prayers, counting off each bead with every step.

Deaths of natural death or deaths because of violence or any non-strange phenomenon was always mourned once, and then celebrated at every anniversary. Deaths caused because of supernatural phenomena, however, were not celebrated. If one were to visit the grave of one who suffered that death, it is mandatory for you to pray the First Decade of the Rosary, else you be the next sufferer of the death.

Antingeros, although not exactly some kind of monster hunter and more of a warrior, have lately become the most popular person to deal with such supernatural phenomena. Their knowledge of orasyones, the invocations, as well as their multiple magical charms, called Anting-Antings, for which they are named, and usually pragmatic knowledge of monstrous beasts have become the leading cause of this phenomenon.

Of course, since the Empire and the Church denounce them, stating that they are “no-good rebels and terrorists”… they have been given the dirty eye and the curse of being “aswang”, monsters, even as they help.

The man that prayed the rosary? When he saw the Antingero upon his horse cantering down the bridle path, he immediately averted his eyes and looked away, and quickened his walking. Usually the antingero would’ve been showered with such gracious and pious words such as “Rebel, terrorist, salot, monster, fiend, devil!” but the man could not break from praying the First Decade.

The Antingero guided his horse down into the baragay, which had a single main road cutting through its middle, and with both north and south ends of the barangay having arches that read “Welcome to Barangay Pantalan!” in the front and “Thank you for coming, see us again!” in the back.

Once inside the barangay, only then was he showered by the expected “praises”.

A young boy immediately turned his eyes away when he accidentally kicked his rattan ball over to Miguel’s direction. He and his friends looked at each other, said “terrorist!” and they immediately ran away.

A labandera, a woman carrying a wooden tub filled with her laundry, sneered at him and muttered “What a maniac!” as she passed by.

Another man trotted his horse quicker when he passed by Miguel, muttering “aswang” under his breath.

Two men wearing white shirts and red pants stared at him from afar, talking lowly enough so only they can hear themselves. But Miguel knew what kinds of things they were saying. He didn’t need to hear them. He’s heard it a lot before.

He cantered his horse over to where the nearest inuman, or drinking place, was. He found it not too long enough, since it was the only place not as crowded in the day. A simple hut with cogon grass roots and bamboo walls upon bamboo stilts. A wooden sign, written in the Shore Script, the official script of the Empire, said: “Aling Nenang’s Eatery.”

There were still people there, of course. There were around four tables laid outside, with some men drinking from wooden cups on one of them. Within there were sure to be more.

Miguel dismounted from his horse and tied him down to a nearby fence. Then, avoiding the gaze of the staring men—who were buff with their years of working in the fields—he entered into the drinking place, climbing up the wooden chairs and arriving at the small porch. By the side of the doorway was a porcelain vase filled with water. Miguel removed his boots and washed his feet, letting the water sift through the bamboo slat floor. As he dried his feet, he heard conversation from within. That the store wasn’t helping pay enough to cover for their fees and taxes, since everybody incurred beer debt and no one paid their dues. The voice was from a young woman speaking with a man.

He laid the boots beside the rest of the slippers and footwear and entered.

Now would be a good time, I think, to recount what our dear antingero was wearing during that time. He tells me that he wore a bamboo breastplate, called a pakil-kawayan, over a thickly- and tightly-braided abaca cord mail known as a barote, with an abaca undershirt underneath that reached his knees, called a habay-habay, in the style of the footsoldiers of the Empire. However, he wore no gauntlets nor gloves, and the sleeves of habay-habay only reached his elbows. Instead, he wore numerous bangles and bracelets, each one adorned by some divine or blasphemous image, or made of gold, or actual rosaries made from the bones of saints. Over it all he wore a straw rain cape which formed a triangle from his shoulders. His anting-anting, all ten of them, hung from his neck, but he concealed them within his habay-habay.

And, of course, he wore the salakot to protect his head, but he removed that as he entered into the eatery.

The eatery was mostly, with wide open windows letting air flow. A short-haired girl sat on a counter that lay infront of an annex, presumably where the kitchen is, wearing a baro’t saya get up: a blouse and a skirt. Par for the course for country girls. Stray strands of hair matted to her lightly sweating forehead, and her eyes had severely dark bags under them, as if she hadn’t slept in three days. When she heard the antingero walk in, she said, “Ah, welcome, ginoo.”

Miguel nodded at her. “Beer.”

“Bucket?” she asked, wiping he forehead with her panyo, or silk handkerchief. Miguel shook his head, and put up a finger to indicate that he only wanted one. She nodded, walking into the annex.

When Miguel had settled on a chair and bench on the corner, she was there with him, putting the bottle down. He smiled and nodded, and placed three silver pieces on the table. The girl nodded in return and picked up the pieces, before leaving. As the girl left, Miguel removed his salakot and placed it beside him. As he did, his eyes met with one of the many men eyeballing him. There were some women also sitting around, eating lugaw, or rice porridge, using a pamaypay, or a hand fan made of buri leaves, usually crudely done, to cool themselves.

Miguel averted his eyes, awkwardly.

It was at this time that Miguel had pulled out a pocket journal and had begun writing in it, using a quill and a crude inkwell in a wooden container, sealed tight with resin. He wrote the things that happened in his journey: his quick encounter with the tulisanes, who had let him go when he revealed that he was an antingero, as well as the small pig that he had to kill to get some meat for the journey. The random river where he got his water, and the one that struck out to him the most: the wooden spirit house that was now dilapidated and abandoned. He remembered then the stories from his grandparents, how during in the past these spirit houses were given to revere the nature spirits, but now not many people do it, for they believe Dyosveta to be the only god worth worshipping.

Every time they would end one of their stories about this past, they would end it with the chilling, “Now the nature spirits have abandoned us in turn.”

It wasn’t long before the scant number of men and women and children that sat around the small eatery were looking at him weirdly. Perhaps it was too early for beer, but in truth that never stopped him before. He contemplated on ordering some breakfast, some tapa with rice would do, when one of the men stood up. He tried his best not to freeze like some cat suddenly caught sneaking. He had left most of his weapons back in his cart, his bolo hung from his horse, and so did his arquebus.

The man did approach him, wearing the telltale white polo buttoned-down and red pants rolled up to above the shin of a farmer. No straw hat, but he did have with him a horribly smug demeanor. “Hoy, antingero.”

Miguel sighed through his nose. He drank another swig of his beer and looked up, raising an eyebrow. Miguel wore his curly black locks proudly.

“You think we like what you’re doing, huh?” asked the man, putting both hands on the table and leaning on it, nodding and grinning. “You think we approve of rebels, eh? You know that the Empire’ll smite ya? All we need is to go over to the kota.”

Miguel nodded, managing a slight smile. “I don’t want any trouble, ginoo.”

“Oh, of course you don’t. But then suddenly, you’ll attack innocent settlements and steal their goods and indoctrinate the good people to your cause, eh? We don’t need your stupid ideologies. We need the Empire to thrive.”

Miguel shook his head. “I’m not here to do politics.”

“Ah. So what are you here for?”

“I’m just passing through.”

“And where you headed?”

“To Pinagsama, ginoo,” said the antingero. “The city where all meet.”

“Ah, you’ve got a date there or something? Your nobya?”

Miguel gave the lightest of shrugs. “You could say that, ginoo.”

“Well, we don’t need any more seperatists, you got that?” The man spat on Miguel’s rain cape. “Your no value ideologies aren’t welcome here in Pantalan.”

Miguel sighed and nodded as the man walked back to his friends, muttering and talking with them. They were grinning, smiling, rolling their eyes.

Miguel looked down on his beer, and took another drink. Three-fourths of the way through, that breakfast sounded good.

Miguel was about to raise his hand to call for the young girl over the counter, but stopped himself midway through just as a woman burst in through the doors. Wearing a simple maroon skirt and blue shirt, her hair stuck up everywhere, frazzled. Her eyes were bloodshot and wide, and she was gripping her stomach. The woman had strangely sharp features, and wore gold necklaces and bracelets. Miguel wondered if she was principalia. “Aling Nenang!”

The girl behind the counter looked up. “Binibini Zeny?”

“Dayang, iha, where is your Aling Nenang? I need her help, please!” And the rest of the people in the eatery were on their feet, helping her to sit down and rest and lie and tell her tale. She was crying, or had been, with her cheeks glistening with tears.

Dayang had walked into the annex and come back out with a middle-aged lady, who rushed over to the woman, who had been named Binibining Zeny. “Zenaida, what happened? What’s wrong? What happened to your baby?”

“Oh, Aling Nenang,” and she wept. “Oh, my baby. My love! He has been removed from me, he has been eaten away from me! What a curse, what a horrible bleeding affront by the Devil!” And she wept all the more, and the people in the eatery comforted her by rubbing and patting her shoulders softly, and crooning with comforting words.

“How could you have miscarried? You were bearing a healthy child….” Aling Nenang placed a hand upon her belly, and shook her head. “Hay, what a tragedy, my binibini. Your child has been eaten.”

“Was it the manananggal?”

Miguel stared at his beer bottle.

“It is maybe so,” said Nenang. “Oh what a tragedy. Even within your stone house, your bahay-na-bato, you have been struck! Even with your tiled roofs and capiz shell windows! The monsters know now boundary.” And there was an uproar, even as the Binibini cried. “Come, let us return you to your father the Kapitan.”

Miguel sighed at this point, and I am with giddiness and excitement to tell you that he did, in fact, step in. He put his salakot on to maintain a sense of mystery—I tell you our antingero is a man of exquisite theatrics—and said: “You need a demon slayer?”

The people around him stopped, and stared at him with evil glares, as if he was anathema. But then, after a moment they all looked at each other with doubt. None of them knew truly about the malevolent spirits and creatures that abounded the Isles, and the antingero were known to be either experienced or educated about them, or at least some of them, for the creatures evaded taxonomy, and each one was a demon to each island.

Aling Nenang rose to her feet. “You’re an antingero, yes?”

Miguel nodded once.

“But you work for coin.”

“Aye. Sometimes shelter. Antingero are not well received, you know.”

“Well you know what they say, Aling Nenang,” spoke one of the farmers again. “It takes an aswang to know an aswang.”

Aling Nenang ignroed the raucous laughter that erupted from that quip. She bit her lip and then said: “Come with me to the kota, where the Kapitan is. Perhaps he is willing to pay you in exchange for your expertise.”

Miguel nodded again. He hadn’t wanted to, but his greater sense of justice and altruism got the best of him—he told me this, not me. Anyway, he rose from his seat, finished his beer, and then gestured for Aling Nenang to lead the way. Aling Nenang did, bringing with her the weak and sleep-deprived Binibini. The men and farmers gave him a wide berth, still eyeing him with disdain.

Miguel, with his horse Tahimik in tow, followed after Aling Nenang. They walked over the dirt path to the middle of the village, where stone walls over 15 feet tall that had stone arches for openings protected the richer families within. This was the fort, or in the local tongue, the kota, where most of the rich live.

“Sorry for the trouble, by the way. I heard Tonyo scaring you over there.”

“Ah, it’s all right. I get it all the time.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

Miguel snorted. “Never expected sympathy.”

“Well, I sympathize with the rebels and the pulahanes and the tulisanes.”

“You do? Even as they plunder and terrorize your villages?”

“I’ve heard what they do,” Aling Nenang said, still guiding the binibini along. “They’re only forced into such violent confrontation becaese the Empire refuses to acknowledge them, and the Emperor specifically likes killing them to strengthen his power.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“I was supposed to join them, when I was younger,” said the Aling Nenang. “But I decided against it, since I had a baby.”

“Oh? Was that the girl in the counter?”

Aling Nenang nodded. “She’s a good girl, even without a father. Devout, pious, easygoing. I’m one of the lucky ones, too. The Manananggal of Pantalan has been terorrizing our barangay for as long as I can remember. Even when I was pregnant, I went to sleep at night fearing this.”

“You weren’t attacked?”

“No,” said Aling Nenang, as she looked over to the glass-eyed Binibining Zeny. “I might’ve been lucky.”

“Do you have an albularyo here?”

Aling Nenang nodded. “A bit of a ways north, by the border of the forest. I spoke both with him and with our priest.”

“That explains it. Did you follow what the albularyo said?”

“Well, I followed both. I hung a buntot-pagi, a stingray tail, by the door and scattered salt around my house, and also prayed the rosary and placed the pentacle upon my door.”

Miguel snorted. “Following both. Good choice.”

“Is that why I wasn’t attacked?”

Miguel shook his head. “The monsters of the Islands don’t care for the Dyosvetan religion. To them, Dyosveta is just another bathala, another god in the pantheon of nature. Another sky god. Dyosveta might be powerful, but some creatures can ignore him. However, they cannot ignore their nature.”

“The buntot-pagi.”

“Yes. What else can you tell me about this manananggal?”

Aling Nenang licked her lips. “You could always ask the Kapitan, you know.”

“I put more trust in the words of the common folk than the nobility,” said Miguel. “The nobility, within their stone kota, can be separated from it all sometimes.”

“I guess you’re right. Well, the Manananggal has been around, like I said, for many years. Some say since the birth of Pantalan, a few hundred years ago when we were still a colony of Ysparanza. Others say the Manananggal changes every decade, and each Mananaggal was different, that some of them are kind.

“But one thing was for sure with the Manananggal of the past: they almost never attacked those within the kota.”

“Hm.” Miguel stopped and tied Tahimik down to a nearby fence right before they crossed a stone bridge over a moat. The kota was not grand, but it did its job. Moss and dirt and time had claimed the walls. “So the principalia never followed the albularyo, did they?”

“Perhaps some, but definitely not most.” She clicked her tongue, looking down at the Binibini. “Definitely not dear old Zenaida.”

Two armored guardsmen, known as kawal, stood on both sides, arquebuses at the ready. They gazed sharply at Miguel, their mouths in a strictly neutral line. “Beautiful morning to you, ginoo. We bring with you the Binibini, who must see a physician as quickly as possible.”

The kawal took another look at Miguel. “And the antingero?”

“I bring him with me for I believe he can help us with our manananggal problem.”

One of the kawal gestured for the other to frisk the antingero, and they did. However, they found no weapons upon the antingero, save for his anting-anting, and so they let him through. He, once again, left his armaments back on his horse.

“You may pass.”

“Thank you, ginoo.”

#

Past the walls, within the kota, the streets were wide and paved with red stone. Palm trees were set up all around, not as natural edifices but as decorations for the nobles to gawk at. The few houses that were by the gate were already beautiful: exquisite bahay-na-bato, similar to the bamboo stilt houses but with the stilts replaced by an entire basement layer and ground floor made of stone walls. Within, wooden stairs lead up to the living area, which is still separated from the ground floor by waxed wood. Capiz shell windows provided shelter from the light, but they were mostly wide open to let the cool air wind through. The roofs were made of ruddy brown and red glazed roof tiles, which provided protection from the overbearing sun.

The three of them walked through the road, where the ginoos and ginangs were lounging about. One of them—wearing the telltale barong tagalog, a button-up shirt made of transparent piña fiber—was singing to a woman, who wore an intricate butterfly-sleeved blouse and two layered skirt, which was called a baro’t saya. Children walked around wearing collared polos and slacks and leather loafers, carrying with them books and scrolls. Teenage girls walked around with abaniko, or hand fans made of wood and silk. Some of them had their fans pointed down, and the teenage boys that saw these girls would walk up to them, smiling and courting.

Miguel, unfortunately, had no time for that kind of trifle. Neither was he born part of the principalia.

As he passed by those that he saw, each of them looked at him with a mix of wonder and fear. Some young women hid their faces behind their abaniko, while others simply looked away in disgust.

Then a single young boy walked up to him, wearing an unbuttoned barong tagalog over a simple white shirt. He wore a panyo, or a handkerchief, around his neck. “O, ginoo, you are an antingero, are you not?” His grin was wide, and his voice was that brittle tone one would expect from an adolescent. “Please, teach me about your adventures! You’re so cool, with magic powers, like the knights of old!”

“Stay in school, child,” Miguel replied. “And don’t go around idolizing men like me. We’re no knights. We never had knights. Only warriors.”

“Huh? But our schools—“

“Your schools teach you the history of the oppressor, not the oppressed.” And Miguel had to catch up with Aling Nenang. The boy scowled at him.

Eventually, they arrived in the plaza, in the middle of it all. Beside a large stone church was a great bahay-na-bato, with many annexes, and with a backyard garden. A novelty only the principalia could have. Sitting by the window was a woman, sipping on tea, fanning herself with her abaniko. When she saw Miguel and Aling Nenang with Binibining Zenaida, she turned and immediately called to her house-help to bring them up to their living room.

The house of the Kapitan was large, as large as two bahay-na-bato combined. The living room was expansive, decorated with paintings bought overseas and white-and-blue porcelain from trade with the Siyanlei People of the northwest continent. A large piano sat in one side, and the living room itself had a coffee table adorned with literature written by great writers of the Eastern Kingdoms, such as Kazizki, de Fulgum, and Naquia. Two of the books on top were the ones written by injos of the islands, in other words natives: Cecil Tanyaga’s THE BROKEN BLACK TREE, an ancient poem, and THE CLAWS OF MORNING by Horatio Sapantaha.

Miguel had read them both, having been reared by antingeros, who treasured the native written literature as it held the ideologies they would cling to in the most darkest of hours when facing the tyranny of the Empire.

“Beautiful morning, Ginang Floreza,” said Aling Nenang to the woman. The Ginang’s was face slightly wrinkled but more or less fresh. Surprising for a woman of her age, Miguel supposed. “We’ve brought home your daughter.”

Of course, Floreza didn’t hear the rest. She fell upon her daughter and hugged her, bringing her close. “Oh Zenaida, why did you leave so abruptly? Oh, you poor child. Yaya? Please bring her to her room and give her proper water and help. Call Doctor Severo into Zenaida’s room so that he can take care of her.”

The helpers walked in, wearing nothing but a simple blue robe that allowed for air to flow. They carried Zenaida into a hallway, where the rooms were.

Ginang watched her disappear, and when she did, she turned to Miguel and Nenang. Her lips were drawn down into a seething scowl, although her “polite” upbringing made her keep her lips as neutral as possible. Somehow, that was even more searing.

“She came to you first?”

“Didn’t you know of the miscarriage?” asked Aling Nenang.

“Of course I did. The blood on her sheets was enough to tell me the truth. I didn’t know where she went, however. But, of course, she went to you.” And her mouth turned up in disgust. “And now I suppose you’d want a reward.”

“Oh, no not me. I am simply a friend of your daughter—“

“I should have never allowed Zenaida to walk out of the walls of the kota. She didn’t need friends like you.”

Nenang blinked. “Ginang, if my respect would be lost for a while, your daughter would have suffered intense shock and pain if I hadn’t brought her here. And she requires a physician.”

Ginang Floreza sat on one of the wooden couches, which had seatings made of Siyanlei cloth and down. “Shut up. If I hadn’t allowed her outside, she would’ve never met you, and she would’ve stayed here and never have miscarried.”

“Now, leave.”

Aling Nenang bowed low. “Of course, Ginang.”

“What, no thank you?” said Miguel grinning and crossing his arms.

Ginang Floreza stopped then, staring up at Miguel. Her face was one scandalized, as if she couldn’t expect such lowly scum like him to be talking to her. Like a demon speaking to a virgin. “Why have you brought an aswang into my midst?”

Aling Nenang never stood up from her bow. “Apologies, Ginang. The antingero is well-versed in the lore of the dark. Perhaps he will be able to help us with our manananggal problem.”

“I doubt it. We’ve hired antingero before. They’ve never succeeded.”

Miguel raised an eyebrow at that. An interesting tidbit.

“Tell me the details, and I might be able to help.”

“We don’t need it,” said Ginang Floreza, looking away and fanning herself. “I don’t consort with demons. Kawal—“

And as she yelled out, a man wearing an exquisite barong tagalog and slacks and leather shoes arrived, wearing spectacles and bringing with him a walking cane adorned with gold. He walked up the stairs into the living room.

“What is this?”

Aling Nenang turned and saw the man, and immediately bowed even lower. “Kapitan Verado!”

Ginang Floreza took one look at the man, and then looked away again. “She brought our daughter home.”

“Oh, Zenaida is home?!” He began hobbling forward, Ginang Floreza told him not to intrude, since she was in pain and the doctor will be tending to her. She told him that Zenaida had miscarried.

“Ah, dear. Oh, my Lord, my God, my beloved God,” he said, in a sorrowful tone, as he lowered himself to sit down upon a high-backed chair. “I must thank you, Aling Nenang. I must give you recompense, for your service. Here.” And he pulled out two gold coins. “Some escudo. May the God Above bless you.”

Aling Nenang bowed low once again, received the gold coins, and said, “Thank you, with all my heart, Kapitan.”

“Return to your home. I’m sure you have business to tend to.”

“Yes. Thank you again.” Aling Nenang stood up, and then looked to Miguel.

“Don’t worry, I can handle myself,” said Miguel. Aling Nenang nodded, and then walked down the stairs, and out of the house.

“It seems the manananggal problem that the rest of Pantalan has been suffering has caught up to you.”

The Kapitan’s white hair and light beard only emphasized his tired visage. “Yes. So brazen too, this manananggal, that they would attack so close to a church.”

“The manananggal might have gained enough strength to overpower the holy symbols of the church. Many creatures have.”

“How can anything be more powerful than God?” asked the Kapitan.

“Many things,” said Miguel. “But I am not here for that. I’m here to help.”

“Ah, antingero, coming to help. I was friends with many antingero in the past—it is why not a lot of bandits attack Pantalan—but lately the antingero have become more violent.”

Miguel shrugged. “The Empire pushes, and nature pushes back.”

Ginang Floreza’s gaze was enough to cut.

The Kapitan, however, cared not much for the politics. “I would gladly receive your help, and pay you in full.”

“Twenty gold pieces, real escudo.”

“Twenty?” The Kapitan stared at his cane, and then nodded. “Very well. That can be arranged. Anything to rid us of the Manananggal once and for all.”

Miguel nodded. “I need a few questions answered: when did this all start?”

“A hundred years ago, give or take. I’ve known that past Kapitan have also suffered this trouble. However, not until now did the manananggal come to attack within the kota.”

“So I’ve been told.” Miguel stroked his stubble in thought. “Have you killed anyone during this time?”

“Yes. We’ve thrown those we thought to be manananggal off to the lake to the west.”

“The name of the lake?”

“Laglagan,” said the Kapitan. His voice was tired. He called for the helpers to bring him some civet coffee. “Laglagan was the name.”

“What does your priesthood here tell you about the situation?”

“The manananggal are evil, but only because the townsfolk are evil. The manananggal come because they are being punished for their evil deeds and letting the devil into their lives.”

Miguel nodded again, but he knew what bullshit it was. “Then I don’t need to go speak with the priest, then.”

“Why not?” Cut in the Ginang.

“They know nothing, and I’d rather not have the church down my throat.” Miguel turned to the Kapitan and asked, “Do you have a place where there are a lot of banana trees?”

“Banana trees? Why do you ask? There are groves close to the lake.”

“Banana tree trunks are low and look similar to human bodies. Easy for a manananggal to hide her lower body in.”

“Ah, of course.”

“Any suspicious people?”

The Kapitan opened his mouth, but then shook his head. Ginang Floreza spoke: “That Nenang is pretty suspect.”

Miguel raised an eyebrow at that, and then said to the Kapitan—ignoring Floreza completely: “Any more details from the townsfolk?”

“Ah, I’ve… never heard much from the townsfolk.”

“They don’t talk about it?”

The Kapitan swallowed. “No, no. It’s just, I… I forget, sometimes.”

“Hm.” Miguel nodded. “All right then. That’s all I need, for now.”

“Does a demon slayer require downpayment?”

Miguel shook his head. “I always finish my job.”

#

Later that afternoon, with the sun softening its bright gleam, Miguel returned to Aling Nenang’s Eatery. There the people have begun to pile in as the day’s work was being finished.

Miguel had walked up to Aling Nenang and asked for salt and garlic. Aling Nenang, who knew why, gave him two batches in wooden containers, like condiments. Miguel couldn’t help but laugh. Aling Nenang laughed along too.

“Ah, my God. I’m glad you came along. The Kapitan just always sat there inside his stone kota and never cared. You know, until now. Must’ve been fate. You believe in fate, antingero?”

She said this as she cooked. It was getting humid hot inside the kitchen, and Miguel’s clothes began matting to his skin. “Yes,” said Miguel. “But only the ones that can be changed. Where’s your daughter?”

“Dayang? She goes to sleep early on, usually, and she studies at night. She has school, on the morrow.”

“So she usually does that? Sleep early and study at night?”

“The work gets too heavy at night, since everyone drinks and eats.”

“So she just stays at your home?”

She nodded. “Her room is in the annex over there. Ahm, please don’t disturb her.”

“Right.”

Aling Nenang raised an eyebrow. “What about the manananggal? You know, I’ve always suspected if Ginang Floreza was the manananggal. She’s always so uptight, loves to abuse people she doesn’t like, and she lives in the kota!”

“A possibility,” said Miguel nodding. “But that’s every principalia noble.”

“Or it could be my Kumare Rochelle? She’s always gone in the night, and always sleeps in the morning!”

“Never met her.”

“She’s pretty lazy.”

“That makes sense, then. Well, I’m sorry for keeping you. What are you going to do now?”

Miguel glanced at the annex where Dayang studied. “Test my first hypothesis, and go to where a manananggal always goes.”

#

Miguel walked west, departing from the bridle path. He wore his bolo—enchanted by spiritual magick, forged by a Katalonan-Panday—on a sheath on his side, and an arquebus behind him, just in case. He wore a shield on his back as well: a long kalasag made of hardwood. That was all he brought with him as he ventured. He had left Tahimik behind, not wanting to bring unto him any harm.

The walk to the lake wasn’t far. By the time he had arrived by the banana groves, he could hear the quiet sloshings of water against the shore, and the night was so dark one would not be able to recognize the person before them. Miguel brought with him an oil lamp to illuminate the way.

Thankfully—or perhaps, it was fate—the moon shone down upon them, providing a serene glow upon the night.

Miguel walked straight into the banana groves, looking with his eyes if there were any that resembled a human lower body. When the banana groves became indistinguishable, he put a finger to his lips and whispered “Patingin, patingin, sa lagim patingin. Buksan ang ilaw sa likod ng mata.” An orasyones.

His eyes suddenly clouded over, and then began burning a bright white, like stars shone behind them. Suddenly, he could see as good as day, and he turned his lamp off. He resumed his search, and the longer that went, the greater the throbbing of his head.

However, in the smack dab middle of the grove of bananas, he found it. Writhing and without intestines: a standing lower body, wearing no clothes, and with a skirt folded neatly beside it.

Miguel smeared the cloves of garlic upon the body, and then sprinkled salt upon it. As he did, the lower body sizzled, as if he were cooking upon charcoals.

And then, he turned off his lamp and walked to a nearby tree, hiding behind it. He closed his eyes and the effects of the orasyones faded away. Now, using only his ears, Miguel waited for the telltale sound of beating wings.

#

When the sound came, it was not a single pair, but two. One was quick, the other was slow. So slow that one would not be able to hear the second pair if one wasn’t accustomed to silence.

Using the orasyones again, Miguel activated his sight. He looked up, seeking the point in the sky where the noises were coming from, as he rose to his feet and unsheathed his bolo and kalasag. There! He saw them: one was a woman, completely naked, but with wings of great size, so voluminous that they were like dark moon crescents. Her hair was short, and her face was deadly familiar. Her wings beat rapidly, like a fly escaping a bat.

And truly, that analogy could not be more true, for chasing after her—and providing the second set of wings—was a huge creature, with skin midnight black, and with an overly long needle-tongue hanging, being pushed back by the winds.

As they neared, the manananggal looked familiar, even as her innards threatened to spill out. She wore a similar baro to the one he saw earlier….

Through his vision, he saw her face as she looked back at the demonic flying creature that chased after her.

Dayang, thought Miguel, his suspicions confirmed.

And the creature that chased after her, with wings a strange mix of an owl’s and a bat’s with an elongated neck and needle-tongue, was a tiktik. It flew fast but rarely beat its wings, and it flew even without wind, like a statue suspended by silence, moved by a ghost.

Miguel unsheathed his arquebus and pointed it up at the tiktik right as it flew by, for Dayang was seemingly flying in the direction of the lake. He pulled the trigger, and a blast of light erupted from its barrel, and a ball slammed onto the tiktik’s side. It roared without sound, and spasmed, but it continued on its path chasing Dayang, who was past the groves of bananas now.

Miguel slung the arquebus across his back and readied his bolo and kalasag, as he plunged into the banana groves. He passed by Dayang’s lower half and, with a quick sweep of his hand, removed the salt and garlic that still sizzled upon it. Then, he ran out the other side of the banana grove, and into the shores of the lake, where Dayang flew overhead, and the tiktik—as large as two men—followed after her.

“That’s a large tiktik,” said Miguel. “Unusually large.”

The tiktik was a creature of perseverance and Miguel knew that Dayang would be caught eventually. So he clambered on top of a boulder, and yelled at Dayang. “Over here!”

Dayang, thankfully, saw him, and scrambled toward the boulder. “Bring him low,” yelled Miguel again, and Dayang did so. She flew as close to the ground as possible without skidding across it, and then suddenly pulled up as she neared the boulder, clearing Miguel.

The tiktik, stupidly, followed suit, low and slow, tongue hanging uselessly. Its gut was so large that it skidded across the ground.

Miguel leapt off of the boulder and plunged his bolo deep into the tiktik’s back. It spasmed again, and this time it screeched. An inhuman screech that sent Miguel’s heartbeat into overdrive.

“Kalmado, kalmado, sa ngalan ng Santo ng Buwan.” He uttered the orasyon for calmness, one that would help defend against both mental assault and spiritual. He felt his heart slow, his mind clear up. Now, outside of the forest, the moon was bright upon their midnight battleground, and he could see enough to deactivate his sight orasyon.

The tiktik flailed, sending Miguel skidding ten feet away. But Miguel was quick, with his newly sharpened senses. He ran forward, his boots allowing him to ignore sharp rocks on the ground, and caught the tiktik’s long neck in a headlock just as it was beginning to ascend off the ground (which it did so in that eerie, wings non-moving manner, as if it could move itself without any movement). The tiktik flailed again, and the screech was so close to Miguel’s ears that they bled.

But Miguel, calmed, used the sharp edges of his kalasag to pierce the tiktik’s head and push it down. He used the kalasag’s edges to pin the tiktik to the ground as he raised his bolo. But then, the tiktik’s needle-tongue punctured Miguel’s hand, and flung his bolo away into the water. The needle-tongue flailed wildly a few more times, twice striking his exposed arms, once striking his brow, ripping skin off.

Following that, the tiktik’s needle-tongue struck Miguel’s chest. But his three layer armor managed to stop the needle-tongue from piercing deep. One of his anting-anting—the one made to protect from darkness—vibrated.

“God damn you, you ugly bitch mother.” Miguel grabbed the needle-tongue—which was sharp and long enough to be a kris—and with a yell of effort, ripped it from the tongue itself. The tiktik shrieked in pain, and it flailed, even as its bat-bird wings flailed ineffectually and still slowly.

Breathing, Miguel pulled his leg back and stomped his boot down upon the tiktik’s head. And then, with the tiktik’s own needle-tongue (which still disgustingly writhed, for it was organic) he impaled the tiktik’s head into the ground.

That was the only time the tiktik stopped moving.

“Back to nature with you,” said Miguel, breathing heavily. He pulled back and stretched. Pain seared through his brow and hands, but it was nothing he hadn’t handled before.

He pulled the kalasag up from the ground, and pulled it on his back again. When he turned to retrieve his bolo from the lake, he saw that Dayang, the Manananggal, had retrieved it for him, and brought it back to him, still half-bodied.

“Thank you for… taking care of the tiktik.”

“Hm.” Miguel sheathed his weapons. “I assume you haven’t been eating fetuses?”

Dayang shook her head. “Not all manananggal do,” she said. “We’re fine eating pigs and fish. Sometimes the fetus of cows and carabaos, if we’re especially hungry.”

“But you’ve never eaten any fetuses. Not Binibining Zenaida’s?”

Dayang shook her head and held her arms. “I’m… no. I have only been manananggal for 4 years. It’s… a difficult existence. I can hardly stay awake at school. But, so far I’ve been able to avoid any suspicion. Which is good.” Dark circles wreathed her eyes. “I don’t need to eat much, though, which is good for the Eatery.”

“So it’s the tiktik that’s been eating fetuses.”

“For more than two hundred years, apparently.”

“Ah,” Miguel nodded. “That’s how it got powerful enough to ignore the church.”

“It was more powerful than God?”

“Many things are,” said Miguel. There was a silence as the lake’s gentle waves underlined their uncertainty. “The rest of your life will be like this,” continued Miguel. “Until you can pass it on.”

“Yeah. That’s what Maria told me.”

“Maria?”

“The one who made me manananggal in the first place. Gave me the black chick so she can finally pass on.”

Miguel nodded. The both looked at the tiktik. It had begun to decompose already, darkness eating away at it. “What made you agree?”

“Love,” said Dayang. “I loved her.”

“How old was she?”

“Two hundred and thirteen. She became manananggal when she was 17.”

“And you’re?”

“19.”

“Hm.” And then silence took over once again. The moon watched them carefully, waiting for what virtue will erupt from their hearts.

#

The next day the antingero, who hadn’t gotten a wick of sleep, went to the Kapitan with the sharp blade that was the needle-tongue. Realizing what the antingero had accomplished, with the needle-tongue as proof, the Kapitan gave him 20 gold pieces, saying that he deserved it for ‘finally riding Pantalan of a century-old curse.’

The antingero thanked him, and then left with a leather bag filled with clanking gold coins.

He went over to the now just opening Eatery as it was ten in the morning. Dayang was setting up the place as the first few customers were piling in, ordering the usual. Aling Nenang was still sleeping, so Dayang made sure to prepare some breakfast meals to sell.

“You all right?” asked Miguel.

Dayang smiled and nodded. She looked not as haggard as when she was, well, half a body, but her dark bags still underscored her otherwise pretty eyes. “Yeah. Um, a bit of a stomach ache, but it’s mostly gone now.”

Miguel apologized, saying that it was the last few bits of salt and garlic he had forgotten to remove. Dayang said it was okay. Miguel placed the leather bag in her hands. “Keep it.”

“What’s this?”

“For the Eatery. Stay safe, and be blessed.”

Dayang blinked, and she looked into the leather bag. When she saw what was inside, she shook her head and began to protest—

But Miguel didn’t care. He was already climbing down the stairs, deaf to Dayang’s protestings. He untied Tahimik from his horse, and sent him into a canter and out of barangay’s northern arch, which read “Thank you, come again!”

#

And thus ends, our tale, as recounted by the antingero himself, Miguel Nagbulan. This was not written to sway popular opinion in favor of the rebels, but it is both a tale to entertain and to make you think. Make you think about the people that you deem as aswang.

May you all be blessed, and may you all have a beautiful day.

Signed MIGUEL NABGULAN and ALFONSO VALARAO on this 25th Day of the San Petro Moon, 116th Year of the Pearlescent Empire, after the freedom of the Archipelago.

[randomnumbers751650]

An excerpt of my webnovel, it’s one of my favorite parts that I’ve written, check out:

----

She made an exposition about a few stories from the Heian period, including the Tale of the Bamboo Cutter. It was one of the most well-known stories of Japanese folklore: Kaguya was found by a bamboo cutter and her presence blessed the family to the point they managed to get rich and attract many suitors, and her adoptive father expected her to pick one to marry.

Kaguya herself was not interested in these men trying to take advantage of her wealth, so she gave them impossible tasks that proved to be impossible. Later, the emperor tried to court her, but it didn't work, but they did manage to become friends, exchanging poems as the custom of the era dictated.

The tale had a tragic ending when it was revealed Kaguya was a princess of the Moon and she would return there by the end of the summer. The emperor tried to stop it and placed her under arrest, but it was for naught: the Moon outfit arrived to retrieve Kaguya.

Although it wasn't the first time Mara heard that story, it was the first time she heard it in its fullest, and she couldn't help but to feel uncomfortable. Maybe because the story reminded of her and Tojava? About a girl whose true nature was hidden and condemned to leave the world too soon?

Her unsure feelings only deepened with the end of the story: Kaguya was given a feather cape that erase all her love for humanity – she became a true Lunarian and left her adoptive father in grief; the emperor refused to accept immortality and ordered to dispose of the elixir in the crater of the nearest volcano, that would be called Mount Fuji.

"...Mount Fuji is our greatest national pride and this tale was created to explain why it earned this name." Tomizaki ended.

"That's pretty sad." Kazumi blurted. She tried to comment to Mara, but she said louder than she intended. "Like the time-"

"Hm, would you like to talk about it, Ms. Hagihara?" the teacher asked.

Kazumi at first looked embarrassed, but got up from her seat and said, "I don't get it. Why did she have to leave humanity behind? Sure, I can understand the emperor rejecting the gift, but why couldn't Kaguya marry the emperor?"

"It seems cruel, but it's the way it's supposed to be," the old woman said, her gaze impassive, befitting her age, "Your history teacher, Professor Renji, would say it's because Kaguya was actually an alien, but let me ask: can a leopard change its spots? Kaguya couldn't deny her origins. As much human she tried to look, she wasn't one of them. The tale is about the humans surrounding her than herself, for that reason it is called 'The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter', not 'The Tale of Kaguya'."

"But..." Mara lifted her hand.

"Yes, Ms. Shimada?"

Mara didn't even know why she lifted her hand. Even the other students were surprised with her lifting her hand so suddenly, since she usually avoided participate in class. Seeing her being the center of the attention caused a small panic in her, but she took a deep breath and got up from her seat.

"But...I wouldn't want to end like this."

"Why do you think that, Ms. Shimada?"

Mara really didn't think what she could say. It just that something in that story bothered her in her soul. If she hadn't met her other self, maybe it wouldn't bother her, but with the inclusion of Tojava everything changed. She looked down a bit.

"To us living in our age this may sound cruel," Tomizaki said, giving her sympathetic look, "But this is how our ancestors viewed their society. Perhaps the author of this story was trying to condemn the noble caste, and how cold and far removed they are from ordinary folk. But even the nobles can suffer like us, like the Emperor did. Still, humans are humans. Lunarians are Lunarians."

"But she was a good Lunarian."

"A good Lunarian must ignore humans. Treat them as impure creatures that are far from them. In the Moon, there is no suffering, but there is also no character – if they wanted to deny a human's right to exist, they could and that wouldn't be considered wrong. That is the reason why they needed to remove the humanity Kaguya acquired on Earth. Maybe, deep in her heart, Kaguya was still glad for everything she went through, but we will never know."

Suffering builds character. It was a lesson that Mara knew ever since she was young. She accepted it, but how it hurt. It was the doctrine she believed, with hopes of a happier future. But, at that moment, there was no reward, just surviving each day doing her best. Her doubts hadn't been answered and she sat down, while they continued the discussion, now onto other topics.

"That seems...wrong..."

---

The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter is one of my favorite fairy tales, even if it’s so tragic in the end, and an inspiration to Mara and Tojava’s story. You can read the tale anywhere in the internet, but I’d recommend this version that’s considered the most faithful to the original from before the Heian period.

You can read Mara’s story at Wattpad.

[imaginesnkdorks]

“Words Unsaid” Levi x Reader

Pairing: Levi/Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Violence, Language

Words: 3580

She never thought she’d miss fighting titans. It was horrible, yes, but it was her normal. This – the existence of other humans and other nations – is so new and confusing! It’s been four years, yet Y/N can barely keep up with all the changes.

She knows it’s bad, being a soldier and not being able to adapt much. Still, Y/N tries. But then Eren went rogue and started that shitshow in Liberio. The politics of it all is lost on Y/N, but she does know that it only put a spotlight on them. What’s more, is that they lost one of their veteran fighters and close friend, Sasha.

The only thing Y/N is positively thankful for is how she got a lot closer to Levi in the last four years. Going through hell the way they did is bound to do that to people.

She remembered it as if it was just yesterday – Levi took her and her 104th cadet corps classmates under his wing after Reiner and Bertholdt reveal themselves to be titan shifters. Y/N won’t deny that she was intimidated by Levi, and occasionally scared of him. Still, it’s difficult to not admire the man. Levi is really someone who –

“Oi! You look constipated. Need to use the can?” Levi pulled Y/N off her thoughts with one of his well-known jokes. Y/N made a face at that, but ultimately just ignored it, opting to tell Levi something she’s been meaning to all day.

“I don’t trust that monkey.” She said firmly like nothing could possibly ever change her mind.

“I don’t, either.” Levi answered as he continued putting rations in his pack. Y/N decided to give him a hand and grabbed water canisters for Levi. “I don’t like you being alone with him.”

Levi finally stopped and stared at Y/N for a long time. Releasing a heavy sigh, and shoulders drooping with all the weight and responsibility he’d been carrying for years, Levi tried to reassure her.

“I won’t be alone with him. Thirty fully armed soldiers will be with me.” They were quiet as they continued their preparation. See, the residents within the Walls – residents of Paradis Island – finally took a move against those formerly aligned with Marley.

A bag of tea leaves were the last thing to go in Levi’s pack, and their silence was now accompanied by their stillness. Which is the opposite of Y/N’s heart. Restless is an understatement. She knows Levi can handle himself, however this Zeke posses’ power they’ve never seen before.

“I know you’re worried, Y/N. Things are becoming more unpredictable. But I need you to focus on your task.” Levi told her, gentler this time. Because, unknown to Y/N, Levi actually enjoys her company. Still, getting closer to her is both exciting and terrifying to Levi. “Stop worrying about me and focus on your task. And stay alert… stay safe.”

“Fine.” Y/N wanted to say a lot more than that but decided against it. Levi is right, after all. It won’t do her much good if her minds keep on wondering. Besides, she and those left from the 104th class has to deal with Eren.

“Well, I’m off.” Levi was just about to open the door and leave when Y/N found herself calling after him. Why? Y/N doesn’t know why she called Levi – there’s nothing else to say now, is there? She thought about telling Levi how she feels – since years ago – but that sounded like they’re saying goodbye for good.

“What?” Levi only received a shake of her head. Still, the silence spoke volumes. Levi echoes the same thoughts Y/N has at that moment. He stalled at the door, deciding what to do and – oh, fuck it, threw caution to the wind.

“Uh! – “All Y/N could do was make a meek sound of surprise. Levi reached out and hugged her. It was over in an instant, and Y/N was left confused as Levi rushed out red-faced.

“Y/N!”

“Yes?” Y/N was out of it. Her last interaction with Levi still sketched in her mind. Overthinking every detail, she even lost sleep on why Levi would do that?

“Let’s go.” Hange tried to get her attention again. Finally, Y/N decided that she’d just ask Levi when they see each other again. And she should do what Levi asked and focus on the task at hand.

See, a bunch of soldiers – mostly new recruits – released information about the Liberio incident to civilians and journalists. Naturally, people started to harangue the Survey Corps, especially Commander Hange. Hange, Y/N and some soldiers are about to face the bunch of soldiers who are dubbed Jaegerists.

What’s more, is that General Zackley was murdered by these fanatics of Eren. It literally was a shitshow and whirlwind of events these past days. And the fact that Y/N still hasn’t heard from Levi is starting to get onto her.

         And as a cherry on top, Eren escaped his underground prison. Making their way to the horses, Y/N made her thoughts known. “We couldn’t possibly trust Zeke, after everything that Yelena and the rest did.” Still, she was most worried about Levi.

         “Of course.” Hange agreed, “we have to be thorough. If we don’t want to be played like fools, we have to expose Zeke’s scheme.”

         “How do we do that? Inquired Armin.

         “We have to talk to the other Marleyans, of course.”

         They ended up at the restaurant – a place where Marleyans more or less felt at home. Y/N would like to say that everything went peachy afterward – they got exactly what they wanted, drank wine and ate good food, exposed Zeke and got rid of him, and got all the happiness they deserved. Alas, it’s just where things got worse than they thought possible.

         Turns out, the Wine the Marleyans gave out were contaminated with Zeke’s spinal fluid – and any Eldian who drank it would turn to mindless titans whenever Zeke wants them to.

         Which brings them to their current predicament.

         “Do you think this will work? Water will really wash it out?” Y/N asked Jean as she tried washing off the blood from the boy’s face and mouth. Hange was busy with filling the tub with water and telling Onyankopon what to do.

         “I don’t know.” Jean answered her all business. Clearly, his mind is on the whatever Zeke has planned.

         Nervousness started to spread from Y/N’s nape down to her toes. Zeke is effectively threatening every Eldian here with his spine-wine despite being far away. “Levi… they could be in trouble.” Y/N said but was interrupted by a scuffle outside.

         “Hange!” Jean and Y/N shared a look. Hange went to see what it’s about.

         “What is it?” Hange inquired. “Wha -?! Floch?” Jean and the others can’t help their curiosity now, even Y/N. Making sure the kid won’t drown, Y/N also went to look. Surprised? Yes, anyone would be if they see themselves at the end of several rifles.

         “Commander. You must know where Zeke is. You’re going to take us to him.” Floch said, all business. He seriously looked ready to shoot and kill them. But Y/N couldn’t care less about that. This can’t happen – these Jaeger loyalists shouldn’t be anywhere near Zeke! Especially now that Levi’s with Zeke.

         Before Y/N could do anything though, Hange took over. “Listen, we’re not trying to oppose you. Didn’t you get the proposal from the corps?”

         “Yes. And we declined it. We don’t negotiate with the corps.”

         “And why’s that?” Hange said, eyes wandering over all the hostile soldiers.

         “Eren’s decision.” By this point, Y/N is no longer paying much attention. Her thoughts are running wild on how she could get to Levi and warn him. She could go back inside – pretend to still care for the boy they were helping earlier. Y/N is pretty sure there’s a small window she could sneak out of. And then …

         They were pushed at gunpoint. Floch knocked at a door in the restaurant – one of the many private party rooms – “We’re leaving.” A voice which sounded a lot like Eren’s answered, “Okay.”

         Y/N was shoved in a carriage with the injured Marleyan kid and Hange. Why? Floch decided that Y/N will be more likely to cooperate than just Hange. Floch knows Y/N would want to see Levi as soon as possible.

         After stopping first at the Cadet training camp, they continued towards the general location of Levi’s camp. Y/N wanted so badly to talk to Hange and plan. Some way to get rid of Floch. Y/N could barely glance at Hange without one of the Jaeger loyalists – Jaegerists – pointing a gun at her or threaten her.

         They reach a river, and as they were crossing a small bridge, something exploded in the distant.

         “What is that?”

         “A lightning strike?”

         While they were distracted, Hange and Y/N were finally able to share a look. It wasn’t a lightning strike, it’s a thunder spear.

         “There must be something happening in the direction where the sound comes from.” Floch announced. Y/N wanted to rush there more than anything, but she must act smart.

         They came upon a steaming titan, injured horses, and a blown cart.

         “Y/N, Commander Hange, please don’t move around on your own.”

         Y/N mind was a blank yet chaotic at the same time. Her eyes scanning all around. Thunder spears mean someone from Levi’s squad was here – or Levi himself. And that was when Y/N saw it – the wings of freedom!

         Someone was lying at the river bank wearing the green cape of the Survey Corps.

         “Someone’s over there!” Y/N yelled, voice shaking. Y/N has a sickening feeling that it’s Levi. “Hey! Are you still alive?” Y/N’s heart stopped the moment she turned the person’s face towards her. “Levi?”

         Shards of the iron bamboo were embedded on Levi’s bloody face. “No…” Y/N was rushing to check Levi’s state, and more importantly if he’s still breathing. Y/N didn’t even notice Hange at her side. Levi still has a pulse, weak, but it’s still there.

         “I have no idea what happened… but we’re lucky. Our number one threat is here all bloodied up.”

         “Let’s shoot him in the head.” Y/N instantly moved to shield Levi with her body. Mind rushing to plan to escape. Hange told Floch that Levi’s dead. While she was busy convincing Floch and the others, Y/N was still stumped as on what to do. The river?

         “I can also take his pulse. So let me have a look.” Floch was starting to walk closer, making Y/N stand defensively.

         “Move aside.”

         “No.” Y/N was standing firmly. She won’t back down even when Floch pointed a gun at her. “No.”

Floch’s finger was about to pull the trigger when someone called him. “Floch! There’s something weird with this Titan!” At their distraction, Hange and Y/N decided to take Levi and escape, hoping the water won’t kill the injured Levi.

---

“He’s not breathing!” Hange said, and that was all Y/N needed to hear to take over. She began to give him chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth. “Breathe! Please, Levi…” Desperation was what kept her running. “You can’t die yet. No…”

Y/N’s mind was filled with memories of her and Levi, just drinking tea together or cleaning his office… and their brief hug. Y/N wasn’t even able to tell him how she feels.

A beat… faint, but it is there. “His heart!” Y/N exclaimed and can’t help the laughter that escaped her. It was certainly a combination of relief and stress.

“We need to find shelter… and to get warm and dry.” Hange said despite knowing that she’d be the one to do that. There’s no way Y/N would leave Levi. Of all people, Hange is the one who surely understands – she’s the one to catch all their longing glances towards each other after all!

They – mostly just Hange – were able to find an abandoned and run-down cottage. The single cot was only big enough to fit Levi. Both Hange and Y/N had to settle for the rickety chairs or just lay down their capes as makeshift blankets.

Y/N never left Levi’s side. It’s been two days and he still hasn’t woken up. His injuries are not good, still, he’s alive. And Y/N is very thankful for that.

“I’m heading out now.” Hange announced as she set off to scavenge for food. Good thing there is a lot of fish in the river and some wild mushrooms and root crops near the cottage.

“Okay. I’ll be right here.” Hange was about to say something else but decided against it. Nodding at Y/N, she went out. It was becoming their routine. Y/N feels guilty about leaving all that work to Hange, but she can’t exactly leave Levi.

         She began to clean Levi’s wound for the day. Long gushes and deep wounds now cover his face. Y/N made sure to take all the blade shards, still, Levi would have to live with these scars. And his hands! He lost tips of his fingers. Y/N don’t know if he would still be able to do the things he once was.

         Y/N busied herself with repairing what’s left of Levi’s 3DM gear. They need to survive, and it’ll be difficult without a single weapon. There are barely any usable pieces of blades left as well. Y/N’s mind was on strangling Floch when rustling sounds reached her ears.

         “Y/N…”

         “Levi!” Y/N literally dropped everything. Levi’s voice was weak and so unlike him. “How do you feel?” She asked, moving closer to inspect him.

         “I feel like shit…” This answer gave Y/N some relief she needed. Levi sounds a lot like himself already. “That crazy monkey, he turned them all into titans.” Levi had a far-off look on his face, probably thinking about his fellow soldiers.

         “He really did, huh? It was the wine. Everyone who drank it also ingested Zeke’s spinal fluid.”

         Levi finally turn to look at Y/N. “You didn’t have any of it, did you?” Before Y/N could answer, Levi tried to reach out to her… and noticed his hand for the first time. A good part of his index and middle fingers are missing – the very fingers use to hold his blades.

         Levi was quiet, almost very quiet. Y/N didn’t know what to say, so she just grabbed Levi’s hand. What do you say to someone who just went through what Levi did?

         “You’re okay now. I’m sorry we didn’t come earlier…” Feeling of guilt wash over Y/N, “I should have been with you.”

         Levi gripped her hand as hard as he could, and his stare was more piercing than usual that Y/N is sure Levi can read all her thoughts and feelings.

         “Don’t. It’s not your fault. We had no idea it was gonna end up this way.”

         “Still, it’s not a good feeling.” Y/N answered quietly. Neither of them noticed how tight their hands were intertwined by then. Surely a sign of the feelings that remain unspoken.

         “Thank you, by the way. I’m probably only alive because of you, Y/N.” It was at that moment Y/N heart stopped. Levi just gave her a smile so sincere and gentle; it took her breath away. Y/N can’t stop the smile that appeared on her lips – a smile so big her cheeks hurt.

         “I’m sure you’d do the same for me.”

         It was a quiet couple of days. Levi was recovering quickly, and Hange was finally able to take longer breaks since Y/N is now able to forage and hunt.

         “We need to have a plan.” Levi declared one night as they were having some squirrels for dinner. “If Jaegerists are successful in taking over, we can assume that no help would come. It’s up to us.”

         “You’re right. I still have connections in Trost, though. I just have to get in touch with them.” Hange was clearly already planning everything. She has that focused looked of hers, something she usually gets when her mind is on capturing titans.

         “I can get in contact with them for you.” Said Y/N, taking both Hange and Levi by surprise.

         “No.” Levi said firmly, clearly unhappy about the proposition.

         “What do you mean no? You and Hange are too recognizable. I doubt anyone would pay attention to me.”

         “No. Floch and Onyankopon know who you are. It’s too risky.”

         “Well, it’s better me than Humanity’s strongest or Commander Hange now, is it?”

         Sensing the sudden onslaught of tension, Hange made a wise decision of getting out of there quickly. “Let’s talk it over more tomorrow morning. Rest up you two! I’ll take first watch.” And off she goes.

         “Look, I know I can do this. I’m also a soldier like you, remember?” Y/N hissed. Unhappy being an understatement. She was unmoving on her spot on the dingy cot – something Levi absolutely detest – and was trying to avoid Levi’s eyes. She’s not sure what she was expecting to happen, but she does know that she just wants them… Levi to trust her to do this.

         Levi let go of a deep sigh, and after shaking his head, he went on to sit beside Y/N. “I know you’re more than capable. You’re one of the most talented people I know.”

         “Then why?” The brewing annoyance inside Y/N seems to disappear the moment she laid her eyes on Levi. Concern was evident on his face, and that took her by surprise.

         Quietly, almost inaudibly Levi let go of his frustration. “Fuck it…” He turned, eyes burning with all the pent-up emotions he gathered throughout the years, “I don’t want anything to happen to you. You’re the... most important person to me. Has been for quite a while now. And I’ll be damned if I let you walk out that door and get caught up in all this shit!”

         Y/N felt like she forgot how to breathe. It’s like both her chest and throat was burning! And she never thought she wanted to hear just what Levi said, but it was something she really needed to hear. “So, you don’t doubt me?”

         “No, of course not. I just want you to be safe. As safe as we all could be anyway.” It was when Y/N finally gave in to her urges and launched herself on Levi, engulfing him in a big hug. Tears of happiness and relief were threatening to spill from her eyes, so she buried her face more on Levi’s chest. She felt his hand hesitantly pat her back… before he did it again, and again and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

         Seemingly coming to her senses, Y/N pulled away, “I… um I’m sorry about that.”

         Shaking his head, he brought his hand to Y/N’s face, caressing her cheeks in a very sweet and warm gesture. “Don’t you think we ought to be more honest to each other now?”

         Y/N’s laughter rang around the room, bring warmth and joy to the clearly crappy little cottage. “I guess you’re right.” And it was like words were no longer necessary. Suddenly, everything seems to make sense and both Levi and Y/N are thankful that everything happened the way they did as it brought both of them here and now.

         It was only natural for Y/N to close her eyes, and for Levi to close the gap between them. The kiss was light as a feather at first, as if they’re both testing the waters. But that little gesture broke the dam, and every feeling they ever had for each other came pouring out.

         It was passionate and loving; Levi felt a thirst like no other and he was seeking relief from Y/N’s lips. They let this action talk for them, still, it wasn’t enough. At one point they had to come up for air as if they were drowning – drowning in each other’s affection.

         “I love you.” They said, almost at the same time. And they know and felt in that moment that whatever happens, whoever wins this blasted war, the two of them would never regret a thing as the words that went unsaid for years are now laid out.

         “I love you.”

Copyright © 2019 by imaginesnkdorks. All rights reserved

[mulanxiaojie]

On screen, Li Ziqi’s life seems to defy the rules of reality.

The Chinese internet celebrity is famous for her videos in which she performs the work of a farmer with the grace of a fairy. Her fans on social media platforms, both in China and internationally, including YouTube and Weibo, number more than 58 million.

In one video, she picks flowers on horseback in a red cape, evoking the image of Red Riding Hood. In another, she builds a bamboo furniture set using traditional Chinese techniques.

While the videos have a cinematic quality to them, it’s her deep knowledge of food, nature, and Chinese culture that impresses viewers. She appears to make everything from scratch, going as far as hatching baby ducklings and raising them just to make a sauce from egg yolk.

Li rarely speaks in her videos, and when she does, it’s in the local dialect of her home province, Sichuan.

She also seldom gives interviews. But in our exclusive interview with her, she opens up to us about her life, craft and early struggles as a one-woman band.

“In today’s society, many people feel stressed,” Li says. “So when they watch my videos at the end of a busy day, I want them to relax and experience something nice, to take away some of their anxiety and stress.”

Li grew up with her grandparents in a rural part of Sichuan province in southwestern China. She says she moved in with them after her stepmother mistreated her.

When she was 14, she went to the city in search of work, but she decided to return to the countryside in 2012 to take care of her grandmother.

Four years later, she began filming her life there.

“When I worked in the city, it was about survival,” Li says. “Now when I work in the countryside, I feel like I’m truly living.”

Li’s videos depict her and her grandmother as they go about their daily lives in their modest home. She is often seen preparing elaborate meals for her grandmother using basic ingredients and traditional techniques.

“I simply want people in the city to know where their food comes from,” Li says. “A teacher friend once told me about some students who thought rice grew on trees. So I want kids in the city to know where their food comes from.”

Li is part of a growing field of online video makers in China. The market is competitive, worth an estimated US$6.5 billion and with a potential audience of hundreds of millions.

Video channels depicting rural life are a dime a dozen. One only needs to scroll through TikTok and Kuaishou, a Chinese video app, to find clips of people catching fish with their bare hands, farmers fashioning clothes from burlap sacks and campers going full MacGyver in the wild.

But while many of these videos are fast-paced and cut with quick edits, Li’s videos have an ethereal, cinematic quality to them.

“I think this is just how things happened,” she says. “At first, when I did everything myself, I’d set up a tripod, film and then press stop. That’s why all my shots are on a tripod and don’t move, and that’s why my videos are still filmed this way.”

In her videos, Li often prepares elaborate meals for her grandmother using basic ingredients and traditional techniques.

Her detractors question the one-woman-band premise, but Li brushes it off as sour grapes. Two years ago, she uploaded a behind-the-scenes video showing how she used to operate on her own.

Nowadays, she has help from a videographer and assistant, but she still directs all her videos. During our interview, which Li’s crew filmed, she did not hesitate to give precise instructions on which angle to shoot from and where to stand.

“I’ve always been the director of my videos,” Li says, “from what to film and how to film to how each shot is framed. Often, my videographer only knows what he’s filming on the day of the shoot.”

Video channels in China depicting rural life are a dime a dozen, but unlike Li Ziqi's, many of these videos are fast-paced and cut with quick edits.

The poise that Li displays in her well-polished videos belies a playfulness and spontaneity that only comes out when the camera is off.

While we were hanging out on a bridge, Li tried to pluck a lotus flower that was growing an arm’s length away.

When she couldn’t reach it, she got down on all fours before completely falling on her stomach, laughing and joking in Sichuanese as she desperately tried to touch the flower.

And while Li never utters more than a few words in her videos, off camera, she can be loquacious.

While we were waiting to set up for the shoot, she went on for a good five to 10 minutes on the subject of bamboo.

Once the cameras were ready, she composed herself again.

Viewers often ask whether her videos are real. Indeed, her final pieces are heavily edited — even our interview footage came retouched with heavy filters — but after spending time with her, I believe the question might be moot.

While Li’s videos allow her audience to indulge in a fantasy world, many of the techniques she portrays are grounded in real-world knowledge and come from a genuine desire for the pastoral ideal. The only thing she has sculpted is her on-screen persona.

“I’m just filming my life,” she says. “Or rather, I’m just filming the life that I want.”

[lemmy-koopa-rocks]

Kwami OCs and Hero's for a fanfic.

These are Kwamis and Heroes for a fanfic. The kwamis are mine, the characters themselves aren't. If you wish to do fan art of the kwamis, let me know. And yes, Chloe is good in this fanfic. @friendlyneighborhoodborg and I are working on outfits, so you'll find those out later. Now:

Bonezz: a skeleton kwami, she's rude, but does try her best to help others. her miraculous is a skull barrett and the weapon is a bone staff. the special ablity is Bone Brigade, which repeatedly stabs the enemy. A male hero is called Bone Face. A female hero is called Miss Bones.

Juuk: A music note kwami who is shy, to the point of rarely speaking her thoughts. Her miraculous is a music note bowtie. Her weapon is a microphone, and her special ability is Sonic Shout, which can shatter windows. A male hero is called Baritone. A female hero is called Pitch.

Wishh: A genie kwami, she wll grant the wishes of whoever weilds her. Her miraculous is, well, the Genie's lamp. The weapon is the lamp itself, and the ability is Wish Granted. A male hero is called The Blue Genie. A female hero is called Wish Mistress.

UFK: A UFO kwami whose name is short for Unidentified Flying Kwami. Their miraculous is the UFK eye contact miraculous. The weapon is the eye contact, which can either perfom one of two abilities; Scan(doesn't use power) and Abduct(which does start the five minute timer and can make an enemy vanish). A male hero is UFO-Man. A female hero is Lil-UFO.

Bakuu: A Baku kwami who spends her time sleeping or helping others sleep, AKA, she's ok with normal people seeing her. Her miraculous is the Baku Cane, which is also the weapon. The ability is Sleepy, which actually puts a teamate to sleep so they can get extra time after using their special ability. A male hero is Mr. Baku. A female hero is called Drowzee-Hypno(which are Pokemon based on Bakus).

Shrimpee: A shrimp kwami who is sassy, comical, and silly. His miraculous is the Shrimp Headband. The weapon is a shrimp shaped gun that shoots....Shrimp. The special ability is Teeny Tiny, which shrinks enemies.A male hero is called Big Shrimp. A female hero is called Le Crevette(The Shrimp in French).

Ursa Major & Ursa Minor: A mother-son kwami duo, these to are exactly what you'd expect. Major is motherly and loving, Minor is tough and over-confidant. Their miraculouses are the Bear Gloves and Cub gloves. Their weapons are brass knuckles. Major's special ability is Motherly, which allows the user to heal their partners and restore their timer. Minor's is Confidant. Male heroes are called Papa Bear and Kid Bear. Female heroes are called Mama Bear and Baby Bear.

Icee & Fiire: Two tin kwamis, both are mischievous, yet friendly. Icee has a Winter Necklace for males(Icee is male), while Fiire has a Summer Necklace for females(Fiire is female). Their weapons are dual guns that shoot fire and ice. They share the ability Dual blast. A male hero is called Frosty. A female hero is Heat.

Seven Sea: The Parrot Kwami whose name is actually Parro but prefers Seven Seas which (headcanon) Anarka gave her. She is like a stereotypical pirate and was disguised as (headcanon) Anarka's parrot when she was 5. Her Miraculous is the Parrot Eyepatch(which (headcanon) Anarka unknowing stored away in a drawer, which is why Seven Seas "disappeared". Her weapon is a Cutlass. The ability is Parrot's Call, which allows a nearby hero to be called to the parrot user. A male hero is called Captain Parrot. A female hero is called Captain Seven Seas.

Ninjjii: The Ninja Kwami...Who changes gender according to their holder. Ninjii's miraculous is the Ninja Mask. Their weapon is....Normal ninja tools. Their special Ability is Smokey Clone, which creates smoke clones. A male holder is Darkness Ninja. A female hero is Shadow.

Eyezz: The Owl Kwami and the very thing the Damocles saw as a child and inspired him to be Dark Owl. He is..Well, wise. His miraculous is the Owl Glasses. The weapon is the cape itself. The ability is Wise Sight, which allows the user to see the future. A male hero is, well, Dark Owl. A female hero is Future Owl.

Hallo: A Pumpkin Kwami. She was born when A woman started the trick or treating craze. Her miraculous is the Pumpkin Hat. the weapon is a Pumpkin Bowling Ball. The ability is Trick-Or-Treat, which either trick the enemy into hurting themselves or treat the heroes with a temporary weapon upgrade. A male hero is called Pumpking. A female hero is called Lady Halloween.

Petaal: The Flower Kwami. He has a sterotypical gay accent. His miraculous is the Flower Hairclip. the Weapon is a Flower Wand. The ability is Flower Power, which makes Flowers grab the enemy. A male hero is Called Flower Man. A female hero is called Flower Queen.

Spectre: The Ghost Kwami. She's actually the spirit of a young girl who studied Kwamis and it's rumored throughout Francois Dupont that she was Ms. Mendeliev's daughter. Her Miraculous is a hood that she was rumored to have gotten form Mendeliev. The weapon...There is none actually, only her intelligence. Her ability isn't ghost related, it's actually related to chemistry(she creates nitrogen bombs, oxygen bombs, hydrogen bombs, etc). A male hero is called Paranormal. A female hero is actually called Chemistry Lass.

Hopp: The Frog Kwami. He is very sassy, and sarcastic. His miraculous is the Frog Headphones(actually Earmuffs). The weapon is a hand cannon. The special ability is Dimension Hop. Bunnyx usually has the frog holder use this for her to jump through. A male holder is called Hypno-Frog.a female holder is called Dimension-Frog.

Leona: The Lioness Kwami. She is, well, prideful and serious. Her miraculous is the Lioness Crown. The weapon is a scepter. The ability is Prideful Roar, which fills teamates with pride, nobility, courage, and bravery. A male holder is called King Lion. A female holder is called Lioness.

Faang: A bat Kwami. She is vampirc, but enjoys spending her time sunbathing and eating garlic bread. Her Miraculous is the Bat Bowtie. The weapon is a bat shaped boomerang, in reference to Batman. The ability is Health suction, where the user absorbs all nearby enemy health.A male user is called Count Vlad. A female user is called Baroness Blood.

Finn: A Shark Kwami. He is upbeat and outgoing, and loves singing. His miraculous is the Shark Earring. The weapon is a pistol. The ability is Shark Frenzy, which allows Finn himself to sing for teamates to give them a morale boost. A male hero is called Sharktooth. A female hero is called Depths.

Mummee: The Mummy Kwami. She constantly claims to have served a pharaoh. Her miraculous is the Mummy Ankh. The weapons are a crook and flail. The ability is mummify, which mummifies the enemy for a short time period. A male hero is called King Tut. A female hero is called Pharaohpatra.

Nevermore: The Raven Kwami. She is dark, depressing, and quiet, usually saying Nevermore all the time. Her miraculous is the Raven Mirror. the weapon is the mirror itself. The ability is Mirror Reflection, which reflects any attacks. A male hero is called E.A.P. A female hero is called Mirrora.

Rexx: A T-Rex kwami. She is an idiot who is all about being extreme.. Nothing else. Her miraculous is the T-Rex Choker. The weapon is a clamp. The ability is Growth. A male hero is named T-Wrecker. A female hero is Biterz.

Roboo: A Robot Kwami. It is pretty happy, and doesn't think before it acts. It's miraculous is the Robot Ring. The weapon is a laser gun. The ability is Heat Laser. A male hero is called Reboot. A female hero is called KOKORO.

Imp: The Demon Kwami. Despite being a demon, she's actually very sweet and shy. Her miraculous is the Demon Ring. The weapon is a Bow and Arrow. The ability is Demonic Possession, where a shot arrow hits an enemy and turns them against their partners. A male hero is called Incubus. A female hero is called Sucubus.

Halo: The Angel Kwami. Despite being an angel, she's stubborn and narcistic. Her miraculous is the Angel Ring. The weapon is a Bow and Arrow. The ability is Love All, where teamates affected by hat attacks are healed. a male hero is called Raphael. A female hero is called Angelina.

Midnight: The Moon Kwami. He is smart and calm, unlike his younger sister. His miraculous is the Moon Glove. The weapon is a Moon Hammer. The ability is Weremoon, which transforms the user into a werewolf. A male hero is called Were-Lad. A female hero is called The Wolf.

Midday: The Sun Kwami. She is dimwitted and overexcited unlike her older brother. Her miraculous is the Sun Glove. The weapon is a Sun Hammer. The ability is called Rising Phoenix, which turns the holder into a phoenix. A male holder is called Fire Feather. A female holder is called Flying Phoenix.

Gemi N Mini: The Gemini Kwami. These two kwamis are literally ying and yang. Their miraculous are the Gemini Bracelets. which split the holder into two completely different people. The weapon are the Gemini Nunchuks. The ability is 2x2, which splits the holder and their double into two, resulting in a total of four. A male holder is called Kid Multiply. a female holder is called X4.

Bamboo: The Panda Kwami. She's mute, but is usually very emotional. Her miraculous is the Panda Brace. The weapon is a spear. The ability is Spotty, which blinds the enemy with spots. A male holder is called Monsier Spot. A female hero is called Bamboo Stick.

Quickling: The Hedgehog Kwami. She is impatient, fast talking, and quick thinking. Her miraculous are....A pair of Hedgehog Shoes. The user has no weapon has no weapon, just her speed. The ability is Ultra Speed, which makes her user go 4 times as fast as usual. A male holder is named after Sonic the hedgehog, Sonic. A female holder is named Speedburst.

Bullhoorn: The Bull Kwami. She is a videogame lover. That's all. Her Miraculous is the Bull Headband. The weapon are two twin lances. The ability is Bull Rush, where the user can charge at enemies with no pain. A male hero is called El Grande. A female hero is called Ella Mucho.

Tentacll: The Octupus Kwami. He is wise and smart. His miraculous is the Octopus Gauntlets. The weapon are eight suction cup whips. The ability is Suction, which helps the user climb. A male hero is called Eight Arms. A female hero is called Octi.

Camma: The chameleon Kwami. Shy, naive, and innocent, she is easily tricked. Her Miraculous is the Chameleon Hat. The weapon is a mace. The ability is Blend In, which allows the user to appear as someone else. A male hero is called Look-A-Like. A female hero is called Karmeleon.

Webb: The Spider Kwami. She is elegant, ladylike, and patient. Her miraculous is the Spider Violin. The weapon is a net. The ability is Spider's Net, where the user plays a soothing song to lure the enemy near. A male hero is called Tarantula. A female hero is called Musical Web.

Grimm: the Death Kwami. Believe it or not, she's very lively and lives anything living, like plants and animals, and is scared of ghosts, zombies, skeletons, etc. Her miraculous is the Death Mask. The weapon is a scythe. The ability is Swipe of Death, which kills the enemy's ability to use their power for 10 minutes. A male hero is called Grim Creeper. A female hero is called Death Scythe.

Tussk: the Elephant Kwami. She is serious and holds grudges, due to her great memory. Her miraculous is the Elephant Lip Piercing. The weapon is the Elephant Lance. The ability is Memorize, which enhances the users memory for a short time period. A male hero is called Memoro. A female hero is called Peanut.

Puunk: The Life Kwami. She is the exact opposite of Grimm, being brave and loud. Her miraculous is the Life Goggles. The weapon is a wrench. The ability is Birth, with brings plants or machines to life. A male holder is called Life Punk. A female holder is called Steam Punk.

Borgg: The Giraffe Kwami. A lover of writing and music, he is usually found in a music shop when not with his holder. His miraculous is the Giraffe Neckband. The weapon is the Giraffe Stick(it's actually very strong).The ability is Growth, which makes the holder taller. A male hero is called Great Height. A female hero is called Madame Height.

Blaackk: The Knight Kwami. Mute, quiet, and serious, many of her holders feared her. Her miraculous is the Knight's Helmet. The Weapon is a Sword and Shield. The Ability is Knight, which turns a nearby citizen into a knight to help. A male hero is called Sir Miraculous. A female hero is called The Black Knight.

Headzz: The Hydra Kwami. She seems to have DID and seems to give it to holders only when used. Her miraculous is the Hydra Necklace. The weapons are five different railguns. The ability is Persona-Change, which changes the users personality to fit the situations. A male used is called 5-mind. A female user is called Dupli-Brain.

Hoowl: The Wolf Kwami. She's a huge fan of Plagg's, looking up to him and trying to copy him, despite being higher up than him. Her miraculous is a ring, like Plagg's. The weapon is also a staff. Her ability is Bone Structure, which rebuilds things, unlike Cataclysm. A male hero is called Chien Noir. A female hero is called Wooflette.

Seconnd, Minuute, and Hourr: The Clockwork Kwamis. Each of these there kwami sisters resemble a clock hand. Their miraculouses are the Clockwork Hand Barrettes. The weapon is a sword in the shape of a clock hand. their abilit is Past(Seconnd), Present(Minuute), and Future(Hourr). Male and Female heroes are called Past, Present, and Future.

Fissh: The Penguin Kwami. He is elegant and smart. His miraculous is the Penguin Bowtie. The weapon is a fish shaped club. The ability is Freeze. A male hero is called Monsieur Poisson. A female hero is called Femme de Glace.

Seeed: The Hamster Kwami. She is naive, sweet, and innocent. Her miraculous is the Hamster Backpack. The weapon are a wide array of weapons in the backpack. The ability is Copy Ham, which duplicates the user so they can use more than one weapon. A male hero is called Hammy. A female hero is called Fille de Graine.

Goro. She is the Gorilla Kwami of Healing. Her miraculous is a pair of bongos, which are also the weapons. The special ability is Bongo Repair, which heals teamates. When Goro enters disguise mode(which makes her look like a normal gorilla who can talk and fight.), she is called Dr. Ape. Her phrase is a certain tune played on the bongos. She can't run out of time. She also serves as the guide for the team when they struggle with a legendary miraculous.

Ventosa: The Chupacabra Kwami. She is sassy, gay, fabulous, and silly. Her miraculous is the Chupacabra Band-Aid. The weapon is a blowgun with different darts. The ability is Feral. A male hero is called Senor Tonto. A female hero is called Senorita Mysterio.

Peass: The Dove Kwami. She is peaceful, calm, and gentle. Her miraculous is the Dove Olive Branch Hair Piece. The weapon is the wand. The ability is Pacify, which briefly calms the enemy. A male hero is called Peacify. A female hero is called Aile Blanche.

Stiing: The Jellyfish Kwami. He is very fashionable and beauty crazy. His miraculous is the Jellyfish vest. The weapon is a fishing for. The ability is Sting, which is similar to Venom, but controls the victim instead. A male hero is called Piquer Garcon. A female hero is called Paralyser.

Stoone: The Cobra Kwami. She is shy, quiet, and odd. Her miraculous is the Medusa Amulet. The weapon is a phalanx. The ability is Stone Gaze. A male hero is called Petrino Agori. A female hero is called Medousa.

Coopy: the Cheshire Cat Kwami. She is mysterious, odd, and a bit creepy. Her miraculous is the Cheshire Wrist Watch. The weapon is the watch(until it scans the enemy). The ability is Copy Cat, which can grant the user the enemy's ability when the watch scans them. A male hero is called Copier. A female hero is called Cheshire.

Astral-Blue: The Astral Blue Panther Kwami. She is funny, dim-witted, and naive. Her miraculous is the Astral Blue Compass. Her weapon is the Astral Blue Lance. The ability is Astral Blue Form, which makes the user intangable for 5 minutes. A male hero is called Blue Soldier. A female hero is called Astral Blue.

Astral-Red: the Astral Red Panther kwami. She is serious, smart, and hot-headed. Her miraculous is the Astral Red Compass. Her weapon is the Astral Red Sword. The ability is Astral Red Form. A male hero is called Red Soldier. A female hero is called Astral Red.

Astral-Green: the Astral Green Panther Kwami. She is smart, kind, innocent, and cunning. Her miraculous is the Astral Green Compass. Her weapon is the Astral Green Grappling Hook. The ability is Astral Green Form. A male hero is called Green Soldier. A female hero is called Astral-Green.

Astral-Yellow: the Astral Yellow Panther Kwami. She is gluttonous, loving, and protective. Her miraculous is the Astral Yellow Compass. Her weapon is the Astral Yellow Shield. The ability is Astral Yellow Form. A male hero is called Yellow Soldier. A female hero is called Astral Yellow.

Astral-Black: the Astral Black Panther Kwami. She is motherly, generous, leading, and wise. Her miraculous is the Astral Black Compass. Her weapon is the Astral Black Gun. The ability is Astral Black Form. A male hero is called Black Soldier. A female hero is called Astral Black.

Fallo: the Falcon Kwami. She at first seems calm and collected, with a passion for classical music, but as soon as she's angered, she reveals that she is really an irrational and hot-headed metal-punk. Her miraculous is the Falcon Guitar Pick. Her weapon transitions between a violin(which prevents akuma effects) and an electric guitar(which turns akumas against their partners). The ability is Musical Transition, which transitions the weapon between its two forms. A male hero is called Punk Falcon. A female hero is called Classical Punk.

Chime: the Chimera Kwami. A gambler, she loves to gamble her own miraculous and other miraculouses in battle. Her miraculous is the Chimera Dice. Her weapon are three different dices. The ability is gamble, which allows the user or a partner to choose an enemy's ability to gamble and inherit if the user or partner wins. A male hero is called Triple Dice. A female hero is called Gamblemera.

Tricera: the Triceratops Kwami. She is very hot tempered and always has a scowl. Her miraculous is a belt buckle. Het weapon is a spiked shield. The ability is overcharge, which over charges an ability so it can be used for 10 minutes. A male hero is called Sheild Master. A female hero is called Tricerena.

Magicca: the Magician Kwami. She is a magic loving prankster who always smiles. Her miraculous is a top hat. Her weapon is a magic wand. The ability is Kadabara, which performs a magic trick against the enemy. A male hero is called The Great Magico. A female hero is called The Amazing Magica.

And the phrases:

1.: Bonezz, Let's Rattle! & Bonezz, Settle Down. (Bone Face) (Luka)

2.: Juuk, Sing Out! & Juuk, Sing Low. (Pitch) (Rose)

3.: Wishh, Grant Me Power! & Wishh, Grant Me Freedom.(Wish Mistress) (Rose)

4.: Bakuu, Drean On! & Bakuu, Wake Up.(Drowzee-Hypno) (Alya)

5.: Icee, Cool Up! & Icee, Cool Down.(Frosty) (Adrien)

6.: Finite, Blaze On! & Fiire, Blaze Off.(Heat) (Marinette)

7.: Ursa Major, Growl On! & Ursa Major, Growl Off.(Mama Bear) (Sabrina)

8.: Ursa Minor, Growl Loud! & Ursa Minor, Growl Soft.(Baby Bear) (Chloe)

9.: UFK, Blast Off! & UFK, Landing On.(UFO-Man) (Max)

10.: Shrimpee, Butter On! & Shrimpee, Melt The Butter.(Big Shrimp) (Nathaniel)

11.: Seven Seas, Hoist the Sails! & Seven Seas, Lay Anchor.(Captain Seven Seas) (Anarka)

12.: Ninjjii, Into Darkness! & Ninjjii, Into Light.(Shadow) (Kagami)

13.: Eyezz, Let Me See! & Eyezz, Blind Me.(Dark Owl) (Max)

14.: Hallo, Spook On! & Hallo, Spook Off.(Pumpking) (Kim)

15.: Petaal, Let's Bloom! & Petaal, Let's Wilt.(Flower Man) (Nino)

16.: Spectre, Time for Science! & Spectre, Time for Rest.(Chemistry Lass) (Rose)

17.: Hopp, Jump Up! & Hopp, Jump Down.(Hypno-Frog) (Kim)

18.: Tricera, Horns Out! & Tricera, Horns In.(Tricera-Girl) (Mylene)

19.: Leona, Fangs Out! & Leona, Fangs In.(King Lion) (Kim)

20.: Faang, Suck Blood! & Faang, Stop Sucking.(Baroness Blood) (Juleka)

21.: Finn, Let's Dive! & Finn, Let's Resurface.(Depths) (Alix)

22.: Nevermore, Rap Away! & Nevermore, Fly Away.(Mirrora) (Juleka)

23.: Rexx, Smash it! & Rexx, End It.(T-Wrecker) (Ivan)

24.: Roboo, Activate! & Roboo, Shut Down.(Reboot) (Max)

25.: Imp, Raise Some He'll! & Imp, Free the Damned.(Sucubus) (Alya)

26.: Halo, Up To Heaven! & Halo, Down To Earth.(Raphael) (Nino)

27.: Midnight, Full Phase! & Midnight, New Phase.(The Wolf) (Rose)

28.: Midday, Let's Rise! & Midday, Let's Set.(Flying Phoenix) (Juleka)

29.: Mummee, Mummify Me! & Mummee, Unwrap Me.(Pharoahpatra) (Alix)

30.: Gemini, Let's Split! & Gemini, Back Together.(X4) (Rose)

31.: Bamboo, Let's Cuddle! & Bamboo, Let's Stop Cuddling.(Monsier Spot) (Tom(past))

32.: Quickling, Quills Out! & Quickling, Quills in.(Speedburst) (Nino)

33.: Bullhoorn, Charge In! & Bullhoorn, Charge Out. (El Grande) (Ivan)

34.: Tentacll, Arms Up! & Tentacll, Arms Down. (Octi) (Mdme. Bustier(past))

35.: Camma, Camoflouge! & Camma, Reveal. (Karmeleon) (Sabrina)

36.: Webb, Weave! & Webb, Sleep. (Tarantuala) (Max)

37.: Grimm, Let's Reap! & Grimm, Let's Mourn. (Death Scythe) (Juleka)

38.: Tussk, Memorize! & Tussk, Forget? (Peanut) (Rose)

39.: Puunk, Spring to Life! & Puunk, Fall Away. (Steam Punk) (Alix)

40.: Borgg, Get Big! & Borgg, Get Short. (Great Height)(Adrien)

41.: Blaackk: Draw your sword! & Blaackk, sheathe the sword.(The Black Knight)(Rose)

42.: Headzz, Split Me! & Headzz, Rejoin Me.(Dupli-Brain)(Juleka)

43.: Hoowl, Claws Out! & Hoowl, Claws In.(Chien Noir)(Nathaniel)

44.: Sisters, Start Ticking! & Sisters, Stop Tocking.(Past, Present, Future)(Marinette, Alya, and Chloe)

45. Goro plays a special tune on the bongos.(Goro/Dr.Ape)

46. Fissh, Let's Skate! & Fissh, Finale! (Monsieur Poisson)(Marc)

47. Seeed, Stuff Me! & Seeed, Unstuff.(Fille De Graine)(Rose)

48. Ventosa, Suck Some Blood! & Ventosa, Stop.(Senorita Mysterio)(Alix)

49. Peass, Let's Pacify! & Peass, Calm Down.(Aile Blanche)(Sabrina)

50. Stiing, Let's Sting! & Stiing, Let's Sink.(Piquer Garcon)(Ivan)

51. Stoone, Let's Gaze! & Stoone, Let's Go Blind.(Medousa)(Alya)

52. Coopy, Fade In! & Coopy, Fade Out.(Cheshire)(Juleka)

53. Astral-Blue, Transform! & Astral-Blue, Detransform.(Astral Blue)(Chloe)

54. Astral-Red, Transform! & Astral-Red, Detransform.(Red Soldier)(Nino)

55. Astral-Yellow, Transform! & Astral-Yellow, Detransform.(Astral Yellow)(Alya)

56. Astral-Green, Transform! & Astral-Green, Detransform.(Green Soldier)(Adrien)

57. Astral-Black, Transform! & Astral-Black, Detransform.(Astral Black)(Marinette)

58. Fallo, It's Time To Take Flight! & Fallo, Let's Make A Landing.(Classical Punk)(Rose)

59. Chime, Let's Gamble! & Chime, Tap Out.(Gamblemera) (Mylene)

60. Tricera, Sheild Me! & Tricera, Release Me.(Tricerena) (Mendeliev(past))

61. Magica, Time for a Show! & Magica, Show's Over.(The Amazing Magica) (Sabine(past))

[rosalind-25]

Hi again

Lovely to see this happen each year! Here’s my contribution, a short pre-series fic.

The Maid and the Falcon

Relentless drizzle, seeping beneath his cape, soured Guy’s mood a notch further with each mile that passed. It was, he supposed, an improvement on the week before, when snow and black ice had caused the falconer’s horse to slip. The man had been laid up, his leg broken, waiting to send for help. He was fortunate, Guy knew, to have a relative within a day’s ride; Vaisey would have refused his expenses. Guy had continued, transporting the sheriff’s valued cargo back to Nottingham.

The bamboo cage bumped awkwardly against the horse’s flank, in time with its slow gait. Guy glanced down, could see only sodden tail feathers peeking out from beneath the cage’s cover. He quelled a flash of pity, reckoning the bird probably fared better than he did at that precise moment. But then he recalled the falcon’s stitched eyelids, and resolutely turned his thoughts away.

As drizzle became downpour, the rising wind clutched indiscriminately at hair, mane, cape, branches; head bowed, Guy hunkered down against it as they plodded forward, only his bitter thoughts and the temporarily blind falcon for company. Nursemaid to a bird. How far I’ve come. Chained, as always, by his lord’s whims.

This latest had been brought about by the debacle a year earlier. Not content with his goshawk – perfect for forest terrain – the sheriff had craved a long-winged falcon. A gift for the prince of course, dear boy. I’ll just borrow it for a while. He’d sent his falconer to Valkenswaard, there to haggle at the autumn market, amongst other lords’ representatives, for one of those prized birds. The project had ended in disaster; the bird hadn’t survived the return from the continent. The falconer had been foolish enough to try and pass off an inferior specimen; Vaisey had thought it fitting punishment to cage the man on the castle battlements and paste his eyes with honey.

This time, Vaisey had tried something different. He’d sent a man to Ramsey Island, off the coast of Wales, there to trap a young falcon. But, being late in the season, it had taken weeks; since then, the bird had been manned, but it’s training to fly and hunt postponed. Vaisey had wanted the bird’s eyes sealed until he took possession; he liked to tweak the silken thread attached to the stitches.

Guy had been sent to meet the pair, and to escort them safely home. With the Christmas hunt little more than a fortnight away, to which many local nobles had been invited, there could be no more delays.

And yet. The road had become a quagmire. Guy halted his mount, casting about for a landmark. He realised that with such poor visibility he must have taken a wrong turn. It couldn’t be too far to Nottingham, but this cursed road seemed wholly unfamiliar.

Everywhere branches flailed; wind funnelled debris through gaps in the trees, pelting him and his mount with twigs. As he looked around, Guy heard a loud crack. A branch, splitting from the trunk; it crashed down mere paces away. It spooked his horse, and Guy barely had the animal calmed when he saw that the cover had been knocked from the cage. The bird was threshing about, drenched and distressed. Cursing, his own cape dislodged by now, Guy was struggling to re-cover the cage when a figure appeared, speaking quietly and calmly to the falcon, securing the other end of the cover which was flapping violently, its edges tugged by the wind.

When it was done, the young woman leaned in and spoke, placing a hand on his arm.

“This way,” she said loudly, pointing. “Follow me.”

​​​---------------------------------------------------------------------

“My lord Gisborne. Come in.” The maid’s father, his mouth set in a terse line.

“No, I think not.” Guy stood on the threshold beneath the drip-line from the thatch and saw that preparations were underway for a modest feast. “This bird needs quiet. But I’ll need a change of clothes, and a blanket for my horse.”

He had the girl show him to the village barn. It was draughty and cold but preferable to the stilted welcome in the cottage. He’d rubbed down and covered his horse, changed his clothes and made a small fire. Guy sat staring into it now, chewing on pieces of dried apple and listening to the wind thrash outside. It made him slow to register the sound of a knock. He rose and lifted the bar, admitting the maid who now bore a tray with two covered bowls and assorted nuts and fruit. She placed it near the fire, then went to collect firewood from outside the door.

“Fancy fare for common folk,” he remarked round a mouthful of beef and bacon stew, as she knelt by the fire.

He felt it poor return to ask outright how the household came by its meat, but she was no fool.

“Sir William gives us our Christmas fare early. He knows I work at the castle, and that I won’t be here for Christmas.”

“You work at the castle?” Guy quirked an eyebrow, vaguely interested. “Where?”

“In the kitchens.”

He was about to ask her name when he was diverted by the attention she now fixed on the bird.

“You should have him out, you know,” she said. “Have him on your wrist, or your shoulder. They need to become accustomed to people.”

“What would you know about it?” he sneered.

“Quite a lot, actually. My uncle is a trained falconer, I grew up with tales of birds and hearing about his techniques.”

Guy watched as she rose and walked to the cage, his mouth too full to protest as she undid the latch and lifted out the bird.

“Barbaric,” he heard her mutter. Then, to him:

“Why are his eyes still sealed? Surely, he’s ready to be trained.”

“Yes,” Guy muttered. Truth be told, he was as discomfited as she was by the cruel practice. “Vaisey insisted.”

“He is…..” the maid paused, tilting her head, a thoughtful look on her face. “Your master is….not a kind man.”

Guy spluttered on the home-brewed ale. When he recovered, he saw the girl smiling slightly; he smirked a little in return.

“No. That’s not how I would describe him either.”

Wearing a conspiratorial expression, she perched near him, bearing the raptor on her wrist with an air of calm assurance.

“There is another way, you know. If you were to help me, we could….”

“No.” Blunt, uncompromising. “Vaisey wants them sealed.”

The girl’s expression remained soft, undaunted by his dismissal. He assumed she was waiting so she could take the tray away. He ate the last mouthfuls of stew, mopping up the juices with a hunk of rye bread. The maid, her fine-spun hair gathered in a loose plait, and a gentle innocence about her features, was silent and pensive.

But when she looked over at him, he saw there was a hint of determination beneath her softness.

“You are not naturally a cruel man, Sir Guy. I see that. I know what you do for the sheriff but you do it for his sake, not for having any pleasure of it.” He began to snap a retort, affronted at her plain speaking, but the girl so surprised him by again laying a hand on his arm that he let her finish. “I see that this troubles you, so let me fix it. With your permission, my father and I can open the bird’s eyes and yet give Lord Vaisey a sop, let him think that he’s discovered something no one else has.”

Guy frowned.

“Go on,” he allowed, against his better judgement.

The maid glanced away, suddenly appearing uncertain. Instead of offering an explanation, she turned back to him with a question.

“Why are you travelling with this bird? Has the sheriff lost another falconer?”

“Temporarily. He broke a leg falling from his horse.”

“Ahh,” she sighed. “Well, I may tell you. I didn’t want the risk of any more of my kin being asked to work for Lord Vaisey.”

Guy growled a caution. “You speak too freely.”

“Perhaps. But listen….there’s another way to keep a bird of prey calm. Word reached my uncle when his lord’s son returned from Crusade. It’s a method the Saracens use.” The girl rose. “I’ll show you, I have one in the cottage. We were discussing it last time we saw my uncle and have been experimenting since.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll show you,” she repeated, slipping out of the barn.

When the maid returned, it was with her father in tow. She showed Guy a small hood which she explained was designed to fit over the bird’s head.

He watched, then, as she placed drops of something which discoloured the water into the bird’s shallow bowl.

“By this evening he should be calm enough. My father will remove the stitches, he has a steady hand.”

The pair returned at nightfall, bearing additional lanterns.

“You stay out of sight; you don’t want the bird to associate you with this,” instructed the father, so focussed on the task at hand that he temporarily forgot whom he was addressing.

Bemused, Guy moved to the back of the barn, allowing them to tend the falcon. He couldn’t see what they were doing, but more than once he heard a high, thin screech of protest. Finally, he was called forward, and saw that the hooded raptor was now sitting calmly on a makeshift perch.

“Right, if Sir Guy has no more need of our help…..”

“I’ll stay awhile,” the young woman said, glancing back at Guy.

“No, go. Have your celebration,” he said gruffly, weary now of company and wishing only for sleep.

But there was none to be had. The falcon’s early calm wore off. The hood was loose-fitting; the bird scraped at it with its talons and tore it off. After the rigours of the day, the creature was stressed; it bated, flapping its wings as it hung tethered to the perch. Each time Guy managed to replace the hood, but after the third such episode he was ready to wring its wretched neck.

He was relieved when, a short while later, the maid returned to check on them. Once she saw the problem, she took the hood away to adjust. When she returned, together they secured it over the falcon’s head.

“Let’s get the damn thing back in the cage.” Guy’s store of patience had long since evaporated.

“Soon. Let’s feed her first.”

Guy rummaged for the remains of a hare he’d snared early that morning, and they fed these to the now-sedate falcon. Then came the process of settling the bird back in its cage. By the time this was done, the fire needed tending; his companion helped with this too. Her presence was quiet, undemanding; her smile sweet.

Her father came eventually to the door.

“Annie, time to come inside lass,” he said, still stubbornly protective, although his tone had mellowed somewhat towards Guy.

Once they’d gone Guy bedded down in the straw. He found himself thinking, amongst other things, of the scent of rain in the girl’s hair, and of the way her lashes, wet from that same rain, had slanted down upon her cheek.

Annie. Perhaps she could be of help in the weeks to come. Guy had no doubt that, in the falconer’s absence, the onerous task of readying the bird to hunt would fall to him.

​​​----------------------------------------------------------------------

Guy waved the flagon-bearer away and gazed with jaded eye around the hall. Trenchers were full of half-eaten fare. Servants were beginning to clear space for presentation of the boar’s head, bearing away the various pies, pastries, stews and sauced meats which had cluttered the long tables. He would stay until then, Guy decided, before returning to all the tasks which had been set aside for the day’s festivities.

Mopping up the last of a dark, wine-currant sauce, Guy watched as the showpiece was paraded in. Accompanied by musicians and a capering jester it was borne about the hall on its bed of apples and cherry sprigs, with cherries for eyes and a fanciful forelock of grapes. Applause rippled around the tables; from snout to ear-tip, the flesh was crisped and brown and gave off an aroma that made mouths water. Guy hid a sneer; gluttony was never his vice. As the master cook preened beneath Vaisey��s rare praise, and as servants bore in fresh accompanying dishes and his neighbour exclaimed over the fine tastes awaiting them, Guy muttered some unintelligible reply, pushed back his chair, and left the feast.

The day thus far had been tolerable. Although Christmas was never anything special, Vaisey in a benign mood was always preferable to whining or the mercurial malice which a day that hadn’t gone according to plan could produce.

The morning’s hunt, for one thing, had been successful; the new falcon had performed well. Guy knew Annie was largely to thank. The falconer had returned only three days earlier. As he’d suspected, this had left Guy with the bulk of the bird’s training. In doing so, he’d more than once sought out Annie; drawing on snippets of her uncle’s wisdom, she’d always been willing to help.

There were more important things to be done - he was on his way to check how much the quarter tax had brought in (Vaisey had to pay, somehow, for his entertainments) – but Guy found himself thinking of the mews. Perhaps he would check on the bird later. Then he remembered that he had to pay an evening visit to….

….what was that?

A small sound; a clatter, something dislodged.

Guy paused. He was near the sheriff’s chambers, and it occurred to him that for anyone with ill intent this was the perfect time to gain entry. Whoever it was would have heard him pass; stealth hadn’t been on his mind. It was now; he unbuckled his spurs, set them aside and walked back, silently pushing the door open.

Vaisey would have spotted the culprit in an instant; after, that is, he’d registered the open door of one of the bird cages, its inhabitants fluttering past to escape into the corridor. He’d interrupted a similar operation on another cage; Guy strode forward and flung aside the dressing screen.

“You!” he exclaimed, grabbing the culprit’s wrist and hauling her to her feet.

Annie lost her balance, clutching at him for support. He glanced down, noting with a smirk where her grip had landed. Annie snatched her hand away from his thigh, her cheeks blooming with colour.

“What are you doing?” he snapped, steadying the maid on her feet. “Have you lost your mind?”

“They were talking about these poor birds a few days ago, in the kitchens. I decided then, it being Christmas, that it would be the perfect time to do something about it.” She spoke boldly; Guy admired her lack of repentance.

“Annie,” he said harshly, “there is never a perfect time to defy the sheriff….”

“…I don’t see why….”

Guy cut her off.

“What did you think would happen, when he finds them missing?” he asked, shaking his head, touching her chin with a gloved fingertip. “He will hunt for the culprit. And if he can’t discover who it was, he won’t care, he’ll punish someone anyway…probably his squire. Did you think of that? Would you want that?”

Annie dropped her gaze. He had to bend down slightly to catch her next words.

“I hate it. I hate what he does to them. What he does to all of us.”

Guy let the last comment pass. For the first part, he had some answer.

“You realise he will just go out and replace them? That he’ll find some other creatures to make miserable?”

“Yes.” Annie lifted her head, some of her defiance returning. “But at least I will have done – have done – something.”

Guy gazed at her a moment, pitying the futility behind her brave words. He knew that futility right down to his bones; had supped on its bitterness, in moments of quiet despair. There were times – oh yes, there were times – when he wanted to do the same. But always, he must hold. Always there were shackles, his own ambition and his desire for revenge the clasps with which Vaisey had snapped them shut.

There was no escape; Annie was right about that. And yet…they had unsealed the falcon’s eyes and got away with it. Could they do it again?

They were both silent, the frantic noise of the birds who’d seen their fellows fly free chattering in the background. Guy thought hard; he came to a decision.

“I’ll take care of it. But you must leave, now.”

“No! You’re not to take the blame for this,” she protested, as he walked across to the empty cage.

“Be quiet, woman.”

Guy knocked the stand down on which it stood and kicked at the clasp with his heel.

“What are you doing?” Annie demanded, grasping his arm.

He glanced down, wondering the same thing. But he had a plan; he (mostly) had it all worked out.

“I’ll tell the sheriff that cook planned a surprise, a version of lark pie using Vaisey’s own birds. That I surprised the lad he sent in the act, and in the scuffle his birds escaped.”

Would such a ruse succeed? Guy thought so. A bribe to the cook to go along with it, if questioned, though he doubted Vaisey would punish attempted flattery - no matter how misguided. I’ve punished the lad, my Lord; you’ve no need to worry. Would he get away with it? Without doubt, it was a risk.

Annie still held both his arm and his gaze. The gratitude in her eyes warmed him, as did her smile. Oddly, it reminded him a little of how Christmas had once made him feel, a very long time ago.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Guy raised a hand and stroked her cheek.

“We’d better not make a habit of this,” he chided. “There’s only so much we can get away with.”

A pause, then; a thought. Another decision.

“But there may be other ways in which he doesn’t need to own us.”

He lowered his face to hers; his lips grazed her forehead, and her cheek. Her lips. Then, abruptly, he withdrew.

“It’s time to leave,” he repeated.

Guy stalked out of Vaisey’s room and reattached his spurs; Annie watched, her gaze perplexed. She watched him rise and walk away.

At the end of the corridor, however, Guy turned back.

“Well?” he challenged, his voice a deep lure. “Are you coming?”

​​​-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Annie watched him walk away, leaving her in a welter of confusion.

“Well? Are you coming?”

She had seconds to decide, she knew. An offer that wouldn’t be repeated. Annie thought of that moment when she’d lost her balance and knew very well what thought had been on both their minds.

He turned, disappearing around the corner.

He’s the sheriff’s lieutenant, and what am I? A mere kitchen maid.

But Annie knew she had a penchant for wild things; she knew this about herself. Creatures proud and fierce, untameable, ones that came into your life for a time and didn’t necessarily stay there.

And yet, while they were there……ah yes, while they were there…..

Annie also knew how precious their trust, once it was gained.

She stepped out of the sheriff’s chambers and followed Guy of Gisborne, her heart and nerves a-flutter, just like the wings of those desperate, captive birds which they had just set free into a Christmas twilight.

[kingrii07]

Magic Chapter 4

Part 3 here 

During the span of seven years, Izuku kept practicing his magic stamina so he can battle along with his Spirits in longer time. A week before, Izuku can call one gold Spirit at a time but his limit when battling is two gold keys.

“Izuku-sama, you’re doing great. Release more of your magic.” Capricorn said as he watches Izuku, his owner, meditate.

Izuku released more of his magical powers, exceeding the level of his previous release, causing the wind to blow stronger around him. Capricorn smiled in amazement at the sight.

After a couple of minutes, Izuku stopped releasing his magic and laid on the grassy ground to catch his breath. “You did well, Izuku-sama.” Capricorn said. While panting, Izuku looked at Capricorn with tired eyes. “D-do you t-think, I c-can now open two k-keys simultaneously?” The green haired teen asked while catching his breath.

“Based on what I have observed for the past week and by feeling your magical powers, yes, Izuku-sama. You will be able to open two gold keys at the same time.” Capricorn said. “But, it would be better if you continue this kind of training. As your Spirits, we knew when you are excited, you always pull unbelievable stunts that really makes us worry.” Capricorn continued.

Izuku chuckled at his Spirit and also his friend. “Well, sorry about that.” Izuku replied while slowly standing up.

“Before I go back, Izuku-sama” Capricorn said getting Izuku’s full attention.

“There is a spell for Celestial Mages that can give them access to our, the Zodiacs, power. The problem is it requires great magic to be able to perform and use it. That spell is called Star Dress. The Celestial mage can also use that spell to fight with his or her Spirit.” Capricorn said.

Izuku’s eyes widened at what the other had said. “Do you think I can do that spell?”

When Izuku asked that, silence surrounded them for a couple of seconds before Capricorn responded with a reassuring smile. “Yes you can Izuku-sama.” After saying that, Capricorn returned to the Celestial Spirit world.

Izuku took the key holder that consists his Spirit keys from his belt and looked at it with determination. He clutched it and placed it close to his heart. “Let’s do our best, everyone” Izuku said in determination.

Izuku is currently walking towards the middle of the woods to meet someone when he started reminiscing his contracts with his Spirits. Izuku definitely will not forget those memories because it was the reason he is able to continue to pursue his dream. His dream to become a hero.

Gemini was the second spirit Izuku had summoned. It was two days after his sixth birthday, Izuku called Gemini out of excitement, thinking that his two-day worth of magic practice is enough. When Gemini came out Izuku felt the same sudden drop of his magical power, but because of his excitement to meet a new Spirit, Izuku immediately forgot his magical powers and beamed at the sight of his soon to be friends.

“Hello! I am Izuku.” Izuku said with wide smile and sparkling eyes at the two small Spirits floating in front of him.

“I am Gemi” said by who wearing an orange short.

“And I am Mini” followed by the other who is wearing black short.

“Loke-san said that we need to have contract, but I only want to be friends.” Izuku said to the two.

When Leo returned to the Celestial Spirit world from being called at the human world for the second time, they were oriented about Izuku’s characteristics and attitude so they were already expecting that the child will avoid getting in contract with them, but to be friends.

For Gemi and Mini, even though they already knew what their new owner will say, it is still unbelievable to hear that kind of words from a child.

And also, Loke and the Spirit King made a decision. If Izuku kept on refusing to be in contract, but to be friends, then they must accept it as a form of contract.

“Then, let’s be friends, Izuku-chan” The two said in unison.

Izuku giggled in happiness and hugged the two floating spirits and let go after a few seconds.

The third spirit Izuku summoned the very same day, five hours after Izuku made contract with Gemini, is Virgo and this contact is really mysterious until now to Izuku.

He was excited and cannot wait two more days to meet his soon to be new friends that’s why he summoned another gold key, which is the key of the Maiden, Virgo.

Virgo is happy and worried at the same time when he appeared in Izuku’s room when she got summoned by her new owner. Virgo can see the fatigue in Izuku’s eyes, but this precious child is doing his best to look that he is alright and not tired. “Hello! I’m Izuku! Can we be friends and  can I call you Virgo-san?” Izuku said.

Izuku got amazed by Virgo’s clothes and he didn’t notice that he’s looking at her with sparkling eyes, despite the fatigue he is feeling.

“Yes, you can call me that, Master.” Virgo replied. When Izuku heard what Virgo had called him, Izuku took a loud gasped and puffed his cheeks in dismay. When Virgo saw that, she suddenly had the urge to pinch the cute child’s cheeks, but she controlled herself from doing it.

“That’s not my name! Don’t call me master because you’re not my servant nor by anyone.” Izuku said with a frown on his face.

Virgo stared in shock, just like the previous Spirits, at the supposed to be angry child who didn’t look angry because of his puffed cheeks that makes him cute.

“All right, I’ll call you by your name.” Virgo replied and this time she is smiling at the child. Satisfied with the answer, Izuku let out a bright smile.

Virgo noticed that Izuku’s bright smile is disappearing and saw the child’s eyes closing and his body started to sway, Virgo dropped to her knees and caught the child’s body before he collapses on the ground. Virgo felt that the child’s clothes were damped, maybe because of sweat. She laid Izuku on his bed and returned to the Spirit world to get clothes for the child.

Later that night, Izuku was woken up by her mother who is looking at him with weird face.

“Izuku, where did you get these clothes you are wearing?” Inko asked as she pointed at the clothes Izuku is wearing. When Izuku looked at his clothes, his eyes sparkled because he looks like he is wearing a super hero costume because of the royal blue vest, orange inner shirt, and black cape with gold lining.

“I don’t know, mom” Izuku replied and didn’t even bother to ask where it came from because he started to play around the house and jumping everywhere like a super hero.

A few days later after his contract with Gemini and Virgo, Izuku summoned Scorpio when he felt he is already okay.

“We are!” Scorpio greeted when he appeared in front of Izuku. Meanwhile, Izuku’s jaw dropped at the Spirit in front of him because of the large tail? Behind him.

Scorpio was worried at the gaping child in front of him so he kneeled down and asked Izuku in worry. “Hey, are you alright?” Izuku snapped from his trance and his expression changed from shock, to amazement. “Awesome! You really looked like a scorpion!” Izuku exclaimed in amazement.

Scorpio chuckled at the child’s amazement. After all the stories from the other spirits of how cheerful this child is, he didn’t thought that Izuku’s cheerfulness is contagious. “Oh! I forgot!” Izuku’s said gaining Scorpio’s full attention to him. “I am Midoriya Izuku. Can we be friends?” Izuku continued with beaming smile.

Scorpio gave a cool smile towards the child. “Of course, Izuku! Call me Scorpio.”

Izuku’s gaze returned to Scorpio’s tail. “Scorpio-san, Scorpio-san” Izuku called the Spirit and grabbed the other’s hand and looked at him with sparkling eyes.”Can I touch your tail?” Izuku asked. Scorpio nodded at little Izuku and the child smile more brightly and excitedly touched Scopios tail.

While the child is busy with touch his tail, Scorpio said something which is loud enough for Izuku to hear.

“Aquarius would be happy if you became her owner.” Izuku stopped touching Scorpio’s tail and went to face the man. “Izuku, can I tell you something?” The Spirit asked. Izuku nodded and looked at the Spirit in curious because he felt that Scorpio will tell something very important.

“Aquarius is my girlfriend and long ago, her key was broken.” Scorpio started. Izuku’s eyes widened.”Eh! Then, Aquarius-san will not come out!?” Izuku asked in worry. Scorpio felt Izuku’s worry for Aquarius and that made him smile. “No, Izuku, Aquarius can still come out.The reason why her key was broken was because our dear friend, Lucy, needs someone who is stronger than us to fight for evil mages and that is the Spirit King. Spirit King has no key but to be able to call him, you need to destroy one of gold keys. Our dear friend was forced to destroy Aquarius’ key.” Scorpio continued and Izuku got shaken by what the he said. The look on Izuku’s face was made Scorpio guilty, but he needed to tell this to Izuku.

“Her key was recreated, but her key was never found. We don’t know where it is right now and I hope you will be able to find it. I am sure my girlfriend will be happy to be friends with you.” Scorpio said. Izuku took a deep breath and looked at Scorpio in determined. “I promise to look for Aquaruis-san’s key and all of the Spirit keys out there!”

Scorpio gave a relieved smile at little Izuku and gave him a pat. “Good luck.” He said and disappeared.

Izuku is still holding onto his promise with Scorpio and didn’t stop on looking for the other Spirit’s keys and he even asked his father to look for it and even though they haven’t found any keys, Izuku never lose his hope.

When Izuku saw his destination, a small nippa hut in the middle of the woods, he ran and knocked on the bamboo door. “Marga-san! Open the door!” Izuku shouted and after a few seconds the bamboo door opened revealing a middle aged woman with black and streaks of white hair. Her tall body is wrapped in black cloak and her inner clothes is a moss green frilly dress. Her left hand is holding a wooden staff which is the same height as her.

“What are you doing here, Izuku-kun?” She asked the teen confused. Izuku chuckled at her question. “Marga-san, today is training day, did you forgot? You’re really getting old.”

Marga frowned at the teen and hit Izuku on his shoulder. “How many time did I tell you to respect your teacher? I’m not getting old, you little fool. I was busy with something!” She said in defensive manner.

Izuku only chuckled at her. “Get inside, you have a patient inside.” Marga said with strict face and Izuku followed her with a smile.

When Izuku entered the nipa hut, he saw a bleeding fawn on the table. “What happened?” Izuku asked in worry as he scrambled towards the fawn. Marga followed him and watched her student place his hands over the wound of the fawn. Izuku’s hands started to give a bright white and warm glow and the wound of the fawn started to heal, but slowly.

“Got bitten by an alligator at the lake while drinking water. Good thing I was there and manage to save him in time and decided to take him here and then you arrived so I decided to make this fawn your patient.”  Marga explained while she watches her student heal the fawn.

Marga is also a mage. A powerful healer who uses her magical power to heal physical wounds. She’s been living in the woods ever since she was a child and only a few people knew her and those people are also mages and wizards.

Izuku accidentally got lost four years ago in the woods and found her house. She was away at that time and because it was raining, Izuku made his way inside her nipa hut and fell asleep. When she returned home, she almost killed Izuku by stabbing him with her staff, but she didn’t continue it when she felt Izuku’s magical power which is not very common for a child nowadays.

Marga waited for Izuku to wake up and when the child saw her, he scrambled in fear and kept saying sorry like a mantra. Marga noticed the key on Izuku’s belt and felt magic coming out from it.

“You’re a mage, aren’t you?” She asked Izuku who is on the verge of crying in fright.

Izuku stared in shock at the older woman. “Eh.. H-how did you know?” Izuku asked in shock. “Don’t under estimate me you little fool, I am also a mage. A healer to be exact.” Marga said with strict look on her face.

“What!? I thought there are no longer mages in this time other than me?” Izuku asked still in shock.

Marga raised a brow “Seriously? You believe on those rumors? There are mages and wizards out there. Weak and powerful, but they chose to hide to avoid those people who thinks of themselves as super humans or known as quirk wielding people. Those stupid people thinks they are great.”

Izuku stared at Marga in shock. “Then… I’m not the only one?” Marga sighed at the quivering child in front of her. “Yeah. At this time, only those who are quirkless are using magic, but there are some people who has a quirk and magic at the same time. I believe that you are quirkless, so tell me, who is your teacher?”

Izuku gave Marga a confused look. “Teacher? What teacher?” Izuku asked.

“The person who taught you magic, of course. Are you an idiot? Us mages received our Magic from our teachers.” Marga replied.

“I don’t have teacher. I teach myself.”  Izuku replied.

At first, Marga didn’t believe Izuku, but after telling her the full story, she believed the child. Izuku also used this chance since she is a healer, to teach the healing spells from the book. Izuku rewritten some of the spells from the book and told Marga to help him.

It took Izuku three months before Marga agrees to his pleas.

TBC

Part 5 here