#I’m not even sure I’m advanced enough to teach anyone anything but eh

[keferon]

Any tips on how to draw transformers?

It’s not a real tutorial and more like….the way I survive drawing them. Here👍

The english is probably shitty but I believe it’s understandable enough haha

[fortuositywritings]

I Said No (Wanda x R): Pt 4

Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3

Summary: You try to be friends with Wanda. Frankly, you could try a little harder. (Ice cream date, but it’s not really a date, but like it is but it’s not)

PS: There are like three swear words, mentions of exercise, and you eat a lot of pancakes but that’s cause you’re hungry. It’s not a problem. Also, if you are actually athletic, are fit, or like to exercise, you aren’t and you don’t. Not in this house.

You wake up the next morning with a sore neck. As you sit up, you see Nat standing beside the couch looking at you over her coffee cup scaring the life out of you. 

“So, how’d you sleep?” she asks.

“Like a princess,” you sarcastically reply. Stretching, you hear your body popping in all different places. Maybe you will take Pietro up on his offer.

“I know what will help. Some exercise. Get ready. We’re going on a hike.”

You finally take in Nat’s appearance and see her sporting the attire for a hike. 

You groan. “You say hike, but I know you really mean running at an incline.”

“Come on. Don’t be a baby. Exercise is good for you. When’s the last time you got any?”

You want to make a joke because of how she worded it, but your mischievous smile gives you away.

“Exercise, Y/N. When’s the last time you got any exercise,” she clarifies.

“The last time you asked me that.”

“A year ago?” 

“And my body is still sore. Ask me again in a few months,” you go to lie down again but she throws a couch cushion at your head. “Okay, okay. Jeez, woman. I’m up.”

When you return from your hike, you are heaving. You don’t ever really think about how unfit you are, which makes sense when you don’t spare 5 minutes to do any kind of exercise, but a hike with Nat will surely remind you. You are sweating buckets and just want to pass out when you enter the house. Everyone is awake presumably having breakfast. You can smell the pancakes from the living room. Your stomach growls. You want to eat but even chewing sounds like too exhausting at the moment. You just want to knock out. You head over to your sleeping quarters for the week, but before you collapse on the couch, your cousin says, “I don’t want any sweat on my couch, Y/N.”

“Ugh,” you complain but comply and go to take a shower. There is no warm water. You assume all the guests had probably had their turn while you were out. You don’t mind it too much. The cold water wakes you up and you feel refreshed. Soon you are sitting with everyone else making plans for the day, but unlike everyone else at the table you are scarfing down pancake after pancake, hardly chewing between each swallow. The conversation dies down as everyone starts to look your way. You’d be embarrassed at your table manners but honestly you’re too famished to care. 

“Woah, slow your roll there, Y/N. Where was this energy on our hike?” You hear Nat’s voice come up behind you. You don’t bother looking at her, showing her the middle finger behind your back so the kids won’t see. She chuckles as she sits on the empty seat beside you. 

“You might be faster than me,” Pietro comments.

“You know it’s not gentleman-like commenting on the way a woman eats,” you answer, mouth full and all. 

“It’s also not lady-like to speak with your mouth full of food,” Laura reprimands you.

“Cooper doesn’t care. Right, Cooper?” you turn to the kid in question still chewing on your food.

He answers you with a mouth full of food as well, “Right!”

Your cousin sighs as you reach over to give Cooper a fist bump. Wanda laughs at the interaction from beside Cooper. You give her a quick wink before settling back in your seat. She just rolls her eyes.

They all go back to their conversation and you go back to eating your delicious pancakes in peace. Once you are satisfied, you sink back in your chair letting out a happy sigh.

“Are you sure you don’t want another one? You hardly ate anything, Y/N,” Nat sarcastically says.

You roll your eyes in good nature. “Honestly, I do want another one but my stomach might explode. I’m going to be dreaming of these pancakes tonight. I’d wed whoever made these bad boys but sorry, cousin,” you turn to Laura, “you’ve got a husband and kids, and I just can’t tear a family apart.”

“Also, she’s your cousin,” Nat emphasizes.

“Obviously that was implied, Natasha,” you say her full name obnoxiously.

“I’d love to take all the credit, but Wanda actually made breakfast. So if you’re marrying anyone for the pancakes, it’s Wanda,” Laura says. 

“You hear that, Wanda? I’m going to make an honest woman out of you.” You wiggled your eyebrows her way.

“If anything, it’s the other way around, Y/N,” your cousin teases.

“Don’t egg Y/N on, Laura,” Clint quips.

“But then who is going to make me pancakes like these, Barton?” You pout.

“I can,” Pietro pipes up. “I’ll even bring them to you for breakfast in bed.” He winks as Nat and Clint wrinkle their noses in distaste and Wanda stifles a laugh.

“What?” Pietro asks his sister.

“Pietro, you can’t boil an egg.”

“Yes, I can. I can make many things. I even helped you with this breakfast,” Pietro insists.

Everyone watches the siblings squabble in amusement, especially when Wanda turns to you to stage whisper, “He burnt two pancakes.”

“I did not!”

“Ask Peter. He had one,” Wanda says in turn. Peter shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

“It was a little crunchy,” Peter says after much hesitation. Sam pats his shoulder, shaking his head. “Poor kid. No one should have to eat crunchy pancakes.”

After breakfast the kids decide they want to play basketball with the hoop Clint had placed over the barn doors. You break into teams of 3. It’s you, Lila, and Peter versus Sam, Cooper, and Pietro. Nat and Wanda sit on the sidelines watching and cheering. Your team is not doing so great. If it wasn’t for Peter pulling the team, you would cry in embarrassment. The guys on the opposing team start to get cocky. Sam rubbing the score in your team’s face, Cooper repeating whatever Sam says, and Pietro begins making flirty remarks about teaching you one on one and so on. You want to ignore his remarks but you kind of also want to wipe the smirk off his face. You do just that a few minutes later when you finally make a shot after Peter screens him allowing you to shoot. You look to see if Wanda saw but frown when you notice she’s not there anymore. You play for a few more minutes but you are quickly getting tired.

Laura comes up beside Nat and yells over to you, “Y/N, I need you to run to the store for me.”

“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief as you go over to your cousin and take the list she holds out to you. “Nat, sub me in?”

“Gladly.” She walks confidently over to take your place. You hear Sam and Pietro whine behind you when they realize Nat is playing in your place.

You chuckle as you read the list. “Are we having hamburgers tonight?”

“Gosh, you really were not paying attention while eating those pancakes. Clint wants to grill tonight.”

“Can you blame me? I’m getting that pancake recipe,” you say with complete determination. “Speaking of, have you seen Wanda?”

“Y/N.” Your cousin gives you a look.

“What?” You say innocently, knowing exactly what that look means.

“Clint told me about that little talk he and Nat had with you.”

“So, what now? I can’t be her friend?” you scoff.

“Friend. Mhmm, sure,” she laughs in disbelief and shakes her head. Why does no one in this damn house believe you?

“Mhmm,” you repeat as you are walking back to the house.

“Check the guest room,” Laura says last minute. Well, at least your cousin’s got your back. You give her a thumbs up in thanks.

Sure enough, Wanda is in the guest bedroom. She’s sitting in bed with a book in her hand. You softly knock on the door. She looks up, notices it’s you, frowns, and goes back to reading. You tilt your head wondering what has her in a mood. Is she back to thinking about her ex? Maybe you can help distract her as a good friend would do.

You walk over to the bed before deciding to sit in front of her cross-legged, elbows on knees, chin on the palm of one hand. “Whatcha got there?”

“A book. Ever heard of one?” she replies without bothering to look up.

Sheesh. “Oh, my god. Is it real? Can I, like, touch it? I’ve always heard about books but I’ve never seen one in person,” you say sarcastically, hoping to get some positive reaction from her. You see a slight upturn on the corner of her lips before it disappears. Though it was miniscule, it was a step forward no less. You sit there for a minute staring at her and thinking of how to proceed. You don’t want to worsen her mood with one of your dumb jokes.

Wanda can feel your eyes searching for some kind of sign from her. She gives up trying to read her book, having been repeating the same paragraph over and over again. She puts the book down and huffs. “Can I help you?” 

“Actually, you can,” you say. “I’m going into town to get some stuff for the hamburgers and I was wondering if you wanted to come?”

Maybe you are simply confusing Wanda’s boredom for an unpleasant attitude. 

“Didn’t you ask Piet? There’s no way he refused going with you.”

 Or not. 

Her sardonic tone is not lost on you. So, it’s about the brother and not the ex. You want to scream. This is why you have the twin rule. Though you want to bang your head on a wall for not listening to your own rules, you keep your composure as you stand to leave the room. Before you go, you tell Wanda, “I haven’t asked Pietro. I thought of you first, but if you’re not feeling it, I’m sure he would say yes like you say.”

You turn and head out to the hallway dejectedly, but you perk up when you hear Wanda stop you. “Wait! Let me put on my shoes.”

You wait for her in the hallway, smiling to yourself in part because you would not have to spend hours with Pietro’s constant advances but mostly because you got to spend time with Wanda without supervision. You are a grown ass adult, eh, not really, but legally you were an adult. You don’t need to be supervised. It’s not like you needed someone to watch you else you throw yourself at Wanda. Sure, you like to tease here and there but it’s not bothersome. Is it? Oh, god, were you annoying Wanda?

Those thoughts are quickly dispelled when Wanda meets you with a smile. “Ready.”

No, Wanda wouldn’t have agreed to go with you if you were really a bother. You’re sure of it.

It’s a 20 minute ride into town. With Wanda’s mood having done a full 180, you find yourself enjoying your time with her as she recounts a slight hiccup on Steve’s behalf on a mission. Soon enough you are driving up the main street looking for a parking spot. Luckily you find a spot not too far from the store. You head inside and grab a cart. You and Wanda wander around the aisles looking for what you need. Wanda takes over cart duty when you keep bumping into things because you’re distracted with either looking over the list or looking over at her. You say a quick hello to a few people you recognize.

“Well aren’t you popular,” Wanda comments as you both turn into the frozen food aisle to look for hamburger patties. 

“Yeah, that’s not always a good thing,” you say when you spot a woman you know in the same aisle. You move to walk real close behind Wanda, trying to hide your face. 

“What are you doing?” Wanda asks when she feels your forehead resting between her shoulder blades.

“Shhh, just keep walking,” you command without any explanation. Your really sad attempt at hiding was all for naught when you hear your name.

“Y/N? Is that you?” 

You take a deep breath, plaster a fake smile, and leave Wanda’s space. “Hi, Mrs. Townsend. How’s it going?”

“I thought that was you. You can’t hide from me, you know. Not that you were ever any good at it,” she says knowingly. You cringe at the memory of her finding you in her daughter’s closet. This woman disliked you from start to finish, which made sense given that her daughter had broken up with her boyfriend for you only for you to break things off a few weeks later.

“Yeah, I know,” you smile sheepishly. She looks over your shoulder at Wanda. She looks curious but not in the best way.  “And who is this?”

Wanda introduces herself with a polite smile. “Hello, I’m Wanda. Pleasure to meet you.”

“You look familiar. Have we met before?” Mrs. Townsend asks.

“No, I guess I just have that face,” Wanda responds with no hesitation having practiced that line so many times on missions. Mrs. Townsend’s stare weighs heavy and Wanda begins to feel uncomfortable.

“A very pretty one at that. Y/N sure knows how to pick them. Is that an accent I hear? Where are you from, dear?” Mrs. Townsend asks, with faux intrigue. Now you’re uncomfortable too. 

You know you shouldn’t speak for Wanda but you don’t want to subject her to be in this woman’s presence any longer. “Actually, she’s just a friend visiting from New York. She and a few others are staying with Laura. And actually, she’s expecting us to return soon. So, have a good day, Mrs. Townsend. Come on, Wanda. Let’s go.”

You lead Wanda away by pulling the cart behind you. When you’re nearly clear of the aisle, Wanda stops and reminds you that you never got the patties. You tell her to go ahead and get in line to pay while you go back for the patties, them being the last thing to get from the list. Mrs. Townsend is still in the aisle now talking on the phone very displeased. “Yes, she was right here and with another girl-” she cuts herself off when you’re in her vision reaching to get what you need. 

You give her a sarcastic smile. As you pass by her for the last time, you smirk and lean in to say, “Tell Abby I say hi.” Then you wink, leaving Mrs. Townsend very angry, and head over to the checkout area where Wanda is waiting. Wanda doesn’t say anything other than “Well, she was lovely” to which you laughed. Apart from that, she stays quiet at the checkout and as you put the items in the car. Before she has a chance to open the door to get in the passenger seat, you stand in front of the door blocking the handle. 

“Hey,” you begin, but Wanda is looking at her shoes, her hands fiddling with the rings on her fingers. You take her hand to shake her arm in an attempt to get her to look up. “Look at me.” 

You wish you hadn’t asked that of her because when she does look at you, it tears you apart. If you did not think your presence was needed more here, you could storm right back into that store and give Mrs. Townsend a piece of your mind. 

“Mrs. Townsend is an asshole. You should never take what an asshole says to heart cause it’s all shit,” you say in all seriousness. Wanda giggles and raises her free hand to rub her face. You pull it away from her face. Holding both her hands you continue, “She’s just a grumpy lady holding a grudge over something I did like two years ago. It’s nothing to do with you and all to do with me. So don’t listen to anything she says, okay?”

It takes a moment but she finally nods. “There we are.” You pull her into a hug, one she accepts easily, hoping to give further comfort. You can’t help but think how nice it is to hold her, moreso, when she hugs you tighter. 

“So, she was lying when she said I was pretty?” Wanda tries to joke, adopting your method of lightening the mood.

“Oh, absolutely,” you answer. She quickly pulls back from your hold but you don’t let her go too far, holding onto her elbows. “Cause you are breathtakingly gorgeous,” you finish.

She smiles and a blush takes over her face. You decide to add, “In fact, I can’t even breathe right now standing so close to your beauty.” You dramatically gasp for air making Wanda laugh and smack you. 

“Ow, if this is how you Avenger women treat your adoring fans, I’d hate to see how you take down the bad guys.”

“Oh, so you’re a fan?” Wanda asks adorning a sly smile.

“Mhmm, since day one.”

“Is that so? Because from what I remember you called me Crimson Witch just yesterday,” she teases you.

“And I stand by what I said,” you respond. You cut her off when she opens her mouth to argue. “But if I have offended you, let me make it up to you.”

She narrows her eyes, looking at you skeptically as if you were up to no good making you want to laugh. “How?” She asks warily.

You lean into her space once more to say, “I know a place.” You wink and without allowing her to respond, you take her hand dragging her along behind you. “Come on.” 

Your destination is just two blocks away. Wanda speeds up to walk beside you but she never lets your hand go. Not that you mind it in the least. You stop her when you arrive and reluctantly let her hand go to make a grandiose gesture with your arms. “Ta-Da!”

“An ice-cream shop?” she asks you, clearly unimpressed.

“Not just any ice-cream shop. The Ice Cream Shop!” You can’t help but say enthusiastically. Wanda on the other hand does not look enthused. You can’t believe she’s not excited for ice cream. “Oh, come on, Wanda. Don’t tell me you don’t like ice cream. The only excuse I’ll take is that you’re lactose intolerant or vegan. Just don’t tell me you prefer frozen yogurt. Oh, god. You do, don’t you?” You gasp dramatically, your hand clutching your chest. 

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes in a light hearted manner at your antics. “You’ve made your point. Just open the door.”

“Bossy,” you laugh, but do as she wishes though you make a show out of opening the door. You bow and motion for her to enter as you hold the door open. “After you, m’lady.”

She sighs. Passing through the door, she mumbles, “I could be in bed reading right now.”

“Ah, but then you would’ve missed the opportunity to hang out with someone as cool as me,” you say as you and Wanda go to stand behind the group of teenage girls ordering their ice cream.

“Oh, are they meeting us after? Do you think they’ll buy me frozen yogurt?” she retorts, amusement shining through her eyes. You generally find quick witted remarks annoying. Mostly because you’ve always been surrounded by smart-alecks all your life. Your cousin is one. Then she married one who had one as a best friend. Somehow, you find the same quality in Wanda kind of attractive. Oh god. This can’t be happening.

“Quit being so grumpy. You’re gonna thank me when you try it. It’s only the best there is.”

“You should listen to her, but hey, I may be a little biased,” the woman working at the counter backs you up. The teenage girls are long gone.

“Thank you, Tanya,” you reply, stepping forward to the middle aged woman you know to be the owner of the shop. She was actually the one to give you your first job at this very same ice cream shop. Maybe you were also a little biased. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to be in town so early, Y/N.”

“Well, I just missed you so much, I couldn’t wait to get here,” you explain.

“Uh, huh. I’m sure that’s it.” Her voice is full of disbelief. You laugh.

“Actually, I got here yesterday. I wanted to come earlier to help out Laura now that she’s phwwt,” you whistle and make a belly bump gesture like it’s a scandalous secret.

“She’s married and this is baby number three, Y/N. You can say pregnant,” your old boss laughs.

“But that’s no fun,” you pout.

“And who is this little thing?” She turns to Wanda, who timidly smiles still two steps behind you.

“Come on, I don’t bite, hun.” Tanya gives her a sincere smile, one much different from Mrs. Townsend’s. Wanda slowly approaches after you wave her over encouragingly. When she is close enough, you hold her forearm to introduce her to Tanya, trying to ease her nerves. It seems to work. You feel her relax and lean into your side as she says, “Hi, I’m Wanda.” 

“Pleasure to meet you dear. I’m Tanya. See, no need to be shy.”

“She’s not usually like this as far as I can tell. She’s actually quite chatty. Sometimes I don’t know how to get her to stop talking,” you joke. Wanda scoffs and bumps your hip with hers.

“Whenever Y/N begins to annoy you, just put on some earphones and hide them with your hair. It works wonders. She can talk to herself for hours,” your old boss advises Wanda.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“Hey!” You interject. “Tanya, where is your loyalty? So quick to team up against me.”

Wanda giggles beside you. You turn your head to playfully glare at her, missing the way Tanya smiles at the interaction in front of her. 

“So how’d you two meet? I don’t think I’ve seen you in town before, Wanda.”

“She’s a friend and um, coworker of Clint and Natasha. She’s here for the week.” You hope Tanya didn’t catch your little hiccup there. However, you miss the implication of her question. Tanya tries to remember who Nat is.

“Natasha. Is she the intimidating red head always wearing tight jeans?” You and Wanda laugh. You affirm with a finger to your nose. “Didn’t you date her sister?”

You let go of Wanda’s arm to throw your head into your hands. “Ugh, how could you possibly know that?”

“Small town. Word gets around fast. People are probably already talking about you two, especially when you’ve got someone as beautiful as Wanda with you.”

Wanda blushes at the insinuation. “There’s nothing to talk about,” you tell Tanya. 

Tanya raises an eyebrow, “You mean, you’re not dating?”

“Please, Wanda here is way out of my league. I mean, funny, polite, pleasant, and gorgeous. Maybe even a little pretentious. I caught her reading a book… for fun. Who does that? Ow!” Wanda smacks your arm and Tanya laughs. “Did I mention violent?”

The bell above the entrance door chimes informing you three that other customers are coming in. “Okay, so what can I get you?” Tanya asks, moving this along.

“I’d like two scoops of rainbow sherbert on a cone, please.”

“And for you, hun?” Tanya asks Wanda after handing you your cone. 

“Um, may I have two scoops of strawberry, please?”

“Of course, you’d get red,” you taunt.

“Here you are.” Tanya hands Wanda her cone. You take out a ten dollar bill from your pocket to pay but Tanya won’t have it. “My treat, ladies.” 

“But this is sort of an apology cone I promised Wanda,” you try again.

“Y/N! Apologizing with a three dollar ice cream cone is not a real apology. You can do better.”

“It’s like you read my mind, Tanya,” Wanda says. You want to laugh at the irony.

“It wasn’t for anything serious,” you try to argue.

“Whatever it was, you can treat her to something nicer,” Tanya reprimands you.

“Well, what am I supposed to do?”

“The fair is in town. Take her to that. Now shoo, I’ve got customers waiting. Nice meeting you, Wanda,” she says.

“You too. Thanks.”

You exit first, holding the door open for Wanda without thinking about it. She smiles and loops her arm through yours as you both head back to the car at a leisurely pace. You look to see if Wanda likes her ice cream. There is no doubt about it as she begins to hum in happiness. You want to say something like “ I told you so” but she warns you before you have the chance to open your mouth. “Don’t.”

You smirk and turn to your ice cream. You try to savour it, but you demolish that ice cream. You pout when you see it all gone. Wanda still has half of hers.

“Quit being so grumpy,” she says, throwing your words from earlier back at your face. “Here, you can have some of mine.”

She lifts her cone to your mouth. You happily go to take a bite when Wanda shoves the rest of her cone in your face. It wasn’t much but you can smell the damn strawberry ice cream as it drips from your nose. You’re too shocked to move for a minute. She laughs as you try to process what just happened. You hear the shutter noise of a camera. You see Wanda holding her phone up. That snaps you out of your daze. Wanda takes off running the second she sees the look that settles on your face. She doesn’t have to be a telepath to know what that look means. You chase after her. 

She gets to the car before you but can’t open the door. She turns around, hands out in front of her body which is shaking from nervous laughter. “Wait, Y/N. I’m sor-”

You pull her into a hug and shove your ice cream riddled nose to her neck smearing the strawberry flavored dessert on her. “Stop, okay. I’m sorry. Stop, that tickles!” She bursts out laughing. You take pity and let her go, but your feet stay planted where they are. You both quickly sober up when you see how close you are. You feel the tension from yesterday return. You know what you want to do but you know you shouldn’t. Wanda is not making it easy looking at you the same way. Before either of you make a decision, your phone rings ruining whatever that was. You awkwardly clear your throat and back away. You give Wanda a smile before reaching for your phone. You answer it without looking at the name of whoever is calling. It’s Laura asking if you are on your way. You tell her you’ll be there soon. 

You unlock the car and open the passenger door for Wanda. She gives you a quiet thanks. The drive to the house is awkward to say the least, a total contrast to the ride into town. The music in the background does nothing to alleviate your discomfort. In fact, you think it might have made it worse. 

You let out a little sigh of relief once the barn enters your line of sight. Wanda on the other hand can’t take it anymore. She turns off the radio and turns to you expectantly. You take a deep breath knowing what was coming. Having a feeling this conversation could get loud, you slow down the car to a stop before you could pull up to the barn. You’d rather not let anyone overhear knowing how nosy they all are.

“What was that back there?”

“You started it, shoving the ice cream in my face.” You play naive.

“Don’t do that.”

You don’t know why you thought you could get away with lying to her when you know she can literally read minds.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to. I did. I do.”

“Well, I do too,” Wanda says.

“You do?” you ask. You don’t know why you sound so shocked. You had a gut feeling already, but it surprises you hearing her say it aloud anyway.

“You know I do. So what’s the problem?”

The problem is you can’t. The problem is you promised Nat, Clint, and yourself you wouldn’t. The problem is what Nat said at dinner struck a chord with you. Sure she could have been a little nicer about it and maybe not say it in front of everybody, but she was right nonetheless. The problem is your habit of touch and go, the one you never wanted to admit you had, only hurts people. You are the problem and you‘ve decided to fix it, starting with Wanda. You won’t allow yourself the chance to break Wanda’s heart. You don’t think she deserves that.

“You don’t get to decide what I deserve. Neither does Nat. Neither does Clint. I get to make that decision for myself. If I put it all on the line and end up heartbroken, then that’s on me. I make that choice.”

You nod, “You’re right. That is your choice and I can respect that. But it’s also my choice to decide I can’t be the one to break your heart. Can you respect that?”

A heavy silence settles in the car, but you have said all you needed to say so you wait for Wanda to respond. When she realizes your mind is set, she nods. After another minute of silence, she asks, “What now, then?”

“Cliché, but friends?” you suggest. When Wanda scoffs in disbelief, you have to ask, “What?”

“You and me?” Wanda asks as if for clarification.

“Well, I don’t see anyone else in the car. Yes, Wanda. You and me.”

“Have you ever been just friends with anyone before?” Wanda asks, placing no kind of faith in your ability to maintain platonic relationships.

“Are you asking if I can keep it in my pants? Not to bruise your ego, but I can be in a room with you without wanting to jump your bones, Maximoff. I have plenty of strictly platonic friends. Like... Nat.”

She laughs at the choice you made for an example. “That’s only because Natasha doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“So, what you’re saying is this friendship won’t work because you can’t keep it in your pants?” you counter and watch with amusement Wanda’s face flush and her try to defend herself.

“N-no,” she stutters weakly.

“Great,” you say cheerily. “It’s settled then. We can be friends.”

“There are rules though,” Wanda warns you as you start driving toward the house again.

“Already? Had I known this friendship came with terms and conditions, I might have never suggested it. Fine, lay them on me.”

“No more flirting with my brother.”

“I have never flirted with your-” you start to deny, but when she gives you a knowing look you quickly agree. “Okay, but if he’s putting in all the work, who am I to keep him from living out his dreams?” You jest. She punches your arm.

“Alright, new rule! No more hitting me.”

“No.”

“Okay.”

You were beginning to see the rules to this friendship were not going to be in your favor.

_____________________________________________________________________

So, I lied when I said this was going to be most likely 5 chapters. It turns out I really like dialogue. I'm hoping max is 8 chapters.

Your assignment in preparation for the next chapter: pick a nice outfit cause you're going to the county fair.

Extra Credit: Name the county. (I'm prob going to pick one from the comments)

taglist: @madamevirgo @marvels-writings @gayarchnemessis @myperfectlovepoem @purplemeetsblue @magicallymaximoff @b0mbdotc0m @helloalycia @ironscarletwidowsoilder

[souichioneshots]

Souichi x Farmer!Reader

Souichi goes to visit one of his oldest farmer friends for some straw. In return, he makes her a voodoo doll and things get a litttlleee steamy

ahaha idk lol

Souichi heavily breathed through his mouth as he continued to walk down the treeless path. The summer sun shining down on him was making him sweat bullets, and having a large leather satchel cling to his body was starting to make him feel sick.

“Why does she have to live so far away…” Souichi mumbled to himself as he wiped the sweat off his forehead.

Passing a couple more rice fields, a large Japanese-style cottage finally came into view. It was surrounded by a couple of mango trees and 2 PVC greenhouses. He could see from the outside that they were once again filled completely with strawberries and tomatoes.

As he approached the house, he realized that all of the cars were gone. He thought for a second that he came all this way for nothing, but then he heard a familiar voice echoing in the distance.

“Kuro! Way to me! Shiro! Lie down! Hairo! Lie down!!” Souichi quickly made his way to the back of the house, where the voice was coming from.

As he pushed past a large bush, he finally saw you. You had been herding a large trip of white-tan goats and your 3 dogs, Kuro, Shiro, and Hairo were also doing their best to keep the goats in place.

“Y/N!” Souichi called out from a distance, getting your attention.

“Hmm? Souichi!!” You turned around and called back, jumping slightly in the air.

Souichi laughed as the goats also turned in his direction and let out a little “meh” sound as a greeting.

“Give me a second. I’ll be done in a bit.”

Souichi watched from under the shade of a tree as you continued to order your dogs to do their job.

You and Souichi had been friends for as long as he could remember. It was actually his grandmother who introduced him to you when he was younger. She used to get straw and other ritualistic material from your family when she practiced magick, and now he was getting stuff from you as well.

Today, he had come for his usual satchel fill of straw, and anything else you would give him as a gift. You loved to give him gifts. From fresh rice, to mangos, and even white strawberries.

Everyone in the town knew your family used magick because there was no way mangos nor white strawberries could grow in the weather conditions this part of Japan had to offer.

“Sorry for the wait!” You held onto your straw hat as you ran up to the boy. “We actually built a new barn last week for the straw. It’s this way.”

Getting up from his spot, Souichi walked with you to a small open barn located on the other side of your house.

“Woah…” Souichi looked up in awe at the massive amount of straw you had stored up this season.

“Pretty impressive, right? It’s the largest haul we’ve had in years. Praise Ninigi.” Turning towards the sun, you bowed once. Souichi quickly turned with you and did the same.

You laughed a bit at his sudden action. You knew that without his grandmother around, he wasn’t sure how to act in these types of situations. So, he mostly just copied you.

Putting your hand out, you gestured for Souichi to give you his satchel.

"Do you need me to tie them up or can I just stuff it in here?" You asked as you walked over to a large pile of loose straw.

"Just like that is fine." Souichi replied.

Picking up a handful of straw, you neatly placed it inside. When it was finally full enough, you closed it up and handed it back to the boy.

Although it was a lot, it still felt surprisingly light. Hopefully, it won't go to waste this time.

Sitting on a large straw stack, you took off your hat. You shook your head side to side as your long hair flowed from inside the hat and down onto the straw you were sitting on. You had been growing your hair out since kindergarten. Never cutting it once. Just the sheer length of it made you look like a goddess yourself. Although it was a big distraction when you worked, you planned on using your ‘virgin uncut hair’ in future rituals. At least, that’s what you told Souichi.

Patting the empty space next to you, you asked Souichi to sit next down.

“Ma actually took away the voodoo doll you made me last time you came over… Think you can you make me a new one…” You said in a sad voice as you looked at the boy.

“Again?” Souichi replied, sighing loudly.

Although your family practiced black magick in order to keep the farming business alive, you were strictly forbidden from practicing curses and other types of voodoo until you turned ○○. In the meanwhile, your mother forced you to tend to the farm and learn how to be a proper worker. That’s why whenever Souichi came over, in exchange for whatever he wanted, he would teach you anything he knew about black magick in secret.

Currently, you were learning how to make straw voodoo dolls.

You didn’t really have anyone in particular that you wanted or needed to curse, but you wanted to be prepared just in case anything happened in the future.

You smiled widely as the raven-haired boy took out a pair of pruning shears and red string from the front pocket of his satchel.

Grabbing a couple handfuls of straw, you placed them on your lap for him to freely use.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re making it by yourself this time.” He sternly said.

“Eh~? But I’m tired from doing chores all morning…I’ll give ya a kilogram of rice if you make this one for me~” Souichi just shook his head no. He would need a better incentive if you wanted him to do this for you again.

“Hmmm…Aha! I’ll give you a whole box of fresh white strawberries as well!” Souichi smiled as you offered him exactly what he wanted. There was a reason your family sold their strawberries for over 20,000 yen a box. Getting them for free from you was one of the best parts of coming over.

“Fine. But this is the last time. And pay attention this time.” Humming happily, you handed him a handful of straw.

“First, make a circle with your thumb and index finger. Then place enough straw to fill it completely. When you get the right amount, you use some string to… Uhh... Hold this.”

Handing you the bundle of straw, he used the shears to cut a couple pieces of string to use.

“…Hold it up straight up…Yeah, like that. You tie up the top end around here. Next, you repeat this with another section of straw. When you finish that, you slide one section into the middle of the other. Then you just tie it up here, and here. Lastly, you part it in the middle for the leg sections… And then you tie up those ends and…Done!”

You let out a small whine as your mind failed to keep up with Souichi's speedy motions and vague explanation. You wanted to ask him to do it again, this time much slower, but you knew he would just go at the same speed again.

Cutting the extra pieces of straw that stuck out from the ends of the voodoo doll, he made it look presentable.

“So, what do you think? Pretty good, right?” Souichi proudly said as he handed it to you.

“Yeah! I think it might even be better than the one you made me last time!" You replied as you examined the doll in awe. "So, all I need in order to curse someone is their picture?” The straw crunched in your fingers as you opened up the chest section a bit.

“You can also use their hair, and at times when your hatred towards them is at its peak, you can just write down their name on a piece of paper, stuff it in the middle there, and it’ll work.”

You hummed in amusement as the boy once again explained to you the way straw voodoo dolls worked.

“Hair, huh…” You said to yourself in a voice so quiet not even Souichi could hear.

Moving closer to him, you spoke in a loving voice. “I never did thank you for the last doll you made me, did I?” Putting the doll down on the empty space next to you, you moved to place a quick kiss on the boy’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“Ah! Hehe…I-It was no problem… I can make you more anytime you want really…” Souichi turned his face away from you, trying to hide the blush that had grown on his cheeks.

You were always the affectionate type.

“Then, I should probably thank you in advance~” Bringing your hand to his face, you turned him towards you. Souichi’s body burned with embarrassment as you placed multiple kisses on his cheek again.

“You know, you can also thank me for always giving you so much straw~” You teased as you tapped your own cheek, hinting for him to give you a small kiss back.

Closing his eyes, Souichi moved to plant a kiss on your cheek. However, you also moved back to face him as well.

Souichi’s eyes shot open as you pressed your lips against his.

The remaining straw on your legs fell to the ground as you moved to straddle the blushing boy.

You were perhaps a bit too affectionate really.

But Souichi wasn’t complaining.

Souichi’s eyes fluttered closed as he melted into your kiss. Your hands caressed his face as you quickly deepened the kiss.

Souichi playfully bit your bottom lip as you tried to pull back for air, forcing you to return back to him. He liked to experiment with different ways of teasing you every time you spontaneously kissed him like this.

Slowly, your hands ran through his hair, making it messier than it was before.

"Ow!" Souichi pushed you back and yelled in pain as you suddenly pulled his hair.

Moving to sit up, you gloated.

“Haha! Now that I have your hair, you have to follow everything I say or I’ll curse you to death!” You laughed as you help up a single strand of dark hair. You were expecting Souichi to try to get it back from you, but he didn’t.

Looking back at you with an equally victorious smile, he moved his hands in front of you, showing off the contents it held.

“That makes two of us~ Kekekeke~”

Your smile dropped and your eyes widened in shock as you saw the shears in one hand and a large amount of your hair in another.

Bringing your hands up to your head, you felt the difference in hair length on each side.

“How could you…” Tears ran down your cheeks, making Souichi stop his cackling.

“I hate you!!” Pushing yourself off the boy, you got onto your feet and started to run towards your house. “I’m telling Baphomet!!”

The goats in the barn loudly cried as you mentioned the name of the deity your family religiously worshiped.

“Crap! No!! Y/N!!” Jumping off the straw-stack, Souichi threw your hair and the shears onto the ground.

“Wait!! I’m sorry!!” Souichi exclaimed as he chased after you.

Just before he could grab ahold of you, you ran into the house. You were so upset that you didn’t even bother to take off your shoes.

Souichi slipped on the grass as he tried to stop himself from going any further. He knew he couldn’t enter your house without your given permission.

Souichi felt his mind go into a panic as he saw you approach the large altar in your living room.

The goats in the barn cried even louder and banged their horns against the wooden walls as you pointed towards the boy outside your house.

Just before he could run away for safety, your three dogs surrounded him. Souichi let out a high-pitched cry of fear as the dogs barked and growled, forcing him to stay in place.

He made a big mistake messing with the daughter of the Baphomet worshiping family.

[fandomlovingfreak]

Healing His Heart (4/?)

Young Remus Lupin/Reader

Rating: E for Everyone

Word Count: 2890

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link I Tiktok Link

Summary: (y/n) is two years younger than him, a popular Slytherin, and Regulus Black's best friend. Yet he can't help but be attracted to her bewitching personality and sweet smile. Unfortunately, his er--problem makes it harder to get close to others. Despite his attempts to push her away (for her own good) she seems determined to worm her way into his life.

Notes: Thanks for reading!

Enjoy

"I asked her out," Remus says in the common room later that night, "to Hogsmeade this weekend."

"Asked who?" James springs from the couch.

"(y/n), of course." 

"(y/n)?" Both James and Sirius yell at the same time.

He jerks his head away from his two friends, "yes? Isn't that what you've been bothering me to do for months? Make a move?"

"Yes," Sirius's eyes are wide, "I didn't think you'd do it, though."

"She's very-- persuasive."

"Obviously very persuasive!" James laughs, "I honestly thought you'd never do it."

Remus shoves his nose back into his textbook, embarrassed by his friend's comments, "Well, I did."

"How'd she manage the impossible?" Sirius asks, leaning towards him.

Remus feels his neck burn. He is not telling James and Sirius (and whoever else may be around the commons room) about the whole speech and then-- the kiss. "She and I talked it out. That's all."

Sirius squints at him, "I don't believe you."

"What? Why?" 

"Because you've been so adamant since Summer that it would not and could not work out. Something happened--" Sirius's devilish grin widens as if he's had a sudden, brilliant realization, "you kissed her! NO! She kissed you!" Remus tries to look stony, he really does, but his face most definitely spills the truth as James and Sirius laugh. James ruffles his hair, asking how it was.

He shushes them, "stop it. It's not that big of a deal--"

"She took the initiative and kissed you. (y/n) really does get what she wants, eh?" James winks, elbowing Sirius playfully.

Sirius squints at Remus, all joking thrown to the back burner, "that's my brother's friend, Moony! You better not hurt her, you understand? She's practically a Black."

"Not for long," James singsongs "(y/n) Lupin has got a ring to it."

Remus rolls his eyes, his cheeks a brilliant shade of red, "I don't have time for this-- I've got a Charms paper to write."

"I bet he's going upstairs to plan how he's going to propose," James snickers. Remus flips him off as he makes his way towards their shared dorm.

"You have to ask my permission first before you ask her!" Sirius shouts after him.

"Shut up!" Remus practically runs up the stairs to end their embarrassing words.

***

Eventually, after the longest week of his life, the Hogsmeade weekend does come.

He finds her waiting for him in the courtyard, donned in a large black winter coat that reaches below her knees, snow boots with fur around the edges, a large knit scarf in Slytherin colors loosely wrapped around her neck, and a grey beanie on her head. He thinks she looks absolutely adorable in her winter gear.

"Hi," his voice is breathy, the crisp air making his words visible in the air.

"Hi," she looks down at his gloveless hands, "are your hands not cold?"

"They're fine." (y/n) shakes her head slightly, taking his hand in one of her mittened ones.

"You can't walk around in the cold without gloves," she tuts, smiling up at him, "tell me if your other hand gets cold. You can have my other mitten."

"I'm not taking your mitten (y/n). Besides, I can put one in my jacket pocket," Remus uses his unoccupied hand to move her scarf further up her chin.

"We'll have to get creative how we keep your other hand warm then." Remus flushes, causing (y/n) to giggle. "C'mon." She pulls him towards the snowy path. He stumbles for only a second, easily pacing her as they walk.

"So--A walk?" he can't think of anything more intelligent to say at that moment, much too focused on the feeling of her hand in his.

"A walk, yes." she glances up at him, "Ask me anything. I'm an open book."

"Anything?" he takes a moment to think of an interesting question but lands on, "what's--uh, what's your favorite class this year?"

(y/n) looks thoughtful for a moment, "surprisingly, I'm rather good at Potions. I think I'll be allowed to take advanced in the upcoming year."

"Really?" he's impressed, "I'm awful at potions."

(y/n) smiles, "What's your favorite class?" 

"Defence Against the Dark Arts," he answers swiftly. 

"Oh really?" she glances at him, "what about Defence Against the Dark Arts do you like?"

"All of it. I think the entire class is fascinating. Maybe it's because it covers such a large range of topics in our world."

"Yeah? Regulus told me once you're big into tutoring younger students. Have you ever thought about teaching after graduation?"

"Me, teaching? No, I haven't. I honestly don't know what I'm going to do once I graduate."

She looks at him, funny, "No? No dream career? But you're absolutely brilliant. I'm sure there are a million different departments at the Ministry that would really benefit from your presence."

He chuckles, "Thank you, but uh-- not many people would hire me."

"Why?"

"Well--the whole…werewolf thing usually disqualifies me from most jobs."

She stops their walking, "What do you mean? People don't want to hire you because of that? That's asinine, Remus!"

He looks at the girl, so full of rage over how others treat him. Something he or she can't control. "It's how people are--"

"No! That's bullshit. Why--why do you let them treat you like that? Why hasn't anyone done anything?" Her (y/e/c) eyes shine with the raw indignant emotion.

"You don't have to be angry on my account. I'm used to it by now (y/n). I've lived with this condition for a long time now."

"I still--" she takes a deep breath, "It's not fair."

He offers her a small smile, squeezing her hand. At this moment, she looks like she'd go to war for him, and he can't say he's upset about it. If anything, it's deepening the feelings that were already present for her. "I know. But, it's not worth being angry over. People will be people." She huffs but doesn't respond. After a moment of silence, he asks, "what do you want to do after graduation?"

(y/n) glances up at him through her lashes, "I want to be a healer."

"Yeah? Would've guessed… professional Quidditch player," he teases.

(y/n) shoulder checks him playfully, "You sound like Regulus. He's tried to convince me at least a thousand times to give up the healer dream and focus on Quidditch."

"We could all go and watch the famous (y/n) (y/l/n)," Remus grins at her. He could see it. She'd been Slytherin's prized Chaser for two years now, and from what he's seen himself, he could see her leading a successful Quidditch career.

"Well, it's not going to happen," she laughs, "I've always wanted to be a healer. That's why I make sure my marks in potions and herbology are top of my class. But I don't want to work for St. Mungos if that's what you're thinking." she shakes her head, "I want to open my own shop. Maybe in my lifetime, I can cure some diseases and ailments. At least make people's suffering less than it is now. Just do something good, you know?"

He nods, impressed by her career choice. He shouldn't be surprised that she's so passionate. The girl was about to burst into flames over his mistreatment moments ago. "That's incredibly admirable. I'm sure you'll achieve the goals you've set out for yourself."

"Probably why I'm a Slytherin, eh? Ambition and all that," she waves her hand in a very 'Sirius' manner, no doubt adopted after years of summer's with his friend.

He chuckles, "obviously."

"Maybe," she looks away from him shyly, "if you can't find anyone open-minded enough to hire you based on your skills, you can work at my shop."

"Offering me a job on the first date? Guess I can't fuck this up, huh?" He jokes.

(y/n)'s bubbling laughter spills from her lips as she bumps her shoulder against his, "You're good with maths, right?"

"Good enough," Remus shrugs.

"Perfect. You can look after the books and the store as I tinker around with my potions during the Wizarding World of its ailments in the back."

He grins, "sounds like a deal."

***

She asks him mundane things, like what his favorite food is and his favorite color. He hasn't been quizzed like this, probably ever, as she attempts to get to know him. All of this seems surface level, like she doesn't want to pry too deep. Maybe she's afraid he'll get scared away if she tries to push him too hard for information. Whenever he can get in a question, though, she's all too happy to answer. 

She's chattering on about her parents when he stops them in the middle of the path, turning to face her. 

"What are you doing?" she watches as he moves to adjust her hat so he can see her eyes better.

Remus doesn't answer her question with words. Instead, his fingers roam her jaw before he's leaning down to kiss her quickly. The soft warmth of her lips resting against his for the moment is intoxicating. The kiss is gentle and innocent but warms his whole body. He doesn't know how he went on for years, not kissing these lips.

(y/n)'s eyes flutter open, "what was that for?"

"Just wanted to," his eyes flick back down to her lips, "again."

"Again," she's grinning, pulling him back down to her lips by his scarf. Her tongue swipes across his bottom lip, demanding to deepen the kiss as her fingers run through his tousled hair. Remus groans as she tugs at the hair at the nape of his neck, finally allowing (y/n) to kiss her how she pleases.

She feels so warm and solid against his body and under his hands that rest on her waist.

"Moony!" Remus pulls away from the kiss at the sound of Sirius's voice. Looking towards where Sirius's voice came from, he sees James and Sirius laughing like this was the most amusing situation they've ever stumbled upon.

"You haven't even gotten the poor girl a Butterbeer yet. Here you are snogging her on the main road?"

"Shut up, Sirius," (y/n) scowls at Sirius, hiding her face slightly in his chest.

James snickers, "I thought we taught you better, Moony."

Remus frowns, "get out of here." They continue to walk away, making kissy noises. Remus leans his forehead against hers, muttering a sorry.

"It's fine--" she giggles, tilting her chin up to press another kiss to his lips.

Remus pulls away from the kiss, rubbing a hand up and down her covered arm. "C'mon. I'll get you that Butterbeer so no one else questions my intentions."

(y/n) rolls her eyes, "I don't care what James and Sirius think."

"You're not the one who has to share a dorm with them later. I'll never hear the end of that." He gestures with a nod towards his slowly retreating friends.

(y/n) giggles adjusting his scarf around his neck, "If I kiss you again, will it make it more bearable?"

He chuckles, "maybe." She leans up again, kissing him quickly before she's again dragging him back down the snowy path.

***

He does get her that Butterbeer eventually after they've walked the path rather slowly to make the time last. They sit at one of the tables nearly in the corner of Three Broomsticks. (y/n) continues to chat away happily, her fingers intertwined with his over the wooden tabletop. 

"So what's it like sharing a dorm with those three?" she asks, taking another sip of her Butterbeer. 

"It's madness," he laughs against the rim of his mug, "but they're the best friends I could ever ask for."

(y/n)'s smile reaches her eyes, "Yeah?"

"Of course, they drive me insane. It's impossible to sleep around them. Sirius loves to pull pranks on anyone who's sleeping."

"I'm fully aware of that. I stopped sleeping in Regulus's room once I became the victim of those pranks." Her eyes twinkle in the muted light of the pub. Remus loses concentration on their conversation for a moment gazing into those (y/e/c) eyes. 

"I'm surprised he dared prank you."

"You think I'm special enough to not be a victim of Sirius's pranks?"

Remus shrugs, "Regulus and Sirius are very protective of you."

She frowns, "what makes you say that?"

Remus leans further over the table, "My life has been threatened by both the Black brother's over you this year alone."

(y/n)'s expression turns to shocked, "no way. What did Regulus say?"

"Demanded to know why I was leading you on. Told me off right in the middle of the hallway," Remus smiles at (y/n), rubbing his thumb gently against the back of her hand.

She looks mortified, "I told him not to intervene--"

"He was right, though. I was acting like-- well, like a jackass. I'm sorry about that, by the way. The whole night at the pub... and everything after that. It was-- immature, to say the least."

"I was so angry at you at the pub, Remus. Were you really that jealous over me talking to that guy?" Remus, feeling still embarrassed over the way he reacted that night, flushes a deep scarlet.

"I don't know what came over me. You don't know how badly I wish I could go back and change how I reacted--"

"It's okay, Remus, honestly."

He smiles, looking at their fingers. Hers look so small in his own, so-- fragile against his scarred ones. "I can't believe I tried so hard to keep you away from me. It's silly. You're-- you're so wonderful…"

(y/n) laughs, "you are too… so sweet and-- gods, Remus…" she's got this look in her eyes that releases butterflies in his stomach, "you don't even see how wonderful you are. It's almost heartbreaking."

He feels his cheeks heat up at her words. No one has ever shown him this sort of affection before. He's watched on the sidelines, and James and Sirius dated people, never really daring to try half in fear of rejection and half because… well, no one tried. And he's partially to blame as well; it's not like he tried. With (y/n), though, it didn't feel like much trying was required. She made it easy.

"Again, I don't see how I deserve you." Remus rubs at the back of his neck, too embarrassed to meet her eyes again.

(y/n) sighs in exasperation, "Remus Lupin-- enough of that. Now tell me something---" she pauses, "tell me something about your childhood."

"What would you like to know?" he rubs his thumb across her knuckles.

"What are your parent's names?"

"Lyall and Hope."

"Did they both attend Hogwarts

Remus shakes his head no, "my mum's a muggle. But my dad, yes."

"Really? I always assumed both your parents were wizarding folk."

"My dad met my mum because of a Boggart. Saved her from it and well, the rest is history."

(y/n) giggles, "that's so cute! Both my parents went to Hogwarts. My mum was in Ravenclaw and my dad, Slytherin. But mum's muggle-born. But my dad, yes."

"Really? I always assumed both your parents were wizarding folk."

"Do you spend a lot of time with your mother's family?"

"No. I don't see my parents very often either."

"Why not?" 

He hesitates for a moment, "with my condition… I don't like to, you know, give my parents any issues."

"There's no way your mother thinks that is acceptable. I mean--"

"No, you're right. She's begged me for ages to come home for breaks, but it's easier to either stay here or stay with my friends." And safer for everyone.

(y/n) shakes her head, "so you stay for… Christmas break at the castle every year?"

"I've stayed at the Potter's once or twice, but yes. For the most part."

"Remus…" she reaches out to touch his cheek, "this year you're planning on staying here--?"

Remus's eyebrows furrow. Even if (y/n) knew what was wrong with him, he didn't exactly still know how to talk about it so openly. "The full moon falls on Christmas this year."

He can see the gears moving in her brain before she opens up her mouth, "Can I stay with you?"

"(y/n)..." he chuckles, "I can't ask you to stay with me. You're going to be horribly bored here--"

"C'mon. Are the boys staying?" she pleads with him.

Sirius had already planned on it anyway, "Yes."

"Then I'll stay too."

"You should go home and see your parents--"

(y/n) rolls her eyes, "I'll have plenty of Christmases with them in the future. C'mon, I'll get Regulus to stay too. We'll make a whole ordeal out of it on the twenty-fourth." It's tempting to let her throw away her plans for him...

"Are you sure? I don't want to ruin your break--"

"You'd hardly be ruining my break, honest." 

Remus can't help but succumb to her generous offer, "Okay. If you're sure."

(y/n)'s face visibly brightens when he agrees, "of course, I'm sure." 

***

"I had fun," she's got her arm hooked with his, snuggled up close as they walk back to the castle.

"Me too," Remus glances down at her. Her lovely smile, directed towards him, makes him feel like he's won some sort of lottery. 

"It's no Hogsmeade, but... do you want to study in the library with me this week?" she asks.

"You've completely stolen my heart already," he laughs.

[jhoudiey]

The Debutante Ball is here!

There's dancing! Intrigue! ..uhhh..whatever the fuck else happens at balls. Introduce a new OC, and borrow a few from @twistedikon and @walpurga-nacht-academy no warnings 3450 words ____________________________________ “Got your key?!” Crowley chirped when they met him in the hallway near the door. Yoru rolled her eyes and pulled it from the waistband of her dress. “Oho! Look at you two! You match! How cute!!” She scoffed, uncomfortably aware how close in colour her dress was to Floyd's hair. “But we really must be off! If we’re late, Miss Astoria will be most mad at me, and I don’t want to spend the night getting yelled at!”

He marched off through the front door, Yoru and Floyd following along behind him. When they arrived at WNA, Crowley flying off to meet with the other staff to discuss the speeches they’d be giving. Yoru and Floyd met up with her RSA date near the front entrance to the manor.

“Floyd, this is Floyd” she gestured from one to the other, wondering why in the world she had invited a second Floyd to be her date, this was going to get convoluted. Floyd Leech looked down at his RSA counterpart, he must have been at least 30cms shorter than he was and at least that wider around. Floyd raised his eyebrow at Yoru and grinned, wondering what could have possessed her to invite a short, fat, blonde and blue haired boy as her date two years in a row.

“Ah Yoru-san! It’s nice to see you again! It’s nice to meet you, Floyd! I’m Floyd Dürer! Pleased to make your acquaintance!” He held out his hand, beaming at Floyd waiting for him to shake his hand. Floyd grinned and grabbed it, perhaps too hard and shook it wildly.

“Hiya Kinchakudai-chan. Nice to meet you ehe~” He showed off his teeth and the shorter Floyd quickly withdrew his hand and held out his arm for Yoru

“S-shall we go?” Yoru nodded, taking his arm, grabbing onto the taller Floyd's hand and dragging him along with them. It wouldn’t be good if she lost him before they even arrived, she was already dreading how he was going to act since she expected he’d be bored in under 10 minutes.

“After you!” Floyd gestured to the door for Yoru to unlock to take them to the mansion where the ball was to be held.

“Eeeh? We get to use a secret door? Cool!” Floyd Leech was so far entertained, Yoru hoped his mood kept up for a few hours but could never be sure what would set him off and put him in a bad mood.

They quickly spotted Jade seated at a table with Amity, Yoru's fellow second year at WNA and a student from RSA she didn’t know. Floyd skipped over to the table, dragging Yoru and Floyd behind him.

“Nee, Jade, Look! Another Floyd!” he laughed, pointing at the other boy as he made himself comfortable in the seat nearest Jade. Floyd Dürer smiled, and raised his hand as a greeting with a smile.

“Hello! It’s nice to meet you, I hope we all have a good evening!” He pulled out Yoru’s chair for her and waited for her to sit down before taking a seat for himself. Yoru had gone with him to the ball in her first year, he was one of the few students who hadn’t found a date before the deadline and she hadn’t wanted to bother searching and took whoever was available. Surprisingly she found they got along, he was a bit too sweet and naive for her, but he was pleasant enough.

She chuckled to herself thinking about the differences between the two boys she’d brought with her. The Floyd to her left was chatting animatedly to Jade, Amity, and her RSA date Xavier, laughing loudly, not caring who he may be irritating with the volume of his voice. On her right, Floyd sat quietly, looking around the room taking in the atmosphere waiting for the speeches to start, she found every time he looked at her he averted his eyes from her chest and quickly looked away.

The chatter around the room dulled as the speeches began, Yoru’s battle with Floyd just beginning. Shortly after they started, he had started loudly complaining that it was boring and he wanted to dance, she hurried to shush him hoping that the sounds didn’t carry to the front of the room. She was glad they were seated near the back and that it was unlikely anyone of consequence heard his whining. They spent the entire 20 minutes of the speeches locked in a whispered battle of him complaining, and her trying to get him to be quiet and to just suck it up. Jade grinned from his seat, clearly having more fun watching them argue as quietly as possible rather than listening to the heads of the schools talking about unity, longevity and whatever else they were rambling on about.

After the speeches were finished there was a smattering of applause, and the smaller Floyd held his hand out to her

“shall we go dance? I even made my pants talon-proof this year so you don’t need to worry about stepping on me again!” He laughed, waiting for her to take his hand. Yoru grabbed it but found she wasn’t able to stand. She had started panicking, thinking of last year’s ball where she spent the evening tripping over herself trying to learn the proper steps. Floyd had been very patient with her and hadn’t minded that she managed to shred both her dress and his pants every time she overstepped by accident.

“Um… I think I need something to eat first..” She muttered, dropping his hand and striding towards the table laden with food, feeling less confident in her choice of clothing by the moment. She shouldn’t have let Floyd talk her into going. She felt someone uncomfortably close behind her and knew who it was before he even opened his mouth

“Hey Fugu-chan, is this ball always this boring? I didn’t think it would be so stuffy” Floyd asked, plucking a tart off her plate and dropping it into his mouth. She glowered at him, adding more food to her plate while slapping his hand away from further thievery.

“Get your own plate” She complained, turning back to the table. There were already couples dancing on the floor, she looked on with envy wishing she had their grace. She was only ever graceful in the air, but her wings hadn’t fully grown back yet so at best she could manage an awkward lopsided flutter.

She’d barely finished eating when the polite Floyd offered his hand, another offer to dance. She reached for his hand again before it was pulled away by the more insistent Floyd.

“Come on Fugu-chan! Dance with me instead!!” He dragged her to the middle of the dance floor where he paid no mind to the other dancers, nor the music and threw his body around wildly, spinning her whenever he had the chance.

“Floyd, would you stop? Everyone is looking at us!” She growled at him, trying to hold him in place. He glared at her

“Huuuuuh? We’re supposed to dance, so I’m dancing, don’t know why you have a problem with it” he wretched free of her grip and continued to writhe around, bumping into everyone around them.

“Floyd! You can’t just do anything you want here, I could get in trouble if you cause a scene, cut the shit!” He frowned at her and stopped dancing, crossing his arms.

“If you didn’t want me to dance why’d you even invite me?” he complained. Yoru stared at him, wishing she could just throw him in the lake like she usually would.

“You can dance, just… do it properly. I don’t wanna get thrown out. The headmistress is really strict” She sighed, hoping that he’d listen to her this time. He sighed dramatically

“whatever Fugu-chan, this is boring anyway” he sulked and lumbered off the dance floor, sitting back down at the table they’d started from.

“Umm Yoru, would you like to dance?” A soft voice from behind her asked, she turned and saw the shorter Floyd carefully avoiding his view at eye level. She nodded and took his hand

“Thanks. I haven’t really practiced so sorry in advance” she grimaced at him and looked down at her feet, trying to follow his lead. After a few dances she was starting to get more comfortable, and her nerves began to fade. There were more couples dancing now, and they were more easily lost in the crowd, so she suspected fewer people would see her stumble. Floyd glared at the pair of them from where he sat hunched at their table.

“This is so booooorrrriiiinnnggggg” Floyd complained to himself. He was alone at the table, Jade was dancing with Amity somewhere in the center of the room, Xavier had excused himself to another table in the meantime, Azul was busy dancing too and would make him do all sorts of boring work if he interrupted. He sighed glancing around the room for something to do. He spotted Riddle dancing with some bunny girl across the room and had half a thought to go harass him before he remembered what Yoru had said about him getting her in trouble by causing a scene. He grumbled loudly and looked around the room for someone else he could bother, spotting Idia and Vita in the back corner of the room. Perfect.

“Hotaru Ika senpaiiiiiiiiii” He sang, flopping himself down at their table “entertain me, Yoru told me I couldn’t dance anymore” Vita glared at him as Idia fidgeted with his hands, he never really knew what to do with Floyd. He really wasn’t sure how Yoru put up with him all the time, he was so hard to deal with. When he didn’t answer Floyd turned to Vita

“Shiromakajiki- chan why aren’t you dancing? Do you not know how? I can show you” She sighed and continued to glare at him

“pray tell, don’t you have anyone else to prattle on to? We aren’t interested in your company” He pouted at her

“Too bad, everyone else is dancing and I’m bored. So do you need me to teach you? You do look like you don’t know how…” She scoffed at his accusation

“Scurry along now, won’t you, I wish to spend the evening with my husband and you’re interrupting”

“husband?” Floyd asked, raising an eyebrow at Idia “I didn’t know you were married, Hotaru Ika senpai! How did that happen, you’re such a shut in!” Idia chuckled a little, and scratched his head

“umm… you know.. We’re not actually… umm” He withered under Vitas stare, she sat up in her chair, fixing Floyd with the coldest gaze she could manage, bristling at the insult to Idia.

“Has the bird tired of you already? I know she hesitated to bring you in the first place, and now I see why” Floyd looked at her, confused.

“What do you mean she didn’t want to bring me?” he pouted. Vita laughed in his face.

“Oh, did Birdy not tell you that everyone else she inquired about in the first place had already secured a date and that you were her last choice? How tragic, the eel doesn’t even know he’s unwanted” She sneered at him, waiting for him to crumble before her. He glared at her as she waved him away as if he were nothing more than a gnat. Floyd sighed and wandered away from the table, he looked over to the dance floor and saw Yoru dancing with the other Floyd, they were laughing and seemed to be having a good time, they were perfectly fine without him.

Floyd walked out onto the balcony, his mood soured. Why had she even invited him if she didn’t want to? He launched himself over the bannister of the balcony and swung himself down into the garden to wander. Everyone was too busy tonight to entertain him, he found himself really lonely despite there being people peppered everywhere outside. He wondered if Jade and Azul thought he was a burden on them too, or if it was just Yoru.

Floyd walked through the garden until he came to a small pond, crouching at the edge to throw small stones across it, lost in thought. It had been nearly an hour before Yoru had ventured out to the garden to find him. She had seen him leave, but had almost mastered the foxtrot and wanted to make sure she had the steps right before asking him to dance. She knew he was more likely to make fun of her for a misstep, so she’d made sure it was perfect before being confident enough to track him down to ask.

“What are you doing out here? I learned a dance, come on” She said, gesturing back towards the mansion. He sighed and shook his head,

“was I really your last choice, Fugu-chan?” he pouted, refusing to look at her. She tilted her head, confused. Where in the world was this coming from.

“Huh? I…oh... I guess you were, though not like I really asked many people. Come on though, you said you wanted to dance earlier so I learned one” she held out her hand to him, he pushed it away before standing up to look down on her.

“You're acting really weird tonight Fugu-chan, I don’t like it” she took a half step back from him, annoyed that she’d spent the last hour trying to learn a dance so he wouldn’t be bored but he ignored her offer.

“Excuse me?” she snapped, perhaps a little too quickly “what do you mean I’m acting different?” Floyd glared at her and crossed his arms,

“you’re being all stuck up and stuff. It’s not like you” she took a step back towards him

“stuck up how? Because I don’t want you to get me kicked out of school?” He held his ground against her advance

“yea. Since when do you care about stuff like that?” he complained

“since i was able to get into the school I’ve wanted to attend since I was a kid and I don’t want you to ruin it? I’m already on thin ice here so you can’t just do whatever you want and not worry about any consequences because it doesn’t affect you!”

“haaaah? how would I ruin it?” Before long they were standing inches apart arguing, one breath away from shouting at each other.

“The way you act! You can’t just do whatever you want wherever you are, don’t you realize the problems you cause for people? I know you’re not that dumb, so unless you’re actually stupid you have to be doing it on purpose, right?” She shouted at him

“Eeeeeeh? I just wanna have fun! You’re the idiot out here looking and acting like some lame human following all the boring customs and rules! Its so lame!”

“WHAT?” she shrieked “I’m only here because you guilted me into it, I didn’t even want to come!”

“so why did you?!”

“You conned me into it when I hadn’t slept in 3 days! How the hell was I supposed to fight back? Not all of us are perfect like you, Floyd!”

“Eh? Who said anything about being perfect! You just need to be you,Fugu-chan, not this weird stuck up wannabe human!”

“Well sorry I’m not living up to your expectations, I’ll make sure I go back to hating myself and this stupid fucking dress. Is that what you want?”

“Heeeeeeeeh? Are you stupid?I just said -”

“It doesn’t matter what you said, I know what you meant! This whole night is a joke to you! I’m a joke to you!”

“ What? Do your ears not work, Fugu-chan? What do you expect me to say? That you do look like an idiot in your dress and that you’re pathetic for even pretending? Is that what you want to hear? Huh?”

She lunged and him and grabbed him by his shirt collar

“say it again. I dare you.” he grabbed onto her wrist and pried her hand off of his shirt, making sure to squeeze as hard as possible. He could feel her bones grinding together as he dragged her closer to him so he could stare into her face fully to repeat himself.

“I said you look stupid, Fugu-chan. Who the hell are you trying to fool looking like this? You’re never going to be human so why do you keep pretending? Just give up already”. Rage flared in her stomach and her eyes burned, she forgot where they were for a moment as she moved to attack Floyd with her free hand.

“YORU! Miss Astoria will be most displeased if you get blood all over her lovely garden! Time to come back inside!” Crowley had landed beside them and caught her hand before she could strike, tearing her away from Floyd and dragging her back into the ballroom.

“Now, I don't know what Mr. Floyd Leech-kun said, but that’s no reason to attack him! And Nugget, going for his throat… while that is normally an excellent striking point, I can’t have you murdering my students, please keep that in mind!” she wretched herself from his grasp and nearly walked directly into the other Floyd.

“Ah Yoru-san! I …. Are you okay?” He noticed the look on her face and reached for his handkerchief.

“I’m fine” She muttered, trying to push past him to get herself to the exit as soon as possible. Unfortunately, the most anticipated and largest waltz of the night had started and the room was full of couples dancing and weaving through the room, making an escape difficult.

“Here, I’ll dance you to the exit. This one is easy enough, just follow my lead” Floyd said to her gently, steering them towards the exit. Yoru focused on her feet, letting herself be dragged along by the shorter boy.

“Umm, I’m sorry for saying this, but we heard you two in the garden…” She gave him a half glance in panic, he looked at her with sad eyes. “Everyone outside heard, your voices carried so loudly… I’m sorry Yoru-san. Is there anything I can do to help?”

She shook her head furiously, tears streaming down her face as she refused to look at him. Everyone knew. She knew that she was a fraud but had told herself that somehow everything would turn out alright, she should have known that Floyd was right and she looked like a fool. Despite her best efforts, she’d humiliated herself again, she just hoped that she wouldn’t get scolded by the headmistress. She didn’t think she’d be able to handle it, not tonight.

They danced nearer and nearer the exit, Floyd squeezing her hand gently in an effort to comfort her. When they reached the door he made sure to give her his handkerchief so that she would be able to dry her eyes when she needed to. He watched her rush from the room and out the door as Floyd Leech glared at them from a back table.

He’d slinked back into the ballroom shortly after their argument and watched her dance across the room wanting to chase after her, but Crowley was nearby and likely to stop them. That was no fun. He didn’t like seeing her with the other Floyd, even if she was mad at him it should have been him she was dancing with. They argued all the time and it was always fine in the end, he didn’t know why she was so angry this time. This is just what they did. They bickered but always laughed about it afterwards. She didn’t laugh this time though. He sighed wondering if he’d finally gone too far and she was going to stop being his friend now, that seemed to be how things usually went for him.

When Yoru returned home she tore the dress from her body, sequins falling to the floor. She caught a glance of herself in the mirror in the closet and screamed. She couldn’t even look at herself, why had she ever thought that tonight would be okay despite how she looked. She was a joke, and no amount of pretty clothing or makeup would change that. She wretched the mirror off the wall, dragged it to the upper landing and threw it down the stairs. She repeated the process with the mirror in the bathroom, she was done looking at her disgusting bird body. Floyd was right. She was never going to be human. Never. He was right. She collapsed to the floor, lost herself in the knowledge she was and always would be a failure.

[valkyrieofsmut]

How would the boys of reacted if mc had a kid already but the dad skipped out so she’s now trying to take care of them with their current situation?

It took a while to think about this and come up with an answer for everyone, but I think I’ve got it. Current, I’m taking as RIGHT NOW in the story. But there’s also a future (more relationship-y) answer I’ll try to give. 

Classic- Oh, hey, a kid. He’s just accepted the kid into the plans with everything else. Give head ruffles and jokes, is the basic hilarious prankster uncle that is always the favorite of the kids. MC’s kid gravitates to him, and after getting to know him and checking him out, MC is fine with this, as long as he’s not doing crazy, dangerous stuff, or things that could hurt her kid. 

When things start to get Serious™, Classic starts to think of the kid as his own, probably without even realizing it at first. He’ll just wake up one day and stretch, getting ready for work, wondering why it feels weird that the kid isn’t running around like he’s trying to break the sound barrier, like his brother used to when he was getting his coffee in the morning… When he realizes that he’s totally fallen for MC, it makes so much sense! Of course he’d think of the kid as his; that’s what happens when you have a mate; you have kids with them! And, additionally, if that worthless deadbeat ever tries to come around looking for his kid, claiming some sort of “parental rights” that ass is going to get a lesson in family. Because it doesn’t matter where the sperm for the kid came from, which he’ll gladly remove the source of, if he ever comes back, but who loves and cares for them, nurturing them as they grow. 

Creampuff- A child, oh, yes, those happen! Wait… where is the other parent? He what?! Well… excuse him for a moment… there are some shrubbery that need… yelling at- yes, it helps them grow! And when he gets back, you have now unlocked mother hen Creampuff, and if she didn’t get constant pictures and updates of what they were up to, MC might worry that her kid had been kidnapped… 

Creampuff may not be interested in the making of kids, the physical way, anyway, but this kid is his, now, and he’s ready to be a parent! He’s not sure how he feels about a romantic relationship, though… maybe he and MC can just work it out like a split custody situation, like he’s seen at work! Except they won’t have to go to the police station to exchange the kid. What wonderful parents the two of them are, already!

Red- heh… a kid… Wow… Red knows how to be a dad, and even has some confidence at what to do, but… the other stuff… makes him kinda nervous. What do you say to a kid whose mom you want to bang until the sun explodes? Ha- definitely not that. It takes some time, but after he gets used to the kid and relaxes a little, he’s already acting like a parent, like he did for Edge. He’s used to it being dangerous, so he’s going to make sure the kid is ok. And teach them all sorts of cool stuff. If you start them young enough, they’ll have insanely high levels of comprehension as they get older! MC better be ready for her kid to be learning advanced mechanics- as in, you know those hoverboards? Not the stupid ones that have wheels and catch fire- the ones that actually hover, like that one movie! Yep… that’s going to probably be the goal for her kid’s senior year science fair project… better get started on it now...

When stuff gets serious, Red isn’t going to be able to keep his hands to himself- honestly, sweetheart, we gotta get on makin’ that kid a sibling. been too long wit’out one a’ready… though i know ya were jus’ waitin’ on me ta cum along- heh heh! Red’s “dad mode” is activated, and well… if anything, that… actually might just make MC see things Red’s way about needing a sibling for her kid… He’s just so… parental… it stirs something primal that looks for the ideal mate… Yeah… she’s not going to stand a chance. 

Edge- Ugh- another one?! A small one?! SIGH! Well, he may act like a hardass, but, he values childhood, and remembers how rough his was, despite Red trying to make sure he got the best of one he could afford without letting him be in danger. So he may act like he’s irritated and annoyed with MC’s kid, but he’s actually very flattered if they follow him around, and he may do things particularly slowly and demonstratively so they can learn by watching. He may also leave candies or treats for them… And, when the kid shows to have learned something from him- of course he’s going to act offended at the thought that he actually meant to help them! But the pride and affection he’s radiating is poorly hidden. He also won’t let anyone touch them, though it’ll be “JUST BECAUSE YOU’RE TOO WEAK TO ATTACK ME DOES NOT MEAN YOU CAN ATTACK A CHILD!”

When things get serious, he will finally officially take the kid under his wing and- holy shit, had she thought that he was secretly training her kid before?! Now Edge is always talking, teaching how to do something, showing new things, and standing at her side as he urges their kid to show off what he taught them. He is full of pride, chest puffed out to the max. If anyone implies that his child doesn’t meet any standards- he’s going to have to “have a talk” with them- a terrifying talk, where that person might just have to change their clothes after, because- how does someone get so scared that they get waste matter on their shirt? Who knows, Edge certainly doesn’t. He’s never seen that happen before… twice, from the same person, anyhow. 

Blue- He’s not phased by the fact that she has a kid. She’s amazing, who wouldn’t want to mate her?! Wait… her kid’s other parent did what?! It’s alright- neither of them has to worry about anything, now, not while he’s there! He’s already taken to playing with the kid, loving that they’re as energetic as he is, loves driving with them on his bike- yes, he’ll make them wear a helmet, and sit in front of him if they can’t hold on tight enough, but they still get to feel the amazing freedom. 

When things finally get serious, he really doesn’t change, except that he says “GO ASK YOUR MOM” less and takes on more parental responsibilities. He is their parent now- oh stars, he’s their parent, now! He talks to Stretch a lot; he knows how to be an amazing datemate, and mate, but a parent?! Stretch assures him that he hasn’t messed up the kid enough for it to be noticeable yet, so that’s a good sign. Blue gets irritated and spends a lot of time asking MC if she thinks he’s doing the right things, but when she tells him that he’s been acting like a great dad the whole time already, and that he hasn’t messed up anything majorly, yet, he realizes that being a parent is more about doing what’s best for the kid, and less about doing everything “right”. He then begins the campaign for another kid. “DON’T GET ME WRONG! I LOVE OUR CHILD DEARLY, BUT… I WANT MORE KIDS… THEY NEED SIBLINGS TO RUN AND PLAY WITH! … Don’t Worry, Dove, I’d Never Leave You And Our Children Like That Unlucky Moron Did. He Just Couldn’t See How Lucky He Was To Have Two People As Amazing As You In His Life… But I’ll Never Forget. I Think About It Every Day, Already, Actually.” 

Stretch- He has a very serious and very strict “eh” policy about kids. Cool, a kid. Nothing about this situation changes how he acts in the least. Just another person around, though he’s maybe not the person the kid should hang around with, at his own admission. “don’t want ‘em growin’ up to be lazy like me, do ya?” But he won’t turn them away if they want to play games or hang out and take a nap for a bit. 

If Stretch has already gotten to the point where he’s thinking about being serious with MC, he’s going to take her kid into consideration, too. It wasn’t awful being a stand in parent for Blue, and he’d probably make a pretty good uncle, but… he’s not sure he’s got it in him to do it again… but for MC- what the hell, he’ll give it a shot. He’s not going to mess them up too badly, after all; he’s not doing it alone this time! And now he has someone to teach the inner workings of what he does at work- no, it’s not because he’s lazy and wants someone to do his job for him! … ok, that thought may have come up when he decided to teach ‘em- but only for a second! His job skills are important, and will give the kid lots of opportunities when they get older- even if it’s just to start working as his assistant and make things easier on himself, he’ll be up to date and able to take over one day. Stretch will be a proud papa that day, just the same as he was when they graduated top of their class at MIT. Can you- can you believe he actually had a hand in- in building that person…? It’s so surreal… and beautiful… 

Black- Hmm… his pet has a young one already… but he doesn’t scent any other humans on her… Ah, that’s why- Wait- what?! NO, NO, NO, LOVE, YOU MUST BE MISTAKEN, YOU SEE, YOU TOLD ME THAT THIS MORONIC, INSIGNIFICANT WORM IS STILL ALIVE SOMEWHERE! HE IS… YOU DIDN’T KILL HIM FOR BETRAYING YOU?! WHY, LOVE- YOU’RE TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD… WOULD YOU LIKE HIS HEAD ON A PIKE FOR A WOOING GIFT? NO? ALRIGHT, SUIT YOURSELF, PET. He just is absolutely stunned that someone so stupid could exist. But, there is no accounting for taste, he supposes. MC and her child are in his care, now, and that means they receive all of the benefits that entitles them to. If the worm comes back- he’s not going to play nice- he’ll show them exactly what they missed out on when they left his family behind to pursue whatever had caught his fancy. 

He’s already acting like a mate and father by the time things get serious, and he is very proud of how smart his child is, but not surprised- after all, they did come from MC’s loins, and were tutored by him. This just shows how great any children they have together will be, and… maybe they should have them now? He’s always heard that you shouldn’t have a large gap between kids, as it can lead to discord in the ranks. Yes, now would be a fine time to start… NOW TELL ME, LOVE, HOW MANY WERE YOU THINKING? WE SHOULD PLAN THIS OUT SO THEY ARE SPACED PERFECTLY AND WE CAN GIVE THEM ALL THE UTMOST TRAINING AND AFFECTION. 

Mutt- Oh, a kid? Hm… Interesting… he guesses. He really skulks around a bit more before he comes over to hang around MC. It’s not that he’s afraid of the kid or doesn’t like them, he just really doesn’t want to be interrupted while he’s trying to get some time with MC. He also doesn’t want to scar them for life by them walking in on him with their mom in all sorts of compromising positions! All sorts of them. Wherever they happen to be… Really, he’s being considerate. 

Mutt, in the future, when things are serious, and MC already has a kid? Cool. Pretty much nothing changes. Everything is the same, except that now that MC is his, so is the kid. So he’s going to keep a socket on them like he did his bro. And he’s going to make sure that no one messes with them. They’re going to turn out very loved and very confident, and very, very safe. Mutt may disappear sometimes, but he always comes back, and when he does he usually seems pleased; kid’s doin’ great. made some new friends. And let me tell you something… If this boy ever meets the douchebag that donated sperm for his kid- he’ll say thanks. And explain all of the accomplishments the two have made without him, bragging how amazing the kid turned out without him. Right before he beats the shit out of him. 

(as a side note, I was inspired by Mutt’s little section in this post by @tyranttortoise, and have something planned much like this… yay!) 

Axe- When he first saw her, his plan was solid; food for his brother. When she used her cleverness and wits and fought to stay alive, he had a bit of respect for her, though he didn’t think it would help her. When she managed to get him and his brother to go back to the camper and he could smell the other scent, knew there was a small human hiding and locked away in the cab of the truck, even though he couldn’t find them, and she was giving them her food to go away- giving up their food to throw off attention and protect her young… it struck a chord with him about how he was protecting his brother, and- well damn… he just couldn’t eat her now! 

After that, when they went around with the bros, she always had that protective front up, never going to let her child be hurt, and… damn it… it just made him like her more. When the boys were reminded that humans can’t survive in the cold, Axe went to collect them, and found that she was even sharing the blanket nest- giving her own heat to keep her child safe and… fuck… he’s pretty sure he’s fallen, but he’s going to resist this weird feeling as hard as he can! Then, when she’s helped and provided for them, his brother, and him, in addition to her child, even though they did what they could to pool resources… He’s a lot more apt to be violent if the others come by and try to take her. She is their human, her child is their child now, and he will kill anyone who tries to mess with them. When the humans move to the lodge, he’s up there, every day, takes the kid out, shows them around, is very sure to have them back for lunch and dinner, teaches them everything he can so they can be strong and take care of and defend themself. Her kid is offended that Axe makes them wear one of those leash backpack type things tied to him, until Axe explains that it’s for him, so he doesn’t get lost from them, then, being MC’s kid, and seeing the example of how to take care of others their whole life, they understand, and Axe is greatly amused at the tiny version of her he now has running around with him. MC is very surprised at all of the hunting, trapping, and survival stuff her kid has learned with Axe, and is super proud of that smart little squirt! And so is Axe. Proud as a dad. Which is what he is when things are serious. He is a proud dad. 

Crooks/Bun- Oh, poor Bun is distraught when he finds out. You Mean That FIrst Night When You Gave Us Your Food, You Were Doing It To Protect Your Baby?! SANS! YOU ABSOLUTE CAD! HOW COULD YOU?! He takes the little human under his metaphorical wing and tries to teach them all the fun stuff he knows, like puzzles! And how to tie all sorts of pretty knots! And useful ones as well. He remembers what it was like when he was a baby bones and Sans did his best to keep his life fun, innocent, and worry free, let him have a childhood instead of having to grow too early, or, really at all, until everything hit the metaphorical fan… He will reenforce your claim to be camping, inviting you to stay with them and claim that you just chose a bad year to camp here, trying to do the same for your kid not to disillusion them. It’s No Trouble, Really! Your Mom Is A Great Mother, And You Are Both Such Wonderful Friends Of Ours, We Want You To Have Fun On With Us On Your Vacation, Too! 

When the others come, he will keep them away, far away from the cabin. He didn’t want her to know, but he would be heartbroken if he let her kid’s image of her fall one tiny bit. Yes, talk all you need to, but let’s do it far, far out here- how about in the road?! How about at the lodge?! Not Here, Where The Baby Might Hear! He feels like his nest is empty when they move to the lodge, and is up there every day, helping to cook and clean, being the mother hen he used to be, and feeling absolutely overjoyed to have a little one to tend to! And the fact that she asks him to take care of the baby when she has to go do something, or needs a moment to herself makes his magic sing! Life is so wonderful right now! And no, he doesn’t care how old the kid is, or how many times anyone says anything- they can almost fit in only his two hands! (you know, depending on how far apart he holds them.) And any young that small must be a baby! Luckily he doesn’t try to spoon feed them. That could be a fight, depending on the kid’s personality. When things move to the point where it would be considered “dating” or “Seriously Dating” he’s glad to have this child with her. He loves them both very much. 

Dusty- The first time he met her, he didn’t know, so he had no opinion, though he’ probably be thinking about some exp, and thinking about pseudo revenge. But, after he’s gone off, found out what he needs to know and come back- 

A kid- oh fuck, a kid! No- no, that can’t be the same kid! They look different- he knows they do- shut up, Paps, he’s trying to think because he doesn’t want to do something wrong! That’s the human’s kid! Yes! That’s right! Ok! Ok. Ok… ok, he’s ok now. He’s very anxious around MC’s kid because he’s afraid that he’s going to freak out, flashback, and attack. He is very careful to always have someone else around when he’s with the kid. Someone that can either get the kid out of there, or kick his ass to stop him. He’s very nervous about if things get serious, and fights it, actually, not wanting anyone to count on him being around, because… he’s afraid that things will fall apart in the worst way possible. 

Ask Masterlist?

[painted-crow]

Submission Time #14

Submission about secondary

Hi, Paint! I was wondering if you ever had time, could you please help and give your thoughts on my secondary?

I guess my quiz results really depend on my mood, on a bad mood I can get a bird or snake, on good mood – a badger secondary. I rarely get a lion secondary, and I’m strangely calm about it, it would really be funny if I’d be a double burned lion but evidence shows that’s probably not the case. Also, I’m sorry for all the mistakes I will be making and the ones I didn’t notice, and this is so long, I’m sorry. I will shamefully copy the other submission style, so if it’s wrong pls just ignore me.

Not a problem! I'm the one who suggested that people use it :)

When you succeed, how influential in that success were the people around you? – I don’t know for sure, and I might be ungrateful here, but I think I’m still the one making the calls and thinking about stuff. Sure, I ask for help and opinion, support, but I’m still the one who has to do the thing. But it’s true I should probably pay more respect and gratitude to the ones who are there for me.

This suggests you aren't a Courtier Badger by nature. Doesn't yet rule out Bookkeeper style Badger, though.

Do people consider you charismatic? / Do people consider you trustworthy? – Eh, maybe. I love that there is a possibility to choose such an answer. Charisma for me is a tool, a mask, while for being trustworthy, some people do, some would like that I’d be more of it, I think people’s opinions on what that is can really differ. I’ve always read that people can’t trust a Gemini, that they have long and loose tongues, one day I decided that will never be me, no matter what others say.

Basically everything I know about astrology is either Homestuck or LavenderTowne's "drawing the signs as cute characters" videos on YouTube 😆 but as a Cancer who does not fit most of the Cancer description, rest assured I will not judge you for this :p

Describing charisma as a "tool" suggests it might be part of a Snake model or a skill you've picked up through Bird.

Do people consider you flexible? – No. Things have to be the way I want them to be. Stupid, problematic, not realistic, I know.

Haha, maybe Bird xD or maybe Bookkeeper Badger. This is a Built secondary answer.

Do you like going into situations with a plan? – Here‘s the thing about my plans – they are small, not really fleshed out. I do like to be prepared, but I do not seek out to be, because usually no matter how much I prepare I feel that it still is heavily not enough so it’s almost the same as just diving in and doing whatever.

Rapid fire Bird with Snake model? Or perhaps the other way around. It sounds from your last answer like this isn't the kind of situation you feel most comfortable in.

Not all Birds like to plan. I for one am a "hoard all the skills and resources" style Bird, and don't tend to plan very much for individual situations, especially ones that change quickly. If I were to prepare for something like that, it would be gathering knowledge about the situation in advance, rather than deciding how to respond based on probably-inaccurate expectations.

Still, this makes it sound a bit like you don't trust Bird, or at least not the planning form of Bird.

When you spot a metaphorical obstacle in your path, what do you do? – This one is the one that always makes me think Am I a snake secondary? If there’s a problem that maybe could arise, why would you not find another way around? Face it? Understand it? Pfffff…. It’s so much stress and trouble, just go around it if you can. If not, well, yeah, I’d just face it head on I guess.

How do you feel about shortcuts? – Well, if it means landscapes shortcuts – love them. In life and situations – no. It feels unstable, unsafe. If there is a way you need to do things, I will do it the right way. I might cut ways in small and not that important ways, but no more.

See, these two questions have me really considering Bookkeeper Badger for you, and I'm starting to understand why you're confusing the quiz so much.

I think the quiz considers these to be kind of opposite answers--just getting around a problem rather than solving it might be considered a shortcut. This is the kind of issue you get with abstract questions, but the problem is that concrete questions are rarely ambiguous enough to serve the right purpose. This is also why I suggest sending me quiz questions--because you're allowed to elaborate, and I interpret your answers differently from the computer. :)

Do you like to gather all possible information before making a decision? – Yeah, I do gather information, research, but at a certain point you just have to dive in, as another person said.

You might have a Bird model? Or you might even be burned Bird, because you don't not use Bird but you don't seem to trust it much or see it as worth relying on.

Is knowing things or knowing people more useful when solving problems? – I really don’t know how to answer this one. Intuitively, without thinking, I’d say things, but there are so much BUTs. Maybe it’s because I always had problems in social situations, that I’m very reserved, cold and shy so I don’t build relationships that could be called like that? Obviously it’s more useful to have someone help you and teach you how to do stuff, like legal documents, mechanics, computer engineering or other stuff that is hard to understand and boring to me or things that I don’t have resources to do. When I go to people asking for help, I ask because I know they can help, I don’t just go to my community, to my people asking IF anyone could help. I don’t know, this question for me is really painful. A simple answer would be people. Like if I’d think about building a house or a van to live in, it would be more useful to know someone who knows how to do these things then knowing how to do it myself. I’d miss so much details by myself. But then why I still want to press Things?

Huh, that's interesting. Especially interesting that you describe this as painful--like, it really matters to you.

You might be a burned Bird with a Badger model that's almost totally Bookkeeper style--which, if that Badger is a model, it would make perfect sense why it relies so heavily on one aspect of that secondary.

You don't seem very Snakey to me so far. The "get around the obstacle" thing is the quiz's Snake answer, and charisma (even as a tool) isn't Snake exclusive either.

When your plan fails, what do you do? – This question always makes me smile, because my answer is 1. I don’t plan, BUT if I did have a plan that failed, if it was that important; 2. I panic; 3. Then, I calm down and improvise like my life depends on it.

Huh. I don't know if this points to anything in particular...

Do you collect things? – No? I collect books that I actually liked, even if I will never read them again, I want to have them around. I have a couple of diplomas, but it’s just because I couldn’t decide or couldn’t see myself in that career. I maybe collect plants. Other than maybe these things, I don’t really feel like I collect anything.

And here again the bird secondary shows up. I really don’t see it with my inability to plan and prepare for things. I feel unprepared for everything and too bored and not intrigued enough to prepare.

Oddly enough, this really makes me wonder if you're a Bird, specifically burned. This isn't just a neutral "yeah I don't really use it," it sounds actually sad and negative: you don't feel able to use it, you feel bored and unprepared. It sounds like you've tried, like you wish you could use it... but it's just not there for you.

Do you study or plan excessively for things that aren’t useful?... – Plan – no. Study – yes. I’m one of those people who has started a new hobby in the pandemic, which involves studying I guess. And it absolutely has nothing to do with being useful, I just love it, so I guess yes. To me it has a purpose, I guess.

You do seem to study a lot. You read books, which not everyone does. You have multiple diplomas. But they're a background element in your life, you were saying.

Do you think of relationships as something you invest in?... – Yes. I think we all invest in relationships, and in the smallest we at least expect that person to be with us, to support us if we had a hard day or a hard time. I do not invest in relationships with people because they can do stuff for me, do that or let me in there or here, or level me up in my career. That would be wrong, it’s not how you supposed to do it. But I’d still say that I think about this, about investing time and effort.

Badgers don't seem to like the idea of networking as a means of getting stuff, on the whole, even though that's how they get described because that's what people might see from the outside. (It's more like a Snake or sometimes a Bird to be okay with that description of their methods.)

I still think you have a lot of Bookkeeper to your secondary. I'm not sure if it's a strong model, or if your Bird is the model and it's just really burned anyway.

Do you act different in different groups? Does it bother you, if you do? – Yes, I think I probably do. It bothers me that I am thrown into a situation like that with people like that more than the fact that I act different. So it does bother me, but not in the way that the quiz authors intended that it should mean.

So, you only do this with certain groups where you don't feel safe. Again, I'm not getting a whole lot of Snake here?

So long as you know who you are, do you care what other people think? – Yes, absolutely. First, I don’t know who I am, sometimes, in certain situations, I can look inside myself and feel empty. It means I’m more ready to react to a situation than to show who I am, I guess. Secondly, what other people think about you can affect you, emotionally, or worst, actually in your physical life.

Okay. I think I might be getting this, finally.

Your secondary seems to be burned. It may be one of those cases where it's just burned, and you haven't recovered it or started up a strong model--this is part of the official SHC descriptions, that you can just burn your secondary and not have strong inclinations about it any more, you just do whatever works but none of it is very satisfying.

You get examples of this with characters pretty frequently, but with people it seems less common--you see a lot of models instead. I actually forgot that this was part of the SHC system until just now, but you can find a kind of not-super-comfortable stability in just... not having a secondary. This might be why you're getting hints of other secondaries, but it's hard to pin down anything strong enough for you to feel like you can claim it as yours.

I'd hazard that your secondary might have been Bird or Bookkeeper Badger before, and you have hints of both of those now. I lean towards Bird being your actual secondary and just extremely burned, and Bookkeeper being a bit of a model or performance you're kind of using but feel conflicted about.

In a pinch, you'll improvise or whatever, just anything that works, but it's not something you're very comfortable with. That's not the same thing as Snake, but I think it's why you're getting Snake results from the quiz.

Perhaps the reason you can't figure out your secondary, in short, is that it isn't there.

Thank you, and yes, please ignore me if it's annoying. Have a good time and be safe! 

Oof, I'm sorry that this isn't a cheerier result to hand you ^^; hugs! Hope you can find something that works for you soon.

[poor-wifi-uwu]

Aftermath of the Divorce!AU

What does he do now? The world will soon know the Yiling Patriarch has been cast away and is free game. Unfortunately, Mo Xuanyu’s face has become common knowledge as well, so he might be recognized wherever he goes. Even if he covered his face, both Chenqing and Suibian are too famous so he can’t use them either.

Haha, he never really thought about his infamy coming back to bite him in such a way. He can only imagine how much bullshit Lan Zhan had to go through to keep him safe.

…

The gaping hole within his chest grows with every heavy step away from what used to be his home. Haha, he should have gotten used to things like this already, didn’t he expect this from the beginning? Just leave the past in the past and look forward into the future!

What future. Where? The Jins will string him up the first chance they get unless A-Ling expends more effort than is reasonable for their relationship. Nie Huaisang is still sworn brothers with Lan Xichen and would probably find Wei Wuxian more trouble than he’s worth. Jiang Cheng…

He misses Lotus Pier. Desperately. Although their relationship is barely tolerant, maybe he could stay for just a few days until he calms down and sorts things out? One day? One hour?

Even just one minute.

“Sect Leader is busy.”

“Ah?” Wei wuxian blinked. He clearly heard Jiang Cheng in the training grounds just now. 

The Jiang disciple guard narrowed his eyes. The infamous Yiling Patriarch that killed the Jiang family, shamelessly coming to bother their Sect Leader who hates him so much. How dare he just waltz over here, thinking he can speak to Jiang Cheng whenever he wants.

Wei Wuxian just gave him a shaky grin, “Come on, can’t you just tell him I’m here? I’ll wait until he’s free!” The guard clicked his tongue and went to report. Wei Wuxian rearranged his smile into something brighter. It’s only expected to get treated this way after everything he did! It’s nothing personal. Well, it is, but he did this to himself. No hard feelings.

Wei Wuxian perked up at the sound of stomping footsteps coming closer. He waved as soon as the gate slammed open, “Hey, Jiang Cheng-”

“Deal with it yourself!”

Wei Wuxian’s smile froze, “Eh? I didn’t even say anything yet…”

Jiang Cheng huffed in irritation, “Some of us actually have work to do, so if you want to play then do it on your own damn time.”

Wei Wuxian slowly let his hand slip down to lightly grip the other one in comfort, “I’m… not here to play. I just wanted to stay for a little while. Not long! Just… some stuff happened, and-”

“Then just get an inn!”

Wei Wuxian’s hands began to tremble within his sleeves, “Aw, come one. Just one night!” Inns are kind of out of his budget right now, haha.

Jiang Cheng sighed deeply, “Don’t think you can just crawl back here when you two have some marital spat and expect me to put up with it.” Three years. It’s been three years since the Guanyin Temple incident, and not once has Wei Wuxian tried to visit Lotus Pier. Not even when passing through Yunmeng on his lovey-dovey travels with his husband. Did he think jiang Cheng wouldn’t know he was there? But of course, he only came to show “Lan Zhan” around. He never came to see Jiang Cheng. Even now, he’s only here because of Lan Wangji. When Wei Wuxian wants to visit the Ancestral Hall, or A-Jie’s room or Jiang Cheng, then maybe Jiang Cheng will humor him with that particular vacant room in the disciple’s quarters.

He snaps out of it just in time to see the smile finish slipping off Wei Wuxian’s face. His blank expression makes Jiang Cheng wonder if he went too far, but before he can say anything a small, soft smile curls up on Wei Wuxian’s face. His eyes are warm as he nods, “I understand, sorry to bother you.” Then with a fluid motion wei Wuxian turns around and walks away.

This… he should have expected this. Of course Jiang Cheng wouldn’t want him on Lotus Pier. Really, he’s gotten so arrogant. Just because Jiang Cheng tolerates him doesn’t erase Wei Wuxian’s crimes against Yunmeng Jiang. Haha, Lan Zhan really spoiled him, making Wei Wuxian forget who he really was. I mean, isn’t this why Lan Zhan divorced him? Because Wei Wuxian really wasn’t the person Lan Zhan had tried to convince them both he was? Lan Zhan was right. The Wei Wuxian he wanted to be… the bright, prodigious XianXian of Lotus Pier… that person died a very long time ago.

This person now, has always been just the Yiling Patriarch.

Jiang Cheng stands frozen watching Wei Wuxian’s retreating back. He thought (hoped) that he would surely keep pestering, whining until Jiang Cheng got fed up and just let him in to avoid the public spectacle. He should feel pissed that his time was just wasted over nothing, that Wei Wuxian really didn’t care enough to fight for a visit. Instead… watching that red ribbon fade into the crowd, Jiang Cheng feels like he lost something.

Forever.

Two days later he receives the news of the divorce. Just like his father Jiang Cheng runs out in the middle of a meeting to fly around searching for Wei Wuxian. Unlike his father, he doesn’t find him.

It was as hard as he thought. Truly, his reputation precedes him. 

Everytime Wei Wuxian found a nighthunt he could do, he had to hide from the other cultivators. He couldn’t use Chenqing at all, and had several close calls with Suibian. Even staying the night at his clients’ homes kept him up all night, ready for the slightest whisper of an ambush.

There’s no point to this. The Yiling Patriarch doesn’t belong among righteous cultivators. It’s time to give up that fantasy and find a secluded place to eek out the rest of his life, just like before.

Wei Wuxian sows up another worn tear in his frayed robes, shivering from a particularly cold gust of wind. He doesn’t have much time to waffle about this decision, he needs to find a good place to build his shack before the first snow.

The house isn’t perfect, but it has a roof and any holes can be patched up with some mud. It may be kinda cramped, but it’s his.

This, at least, is still his.

Wow, it’s been so long since he had pheasant. He’d almost forgotten how good it was! And to catch such a nice fat one with such a rudimentary bow and arrow, truly he amazes himself sometimes, haha.

It’d be nice if he had some spices though, so Lan Zhan could-

A smoked flavor is fine too.

It’s been a while since he’s seen another face. Though, for the Yiling Patriarch that should be a good thing right?

Maybe it’s been long enough that people started to forget his face?

How long has it been, anyway? He hopes he didn’t miss any of his kids’ special occasions.

Well, not that he could participate...

The pheasant tastes rather bland today.

Wei Wuxian isn’t hungry, but he knows he has to eat in case A-Yuan comes to visit.

A-Yuan is such a good kid, he’s far too filial even towards someone like him. If anyone, A-Yuan will come. And Wen Ning will definitely go with him. They could have a little family reunion, it’ll be great!

So he has to eat.

Wei Wuxian hasn’t been hungry in weeks. The results of his cultivation must be paying off for his inedia to advance to such a degree! His ribs have gotten a bit sharp, but it must be because this core isn’t as powerful as his first one. You can’t expect the effects to be the same!

Wei Wuxian went to a nearby town to buy a new pot. Normally he would find a way to make do without or patch it up, but he’d already done that before and this was the last one.

Face wrapped in scrap fabric, Wei Wuxian shuffled through the alleys, keeping to the shadows and pausing whenever a group of people pass.

As he was paying for his pot with his few precious coin, Wei Wuxian heard some cultivators speaking, “-and then he cleaned up the entire surge of corpses with a single note. That Lan Sizhui is truly a talent!”

For the first time in a while, Wei Wuxian began to smile. His A-Yuan grew up to be such a fine man. What are these people saying, of course his son is talented!

The cultivator’s partner huffed, “Well with a father like Hanguang-Jun, how could he not be talented?”

Wei Wuxian’s smile wobbled as he bit his lip, hurrying away from the town.

Silly.

How absolutely silly.

A-Yuan is Lan Zhan’s son. Lan Zhan was the one to raise him, teach him. How could he be so arrogant as to attribute any of Lan Zhan’s and A-Yuan’s efforts to himself?

Of course A-Yuan hasn’t come to visit. Why would he? He may be Wei Wuxian’s son, but Wei Wuxian was in no way his parent. 

A-Yuan had always liked Lan Zhan better anyway, even back in Yiling, haha.

Haha.

…

Ha.

The sound of a brush on paper was all that resounded through that cold and empty night on the mountain.

It’s been a long time since Wei Wuxian entered the Burial Mounds. He used to go burn paper money with the others way back when, but…

He hopes the Wens will be okay with a stick instead of incense.

A clinking sound brought wei Wuxian’s eyes down to his waist. Suibian is acting up again. This entire journey Suibian has been trying to move him in any other direction, even flying out of his sheath so Wei Wuxian would have to chase it down. Eventually he had no choice but to wrap some vines around it and slap on some talismans to keep it locked in. Chenqing also had to be wrapped in a cloth, the flute singing hymns of death that raise corpses just enough to grab his ankles to keep him in place.

Should Wei Wuxian be proud to have cultivated such powerful spirits?

He is. He’s very happy. Even if he never uses them, Wei Wuxian is sure A-Yuan will take good care of them as a proper master, unlike himself.

Wei Wuxian finishes the array, gently placing Suibian and Chenqing in the middle. He gives them a slow, careful stroke, as if memorizing their forms with his touch. Then he activates the array.

Lan Sizhui really hates Discussion Conferences sometimes. He has to pretend to like people he hates and stay quiet while they talk about pointless or irritating things. His Uncle Xichen usually intervenes before those people venture too far into a certain forbidden area, but it doesn’t stop the bitter taste in his mouth.

He wishes Uncle Ning could be here. Uncle Xichen may change the topic, but that’s the most he’ll do in public. Uncle Ning, for all his gentleness, would never let them get away with badmouthing Wei Wuxian.

Unlike the Lans, Uncle Ning would never abandon his mother.

It has been a difficult two years, but they’re finally narrowing down possible locations. Surprisingly, Sect Leader Jiang has offered his help to them. Lan Sizhui thought that maybe Jin Ling had talked to him, but apparently he’s just gotten nowhere in his own search.

For some reason Uncle Ning was slightly hostile to Jiang Cheng, but even more surprising was that Jiang Cheng put up with it.

Why was he so desperate?

At least their combined information bore some fruit. As soon as this stupid conference ends they’ll fan out a search.

They’ll find him.

Sensing a sudden influx of spirit energy, Lan Sizhui snapped to attention in time to catch a bundle that appeared out of thin air. No, two bundles. Lan Sizhui furrowed his brows, who would teleport something like this during a Discussion Conference?

Who could teleport something into the Cloud Recesses Discussion Conference?

Silver eyes widened as Lan Sizhui caught sight of two black grass butterflies peeking out of the fabric. Uncaring of the eyes on him, Lan Sizhui tore off the wrappings in frenzy, revealing a certain sword and flute. They were both still.

Lan Sizhui grabbed them and ran out at a full sprint yelling, “UNCLE NING! I KNOW WHERE HE IS!!!”

Going at their fastest speed, Lan Sizhui were able to arrive at the Burial Mounds within a few hours. Wen Ning had to support him when he nearly tripped over his own feet, but Lan Sizhui couldn’t bother with that right now. 

He’s here.

Mom is here.

Of course he would come here eventually. What were they thinking, writing off the Burial Mounds when they didn’t find him there the first time? They should have set up alarms!

Taking a deep calming breath, Lan Sizhui’s eyes sharpened as he and Wen Ning ran into their once-home. There was no point searching blindly, if Wei Wuxian returned here he would only go to one place.

Entering the Demon-Slaughtering cave brought an onslaught of memories both good and bad, the familiar scent of the blood pool more comforting than it had any right to be.

Wen Ning brought his attention to a pair of footsteps in the dirt leading into the very back. With quick but silent steps, the two reached the blood pool, but there was no Wei Wuxian in sight. 

A letter lay carefully folded under a rock in front of the pool.

The footsteps don’t stop.

Unfolding the letter with trembling hands, Lan Sizhui and Wen Ning began to read. A second later Lan Sizhui felt himself slinking to the ground as Wen Ning dived into the blood pool, an anguished roar piercing even through the thick liquid. Gasping through the tears, Lan Sizhui scrambled forward with whatever strength he could find to follow him, ignoring the vile sensation of blood coating his entire body, stretching his senses to their very limit to find something. Anything.

He almost wished he didn’t find anything.

A loud crash rang through the conference hall as a pair of doors were smashed in. A thick scent of blood pervaded the room, the cultivators tensing with their swords ready, until Sect Leader Lan cried out, “Sizhui?!”

Everyone blinked as Lan Xichen hurried forward in worry, “What happened?! Are you hurt?!”

The soaked man stayed quiet, gaze fixed on Lan Wangji who had also made his way forward, only to be frozen in place by Lan Sizhui’s piercing glare.

Lan Wangji furrowed his brow, wondering what’s going on, “Si-”

He was stopped by a choked sob.

On the side, Jiang Cheng felt dread pooling in his gut.

Lan Sizhui took a few slow heavy steps forward, silent as he lifted his head and whimpered,

“I hate you.”

Lan Wangji’s eyes widened in horror as Lan Sizhui lunged forward to stab his sword into his father’s stomach. Lan Sizhui glared harder, hysterically crying, “I HATE YOU! I HATE ALL OF YOU!!!”

Lan Xichen blanched in horror before pulling out his Xiao as he realized, “He’s undergoing Qi Deviation!”

The other sects made room while the Lans coordinated with the Nies to attempt to suppress Lan Sizhui, but they vastly underestimated his strength. Sizhui slashed at whoever came close, injuring close to a dozen cultivators before Jiang Cheng clicked his tongue and joined the fight. If this continues things might just get violent for real, and he doesn’t care about a Wen-dog, but he can’t let his nephew Wei Wuxian’s brat get hurt.

The kid put up a hell of a fight, but he didn’t grow up fighting someone much more difficult. A few minutes later had Jiang Cheng stepping on Lan Sizhui’s back, Zidian wrapped tightly but harmlessly around his body as the Lans played Clarity. It took a bit more time than Jiang Cheng would have liked for Lan Sizhui’s struggling to fade into trembling as the boy laid on the ground crying, “I hate you, I hate you so much…”

Jiang Cheng huffed. So the brat finally saw reason and learned to hate Lan Wangji like he should have two years ago. He sneered at the older Lan as a healer sat next to him closing his wound, praise ready on his lips when he heard a muted sob, “Father, Jiang Cheng, I hate you both so much…”

Jiang Cheng stilled as lan Sizhui glared behind his neck at him, “...So. Much…”

Swallowing hard, Jiang Cheng forced a glare on his own face, “And who do you think you are to do that?” Even Jin Ling doesn’t speak to him like this.

“Wei Wuxian’s son.”

Jiang Cheng feels his heart go cold as Lan Sizhui wriggles around to slide a blood-stained letter out of his sleeve. Snatching it up, Jiang Cheng rakes his eyes over the paper with a growing desperation. It’s a series of short letters. Wen Ning, Lan Sizhui, the juniors, Lan Wangji, even Lan Xichen.

Dear Jiang Cheng,

(His fingers start to tremble.)

If you haven’t burned this letter as soon as you saw it’s from me, I count it a success! Haha, don’t worry, I’ll be quick.

(Don’t, slow down.)

I’m sorry I ruined our last meeting. I knew better than to intrude on Lotus Pier, but still got ahead of myself. Have I always been that presumptuous? Apologize to Uncle Jiang on my behalf.

(Who ruined it? Apologize yourself.)

I would do it myself, but… I think we both know where I’m going.

(...)

But that’s fine. Even that is more than I deserve. I know that.

(...)

You were right.

(...)

About me. Everything.

(...)

I know I’m not your brother anymore, but you never stopped being mine.

I’m sorry I couldn’t be better.

(*drip*)

Jiang Cheng didn’t realize he had crumbled the paper until gentle hands carefully unfurled his fingers. He stared blankly as Lan Xichen patted his shoulder and moved him off Lan Sizhui. Lan Sizhui, the only thing left of his brother.

He wondered if this is how Wei Wuxian felt when he met Jin Ling for the first time. He unconsciously reached out only for lan Sizhui to flinch back and glare at him again. Jiang Cheng’s hand froze.

But.

He reached forward again and held the struggling Lan Sizhui tight.

For the first time, he understands why Wei Wuxian clung to Jin Ling so fervently. This one precious person. No matter the attitude, no matter the heritage.

He’s all I have left.

Lan Xichen carefully walked over to a dazed Lan Wangji, gently placing a hand on his head and quietly handing him the letter. With blank eyes, Lan Wangji found a passage for him.

Dear Lan Zhan,

Thank you.

I’m sorry.

[amerrierworld]

Curtain. (iii)

Carol (2015) fanfiction

Pt: 1 | 2

Word Count: 1,884

"Hey, T, you alright?" Dannie said as they got back to Therese's place. He leaned against the wall as she struggled to get her keys out.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, ya seemed a bit distracted during dinner. Did something happen? Was it Richard?"

Therese hesitated in answering as her hand halted on the door knob. Sure, Richard was always a pain in her ass. Their respective jobs kept them apart, thank God, but Therese was never the keenest on keeping exes in her circle of friends. In this case she had no choice.

"Yeah, kind of. I mean, he's always been a misogynistic asshole, don't you think? I can only handle him for so long at any given time," Therese said, breezing inside with an air of nonchalance. Dannie wasn't having any of it as he followed her.

"Or was it a certain blonde boss that was keeping you from enjoying the night?" he asked as he followed her up the stairs.

"Shut up, Dannie," Therese quipped back without looking at him. "I'm stressed, alright? You might get a bit of a break now that the show's done, but I've got a new job coming up and that shit's never easy."

"Right, sorry, T, I didn't mean to upset you."

Therese sighed as they got to her door, turning to face him. "No, it's okay. I'm being weird, I know. It's just... well, sometimes I get confused, y'know? Like I just don't know what I want, and I get swept up in all these things and people around me, and I can't say no to any of it. Now what am I doing? I'm barely out, and barely paying my rent, and not doing the jobs I originally wanted to do. I never planned to be an art teacher of any kind. And it all just piles up."

She was staring at the ground, brows furrowed as she thought things through. Though she wouldn't tell Dannie the real aggressor of her overloaded thoughts was in fact the director, it was the only thing truly on her mind. She hadn't looked at anyone properly or found anyone as attractive as the blonde woman who she didn't even know the first name of. It scared her.

Two strong arms wrapped around Therese firmly and Dannie hugged her during her brief ruminating session.

"I can't imagine what it's like, T," he said, his chin on her hair. "I know it's probably tough, Phil's had a hell of a ride with figuring himself out and that took a toll on him. You've had it almost worse in my opinion, cause it took being with a shithead like Richard-"

Therese snorted.

"... to make you realize that you deserve more, and better."

"Being gay is the best thing in the world," Therese sighed. "But also the worst. No girls I look at ever know what they want. Or what they like. Or they're just experimenting. And, you know, homophobia..."

"Ignorance."

"Hate."

"Yeah, but girls."

"Yeah. Girls," Therese cracked a smile and Dannie did too. He bumped her arm playfully and she opened her apartment door.

"You wanna come inside for a drink?"

"Nah, I better head home. Phil's probably done his shift so I gotta make sure he eats at least something other than Redbull before he crashes on the bed."

"Gotcha."

"Let me know if you need anything, okay? I'm just a call away."

"I know, Dannie. Thank you."

"Goodnight T, have some sweet... blonde... dreams!"

Therese tried to swing her purse at him but missed as her best friend went cackling down the stairs.

-

September - before the first day

"Oh, Miss Belivet, is it?" asked the elderly lady at the front desk. Therese nodded, pulling at her skirt, her bag swung over her shoulder as she stood by the reception desk of the school- her new school.

She'd been working tirelessly the past week to really get herself in order. She even had a plan for the kids; themes accompanied with the crafts, and lessons in the art they were doing, not just mindless cutting and glueing. God, she definitely wasn't getting paid enough for this. Therese hoped her work would at least be appreciated.

"I was called to see the school today with Mrs... Robichek, I think it was?"

"Yes, you're right, I'll just page her down."

Therese waited by the receptionist, wandering a bit as she took in the school's architecture. Despite its clear technological advances of the relatively up-to-date phones, computers and printers, the school itself still had an old architectural feel to it, like something out of the 50s. The floors had a horrendous tiled pattern and the walls' pale green colours had faded into something ghastly.

Shuffling caught her attention and Therese turned to see a small, old lady with thick framed glasses in the doorway of the office. Though she looked just as ghastly as the school's design, she had a peppy smile on her face.

"Welcome, Theresa," she began. Therese's own smile faltered a little but she couldn't be bothered to correct her new colleague. Robichek, or Ruby as she introduced herself, gave Therese a tour of the small but well-regarded school.

"Now, you've got it easy, Theresa dear. You'll just need to be here everyday after school, no need for those 8am calls! Hah!"

Therese zoned out a bit as she watched the janitors and teachers bustle about the school, preparing for the new year and welcoming all the kids. Teachers with boxes filled with notebooks and markers. Desks being shuffled around and moved. The janitors cleaning the windows and floors thoroughly, making the tiles shine so brightly it gave Therese a headache.

"Here we are," Ruby suddenly piped up, entering a small classroom. Therese did a full turn once inside, noting the sink at the back of the room, handy, she thought. A selection of about 20 seemingly unused easels were propped up against the far wall, making Therese's hands itch with excitement.

"Now, usually this is Mr. Tucker's classroom. After 3pm, you've got it for yourself. You won't be allowed to move or touch his desk, but do whatever you like with the rest of the set up, as long as you move it back at the end of the day."

"What does Mr. Tucker teach?"

"Hm? Oh, during the school day he teaches the eighth graders, mainly. He's also coach and teaches gym, so he barely uses this room for his own things; that's what the gym office is for."

Therese wandered around the room for a bit, wondering if she was invading someone's space by being here. But no, she was only playing babysitter for kids after school. Administration insisted it still needed a curricular focus, according to Ruby, that's why they wanted an art-focused program rather than just letting kids waste their time for an hour or two.

"Between you and me, I think they're also doing it so they can cut some of the art funding during the regular day. This is technically outside of school hours so they don't have to worry about it, but they still count it as the curriculum being met," Ruby scoffed. Therese hummed in response, knowing how little arts were appreciated in schools nowadays, especially for younger years.

"Well, I think that's it, my dear! There's room in the teacher's lounge for your things once you start tomorrow. You needn't worry about taking up anyone's space, so do what you like."

"Thank you, Mrs. Robichek."

"Not a problem."

"Can I ask one question though? Where are all the art supplies?"

"Ah, that. Well. You see, I'm afraid this is as much as you're gonna get. It's an art club, Miss Belivet. The school board isn't going to be buying supplies for you."

With that, Mrs. Robichek walked out, leaving Therese to her own devices. She wandered about, checking the drawers in the cabinets and by the sink. A box of broken crayons and old Crayola markers was all she found. Some scissors, half a pack of construction paper, a couple glue sticks... The only real asset were the easels at the back of the room. Someone probably funded those with good intention, but no one seemed interested to use them properly.

As she crouched by the sink, rummaging through the last few piles of flimsy paper and boxes, the door opened. In walked a beanpole of a man- thin glasses framing his beady eyes. He was dressed in a suit that seemed to hang off of his body, old and boring in every way. He had a box in hand that he set on the desk before noticing Therese at the other end of the room.

"Who are you?" he asked immediately. This, Therese assumed, was Mr. Tucker.

"Oh, hello, Mr. Tucker. I'm Therese Belivet, I'm-,"

"The new art teacher, yes I know. I suppose we're sharing this classroom for the year, hm?"

Therese nodded bleakly as she got up, a forgotten glue stick in hand.

"I'll have you know I have a very strict way with my things, Miss Belivet. I will not allow you to move anything off of my desk. This need for art after school nonsense is ridiculous in my opinion, but I will mostly be in my separate office by the gym. Do what you like with those things,"  he nodded to the easels, "but don't make a mess of my classroom."

Therese was stumped by the man's arrogance and haughty behaviour so she clasped her hands in front of her instinctively, like she was a student back at boarding school. "Of course, sir."

He gave her a pointed look, not moving from his spot. Understanding the cue, Therese hurried out the classroom as fast as her feet would carry her.

God, what a weasel of a man, she thought, taking a breather as she headed back to the main office. She wouldn't be needed until 3pm the next day, which opened up her mornings nicely. She waved goodbye to the receptionist, who she learned was named Patricia, and walked out in the late summer evening air.

Therese hurried to get a cab, texting Dannie on her way back to her apartment.

met 3 new colleagues today. 1/3 was actually bearable

Dannie replied within a few minutes.

no shit, eh? what are they like?

receptionist is nice, does her job and didn't ask any questions. this one other lady teacher seems to be like everyone's overbearing grandma (good thing she teaches kindergarten i guess??) oh and the last guy seems like a total creep- really uptight

what does he teach?

gym. he's the coach of whatever teams they can even have here. it's such a small school.

damn, he's not ripped is he? if he creeps you again i could take him down, maybe.

lol nah he's a stick more than anything. doesn't seem to like me, or art for that matter. i have to share a classroom with him.

bummer. maybe paint the walls a sick fluorescent magenta? that might send him a message. kids would enjoy it too

Therese snorted at her phone, though the message gave her an idea. She hastily sent a reply to Dannie before directing the cab to the nearest art supply store.

A/N: Two updates in one day. I couldn’t help myself :3 Hope you like it folks. It won’t be long until our two leading ladies meet, I promise.

[wiseabsol]

WA Reviews “Dominion” by Aurelia le, Chapter 12: The Seal

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6383825/12/Dominion

Summary: For the Fire Nation royal siblings, love has always warred with hate. But neither the outward accomplishment of peace nor Azula’s defeat have brought the respite Zuko expected. Will his sister’s plans answer this, or only destroy them both?

Content Warnings: This story contains discussions and depictions of child abuse, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse, and incest. This story also explores the idea that Zuko’s redemption arc (and his unlearning of abuse) is not as complete as the show suggested, and that Azula is not a sociopath (with the story having a lot of sympathy for her). If that doesn’t sound like your cup of tea, I would strongly recommend steering clear of this story and my reviews of it.  

Note: Because these were originally posted as chapter reviews/commentaries, I will often be talking to the author in them (though sometimes I will also snarkily address the characters). While I’ve also tried not to spoil later events in the story in these reviews, I would strongly recommend reading through chapter 28 before reading these, just to be safe.

Now on to chapter 12!

CHAPTER 12: THE SEAL

Alright, on to chapter twelve, “The Seal,” my favorite chapter of “Dominion!” This is going to be a much longer review than the others, so do be warned in advance.

 In regards to the author’s note, I do not envy the amount of research and posing you need to do to handle fight scenes in this story, but I admire how much work you put into it. I think the fight scenes really shine! The other points of discussion here are also interesting, namely regarding Iroh, who we’ll be seeing more interiority from as time goes on.

 Into the chapter itself! Oh lord, cricket wasps—I hate the insects in the ATLA world, I really do. So in this flashback, twelve-year-old Ty Lee has snuck over to Azula’s quarters and is watching her through the window, while hanging upside-down from a tree. God, I miss being young and able to climb trees like that with ease. But anyway, Azula is wearing one of her mom’s old robes during the hottest part of the summer, because symbolism and because Azula is sick as a dog. Ty Lee doesn’t know that yet, though.

 “Not at lessons, or meditating, or any of the other stuff Li and Lo said every time Ty Lee had tried to call on her in the past two weeks.”—This indicates that Li and Lo are aware of what is going on with Azula, and haven’t done anything to intervene on her behalf. Not that that would be easy, since Ozai is the Fire Lord, BUT—and this is key—in this continuity, they were Azulon’s concubines. Given that there hasn’t been mention of them having Azulon’s bastards in the main story (unlike with Iroh in “The Road”), this implies that Li and Lo had access to birth control. So they could have given some to Azula in the form of tea, or—since they haven’t revealed that they know what is going on to her—to Ozai to give to Azula. They would still be accomplices to Ozai’s abuse, but they could have done some damage control. They didn’t, though. Nor did Ozai. Maybe they all gambled on Azula being too young to conceive, which, A.) Is really gross, and B.) Is ignorant of them, since teenagers who grow up with good diets tend to have their first periods between ages 11-13. They should have taken more precautions. Or, you know, NOT forced Azula to have sex.

 I’m getting ahead of myself. Ty Lee is under the impression that Azula is trying to ghost her, and thinks something about Mai that I’m puzzled about: “Something about, they never said anything before—” I feel like this is about Zuko, somehow. Did he not say anything to Mai before he went into exile? I think it’s implied that they already had something going on before he left, given how quickly they got together after season two, but there might have also been a comic that went over how Azula got them together, and used their relationship to secure Zuko’s return home?

 “But those old ladies were Azula’s servants, right? So if they were lying to her, it was like Azula was lying to her….”—I think Ty Lee shows a touch of classism here, because she doesn’t consider the possibility that Lo and Li might be lying to her for their own reasons, or that they might be trying to drive a wedge between the girls. Heck, they might even think that Ty Lee is annoying and are just messing with her. She assumes that Lo and Li and Azula are all aligned, because she was taught that that’s what’s proper from servants—that they will align themselves with values of their employers and carry out their wishes. This might even be true in a healthy household, where everyone values each other and are pitching in to make their household a good one. But the Royal Family’s household isn’t healthy, and Lo and Li have more agency than Ty Lee gives them credit for.

 Also, it boggles my mind that Lo and Li, the concubines, are Azula’s servants. What in the world did the court think that they were teaching her? I can only assume it was things like cosmetics, fashion, and feminine arts like tea ceremonies, but goodness, weren’t there actual instructors for those, both in the capitol and at the Academy? Possibly Azula chased those teachers away, since Mai says in one chapter that Azula bullied their instructors at the Academy. But still, I can’t imagine no one raised an eyebrow at Lo and Li being assigned to Azula.

 “The other girls at the academy said Azula was a liar, even Mai did, but Ty Lee knew she didn’t lie about that. When Ty Lee was being annoying or childish or empty-headed, Azula told her so, she didn’t just invent excuses not to be around her. Mai said it was because Azula didn’t care what she thought. That was the only reason she was honest with Ty Lee. But Azula didn’t care what anyone thought except her dad, and she still lied to all of them….”

 We know that Azula lies and that she’s quite good at it, BUT I suspect that what was happening at the Academy was more a case of Azula being bluntly honest, and the people she was talking to not wanting to believe what she was saying. Also, with Ty Lee’s ability to read auras, she—unlike Toph—might be able to catch Azula in a lie, even if she can’t discern what the truth is based on her readings. So I think that Ty Lee has a better grasp on Azula than Mai does, while Mai is less likely to excuse Azula’s toxic actions out of sympathy for her.

 “She shouldn’t say goodbye to her friend while she was thinking all these unkind thoughts that probably—definitely—weren’t even true.”—She’s such a sweetheart. This is the chapter that swayed me to the Azula and Ty Lee ship.

 “Azula didn’t even know she was out here, Ty Lee realized. But she was practically impossible to sneak up on—“—Because she’s sick, Ty Lee. But also, it’s depressing that Azula is constantly on her guard.

 “Azula must not know Li and Lo turned her away, or she wouldn’t ask that.”—Told you, Ty Lee. They have their own agendas.

 Ty Lee discusses how Azula’s aura has appeared to her in the past, including this sad line: “Even forest green when she used to watch her mom with Zuko.” Azula has always been jealous of how close Ursa and Zuko were. I suspect that she wanted that closeness with both of them, especially her mom, but none of them knew how to connect with each other.

 “Her shadowed eyes were fever-bright, and only stood out more starkly for being lined with kohl.”—Azula, if there’s a day to not bother with make-up, it’s today. I know your little perfectionist heart won’t allow you to skip your routine, but if you’re spending your day vomiting and sweating, throw those cosmetics into the back of the drawer and don’t bother.

 “Ty Lee couldn’t remember the last time she saw Azula with her hair down….”—So no sleepovers lately, eh?

 It turns out that Ty Lee’s family are having her followed because they’ve made a match for her, and Ty Lee isn’t into it. Azula is similarly not into it and is confused, because it doesn’t seem to make much sense—Ty Lee is very young and has older sisters that still need to be married off, so this seems out of the blue.

 “Ty Lee hesitated at that. If she told her the whole story, Azula might try to stop her. She always agreed with her dad.”—There we are, it’s not her family’s idea, it’s Ozai’s. It’s sad that Ty Lee thinks that Azula will automatically side with Ozai on the issue, but it’s also a commonly held belief about Azula, and something that Ozai has cultivated. I don’t think that anyone has tested what might make Azula break from Ozai—the closest she’s gotten to doing so was when she lied to her father, namely for Zuko after Aang’s “death.”

 Ty Lee tries to deflect Azula’s questions by saying that her family wants to get her hitched before she runs off and joins the circus. And because Azula does, in fact, care about Ty Lee, she doesn’t laugh at the idea, but is instead hurt that Ty Lee is planning to leave—specifically, that’s she’s planning to leave HER. Azula is terrified of being left alone, now that Zuko, Ursa, Mai, and even Iroh have all left her behind without a backwards glance.

 “Ty Lee just glimpsed what looked unbelievably like panic on her wan face”—Ty Lee has never seen Azula panicked before. Or heard her curse before, which is what she does after vomiting into a vase. Ty Lee holds her hair back like a true friend. Somewhere, there’s a college AU of these two having a drunken night out and Ty Lee making sure that Azula doesn’t get vomit in her hair.

 “‘You’d think it’d stop after—’ She stopped then, like she only just remembered something.”—Azula nearly slips here, and I do have to wonder what she almost said. After the potion took effect and the cramping and bleeding started? I’m assuming that the expelled fetus would be too small to see at four months, but I don’t know enough about fetal development to know if that’s correct, and I don’t want to look it up.

 Ty Lee tries to ask her what she’s sick with, which Azula deflects. When thinking about what Azula could have said that she was sick with, I did wonder if Azula would have gone through a poison training regime at some point—been exposed to increasing doses of X and Y poisons to build up an immunity to them? Of course, this would have to be done under the supervision of a trusted doctor, and who knows if Ozai would trust a doctor enough for that.

 “A pulpy mash of what might have been crushed leave, shredded stems, and petals lavender and yellow”—I believe Azula has a double-dose of tansy and pennyroyal here. She also heats up her own tea, which I believe Iroh does too, suggesting that she has equally fine control over her firebending. Zuko, I think, is implied to overheat the water, making for bitter tea.

 “‘Just a miscalculation,’ Azula said almost to herself, and Ty Lee heard how she paused over the world, like it wasn’t her own.”—This plays into a couple of things. Azula has a deep fear of making mistakes, in large part due to being raised by an abusive parent who wouldn’t accept anything less than perfection, but also by the trauma of how own his mistakes have physically and psychologically affected her. It also adds another trigger to why Azula blew up at Mai at the Boiling Rock. Not only was she betrayed and abandoned by Mai, but Mai unintentionally reminded her of the pain from a past miscalculation.

 “dumped a heaping spoonful of some off-white powder into the cup and stirred”—I wonder what this was?

 When Ty Lee points out that Azula’s medicine doesn’t seem to be working, Azula says, “‘It just needs time,’” and I want to sit her down and discuss the sunken cost fallacy, and how you definitely don’t want to apply it to medication. Azula mentions that she wonders if she’ll ever get the taste out of her mouth, and I’m pretty sure she’d get nauseous if she tasted it again, given how aversions work.

 “‘I’ve been taking it every few hours, by Fa—by our physician’s orders.’”—This is an ugly little detail. It’s possible that Azula’s “reaction to the herb” later in the chapter isn’t due to it having an unexpected side effect, but because she had way, way too much of it because she followed Ozai’s orders, rather than her doctor’s instructions. Which isn’t her fault, by the way—it’s Ozai’s.

 “Ty Lee wondered if Azula could heat her hand to make it a hot compress, like the warm washcloth her Nana would drape on her forehead when she was sick. That always felt so good.”—I doubt that Azula has ever had someone give her a hot compress, so she wouldn’t think to do this.

 “‘Listen, you don’t have to run away.’ She drew a deep breath, as if bracing herself for an unpleasant undertaking. ‘I’ll talk to my father. He might get your parents to back off.’”—It’s so telling that Azula isn’t looking forward to asking her father for help.

 Ty Lee admits that Ozai suggested the match, and follows it up with others way that Ozai has tried to elevate her family that they’ve declined. Azula puts two and two together and realizes that Ozai—who presumably already got rid of Mai by putting Mai’s family in charge of Omashu—is trying to do the same to Ty Lee. He’s trying to isolate Azula from her loved ones, both because it lowers to risk of their secret coming to light, but is also a classic abuse tactic: make sure the victim has no one but the abuser in their life, and thus no one else they can turn to for help and support.

 “‘They’re a cadet branch of your family, from back before Fire Lord Sozin.’”—I’m surprised that Ozai hasn’t found a way to get rid of them. Also, Aurelia, you need to read the Kyoshi novels, because I think you would dig the Fire Nation politics in book two.

 “She didn’t start talking again when she saw the look on Azula’s face. It was like someone walled off the last window into her prison cell…. Ty Lee couldn’t guess where that came from, when the princess was the most powerful person she knew. But it fit. Somehow, it fit.”—This hurts so baaaaaaad. But yeah, Ty Lee, you were literally the only bright spot in Azula’s life, and probably the only one who loved her for who she was. Azula is looking at a future where she’s alone with her abuser.

 And what does Azula do in response? She puts Ty Lee first. “‘Then you have to go,’” she says, because if Ty Lee doesn’t run now, Ozai is going to find some other, crueler way to get Ty Lee out of the picture, and Azula knows it. When Ty Lee hesitates, Azula lashes out, trying to drive her away. But what she says is rooted in her own insecurities about being abandoned. In her moments of doubt, I think Azula genuinely thought that Ty Lee was looking for an excuse to leave her, too. Even though it’s apparent that Ty Lee cares about her.

 “‘Do you think I don’t know we were only introduced because your parents were trying to betroth you to Zuko?’”—That is audacious of a minor noble family, not going to lie.

 “her fingers clenching like they always did at the mention of her banished brother.”—Proof that Azula is upset about Zuko being banished, even if she can’t admit it to herself.

 “This was the first Ty Lee heard of it, but she guessed it might be true. It was beside the point anyway. ‘That’s my parents, Azula. Not me,’ she insisted, approaching the white-faced princess. ‘You’re my friend, and I care about you. I’m here because I want to be here.’”—Ty Lee is so precious and Azula should date her. Alas, queer relationships are illegal in the Fire Nation, at least during the time this story is set in.

 Azula continues to break down and is close to outright crying, which makes Ty Lee’s heart sink. We get this bit of info: “‘Don’t you remember how you felt when your grandad tried to arrange a marriage for you? I mean, I know you were younger, but…you wouldn’t want that for me, would you?’” So Azula was not pleased about having to marry her cousin, Lu Ten. I don’t think that info has quite been revealed yet—I think Ursa thinks about it later—but that’s what’s being referred to here.

 “She climbed the shallow steps to sit beside Azula, as close as she dared.”—Even back then, Azula didn’t like being touched. That or Ty Lee is afraid that Azula will hurt her, but I hate that reading.

 “‘What I want doesn’t matter,’ the princess spoke with an awful finality. ‘It never did.’”—Holy HELL does this break my heart. I’ve also been there, so I want to wrap Azula up in a hug, even though I know she’d hate that. Also, does Azula know what she wants? What SHE really wants, and not what the people around her wants from and for her?

 “‘It matters to me,’ Ty Lee said gently, and reached out to lay a hand on her arm in reassurance.”—Ty Lee is trying to kill me with this sweetness. She’s such a good person!

 Azula continues to rant poisonously at Ty Lee, and what Ty Lee doesn’t realize is that there’s a strong undercurrent of self-hatred in what Azula is saying: “but it wasn’t worth putting up with me anymore [ . . . ] was it?” She fully expects people to leave her, and is now actively trying to push Ty Lee away, because then at least she can tell herself that she was the one in control of how their relationship ended, rather than feeling helpless.

 And why is that trauma there? Well, because of Ursa. “‘You act like you’re doing me some kind of favor, saying goodbye when my mother didn’t.’” Ursa didn’t say goodbye to Azula. That would have left deep scars on her, even if the rest of her family and friends were supportive of her.

 Azula then says something that would be unforgiveable for most people: “‘You act like you’re my friend, when the only one stupid enough to believe that is you.’” Azula knows she went too far, because a few seconds later, “the princess had taken one step closer to where [Ty Lee] still sat at the end of the bed, something like regret written on her bloodless face.” I suspect that Azula would have apologized here, but then she collapses onto her knees.

 “Ty Lee was on her feet and down the shallow steps in an instant, her own hurt all but forgotten.”—Ty Lee is such a good friend. She asks Azula what’s wrong, but Azula can’t even think up a convincing lie.

 It’s mentioned that one of Azula’s hands go into her robe to clutch at her stomach, and when she draws her fingers away, there is blood on them. She’s bleeding badly at this point, but the heavy clothing is covering it up. At this point, a servant comes in and tells them that Ozai has summoned Azula, despite the fact that she’s very sick. Ty Lee is appalled, but Azula insists on going. Azula orders Ty Lee away, but of course Ty Lee isn’t about to go now.

 “She didn’t even get to hug Azula goodbye! And what she said about—about not being her friend…. Azula didn’t mean that, right? If Ty Lee just gave her time, she’d take it back, she’d apologize like she always did before.”—I think it’s undeniable that Azula behaves toxically towards her friends at points. Hopefully this will be something that she grows out of, but that is probably going take a lot of time and effort.

 Ty Lee, hearing Azula struggling to get ready, goes to check on her. “[Azula’s] shoulders slumped hopelessly, and she bit her lip so hard she drew blood.”—This really makes you feel for her. She feels like she has to look perfect in front of her own father while she’s severely ill. It makes me want to punch Ozai in the groin. Ty Lee helps her with her hair, which shows that she’s also very brave, as well as a true friend. Ty Lee is so underrated as a character, I swear.

 “The blood was gone from her fingers, and Ty Lee started to wonder if she’d only imagined it.”—Ty Lee is going to have the worst time when she puts two and two together that she was there when Azula was having her abortion. Also when she learns what Ozai was doing to Azula. It’s going to break my heart when it happens.

 Azula then gives Ty Lee her royal seal, which the chapter is named for. Azula gives it to Ty Lee so that Ty Lee will be able to get whatever she needs on the road. This will also let Azula keep track of where she is, but Ty Lee doesn’t think of that in the moment. Ty Lee tries to glomp Azula, but Azula braces herself as if expecting to be hit. “‘We’re not little kids anymore,’” Azula says, and I’m like, “Girl, you’re thirteen, yes you are.”

 Azula’s rejection of the hug hurts Ty Lee, but Ty Lee nonetheless stays in Azula’s room to wait for a real goodbye.

 “And sometimes when Azula’s dad sent for her, she came back upset. She might want to talk about it…. She wouldn’t want to talk about it, Ty Lee admitted [. . .] But she might want someone to talk at her, about stupid meaningless stuff to distract her. Azula acted annoyed when she did that, but sometimes Ty Lee thought she secretly liked it.”—This is so sad, given that we know why Azula comes back upset. I also relate to the distraction tactic. My friends and I use it on each other all of the time when we’re upset.

 Ty Lee considers staying a few extra days to make sure that Azula is feeling better, which definitely goes against Azula’s warning—but then, Ty Lee doesn’t know that she’s in danger. Ty Lee continues to wait for Azula, even after it gets dark. “Every time she looked up into that dark immensity, Ty Lee thought it looked like a giant mouth. Like Azula slept in a dragon’s maw.”—Oh look, a metaphor!

 In the middle of the night, Ozai comes into Azula’s room in a rage and starts destroying her changing screen, which is another abusive action—ruining her belongings in his anger, rather than anything belonging to him—and is probably also a metaphor, since the screen could represent her privacy.

 Ozai quickly realizes that Ty Lee is in the room and reigns himself in, though he’s still radiating rage, and Ty Lee knows that he could hurt her: “And Ty Lee knew a moment of blinding terror, when she imagined his big hands doing to her what they did to the screen….” She actually does think that he’s going to hit her at one point.

 He interrogates her on why she’s there, and Ty Lee thinks about how he and Zuko have the same eyes. It draws to mind that Zuko actually has the same explosive anger as Ozai, though he, at least, has the excuse of youth. Ty Lee, brave as she is, questions Ozai about where Azula is, and doesn’t buy the explanation he gives her.

 “‘She is a prodigy [ . . . ] My perfect girl….’ Something in his voice made Ty Lee’s eyes go wide. He talked about Azula like—like maybe she wasn’t those things anymore. Like something bad happened to her….”—Woof. First, she shouldn’t have to be perfect. Second, what’s happening to Azula is your fault, Ozai, not hers.

 “‘She will sit the Burning Throne one day, with the world for her dominion.’”—Title drop! “‘Nothing will divert her from that goal. Nothing [ . . . ] and no one.’”—What if Azula has different dreams, Ozai? What if she does something wild like fall in love? What is SHE wants to join a circus? Cirque Du Soleil, maybe!

 In any case, Ty Lee doesn’t get the hint that Ozai is talking about her, or that he sees Ty Lee as a distraction to Azula. Namely, a distraction from him and his ambitions.

 “Ty Lee spotted two servants halfway down the length of it. They scrubbed at a dark stain on the tile floor, working on hands and knees with their heads together, whispering. They fell silent immediately on spotting the Fire Lord, and redoubled their efforts, eyes fixed determinedly on their work and not on the young girl he led by the arm down a side passage.”—Oh, they absolutely know what’s going on with Azula. That he’s dragging another young girl down a hallway is not a good look for him, either.

 Ozai shoves Ty Lee off onto a guard to escort out of the palace. The guard, to his credit, is gentle with her. Once outside, Ty Lee considers trying to go back inside, wanting to prove to Azula that they’re friends. However, she heeds Azula’s warning instead, which likely saves her life, since Ozai would done something terrible had she ignored his threats. She would have become a security risk once she knew the truth, after all, and it’s not like she’s her family’s heir.  

 We flash forward to the present day, with Ty Lee reminiscing on what happened afterwards. Ty Lee wrote to Azula, but I strongly suspect that Azula burned the letters after reading them, and didn’t send letters back because she was worried that someone might use them to track Ty Lee down. That and she was pretending that Ty Lee had stolen from her, so no sense in acting too chummy. Also, Azula is Ty Lee’s “first and oldest friend,” which is cute and probably implies the same thing right back at Ty Lee.

 Ty Lee thinks about how Azula’s aura was different when they met again, and how Zuko’s was the same color for a while. She noticed that Azula was cold and lying all of the time (her aura colors meaning, “fear of the future, self-expression, or telling the truth,” “struggling to maintain control,” “anger,” and “survival-oriented”), and was getting worse and worse mentally, especially after Zuko left again. Eventually, it was so bad that Ty Lee was scared of her….

 But because Ty Lee is a saint, they reconnected at the asylum. When Ty Lee shows her the seal, Azula has doubts that she’ll put her name to anything again, and I’m like, “Please, there is no story if you don’t.”

 “Azula didn’t think she would ever get out of the asylum [ . . . ] Zuko refused to even consider releasing her. He would see she wasn’t crazy anymore if he just talked to her, but Zuko wouldn’t even see her. Yeah, Ty Lee knew they had a bad history, but wasn’t it a Fire Lord’s job to take care of all his subjects, even the ones he didn’t like? It made her mad just thinking about it, about him. Why wouldn’t he listen? Didn’t he care?”—Well for one thing, Ty Lee, if Zuko lets Azula out of the asylum, she’ll have to stand trial. She’ll also no longer be under his control, which he cares about much more than Azula herself.

 “Azula said not to come back for her birthday, but she didn’t say when to come back. And Ty Lee was left wondering if the answer was, well…never. No. Azula was her friend. She was as much, and meant it.”—So good to see someone having faith in Azula! You go, Ty Lee!

 In the present day, the other Kyoshi Warriors all know that Azula has escaped the asylum, but no one has told Ty Lee.

 “her skirts falling to cover the linen pantalettes most Kyoshins hadn’t even know were part of the uniform, until Ty Lee arrived.”—This is very funny, given what it implies about Ty Lee’s love of acrobatics.

 Aww, Azula is wearing her hair in a braid like Ty Lee taught her. I know it’s more practical for her long hair, but it’s also sweet (and smart, not wearing it in the traditional Fire Nation topknot).

 Ty Lee, our sweet summer child, thinks that Zuko let Azula go. “Azula frowned, and a guardedness stole over her face. For once, she looked more sad than angry at the mention of her brother.”—That stings. But the two go inside to discuss Azula’s escape more, since Azula quickly establishes that she broke herself out.

 Ty Lee’s house is a mess, because of course it is, but Azula doesn’t actually mind—probably too tired to. “Ty Lee stared. Since when was Azula fine with messy surroundings? She was such a neat-freak even when they were kids that she cleaned Ty Lee’s room unprompted practically every time she came over. One of the lesser-known benefits of having the princess for a friend.”—This is rather funny. I would also not be surprised if, in a modern setting, Azula was diagnosed with some form of OCD, given this sort of behavior.

 Azula is very chill and polite during this visit—you can see how much she’s grown when contrasting this to how she treated Ty Lee in the flashback—and perks up at the thought of food. Ty Lee starts to make breakfast, thinking about what Azula’s escape might mean. We get more about how the Kyoshi Warriors are still bitter at Azula, and how Ty Lee sticking up for Azula drove a wedge between her and the others. “Four years, and it was like they didn’t trust her at all!”—Probably because they don’t, where Azula is concerned.

 “And she would do just about anything for Azula. Anything but hurt another friend. She drew that line at the boiling Rock, and for all her doubts, Ty Lee didn’t think the princess would cross it again.”—Good, Ty Lee, I’m glad that you’ve set a boundary. Though you might want to be more worried about Mai now, since she would benefit from Azula being hurt or killed, and is still in demonizing Azula mode.

 Apparently, back when they were travelling together, Azula would start the campfire and then do firebending practice, rather than helping cook or set up camp, which was self-centered of her. There’s a faint echo of this set-up here, though it’s happening in Ty Lee’s home, and Azula stays put this time.

 Ty Lee asks when Azula escaped, and Azula admits that it was on her birthday—Ty Lee had visited two days before—and Ty Lee asks her a piercing question about why she didn’t want Ty Lee there for it: “Was it because—you didn’t want to make me choose again? Or because [ . . . ] you didn’t think I’d choose you?”

 Azula admits that there was some of both reasons in there, which Ty Lee is hurt by. “Azula had issues with trust, she knew that. But she still couldn’t help thinking, It’s like nobody trusts me at all! All she wanted was for everyone to like her. Was that so much to ask?”—This is self-centered of Ty Lee, but I’m amused by how this quote ends. No, Ty Lee, not everyone is going to like you, and that’s okay. It sucks, but that’s just how life is. But she’s what, eighteen, so of course that will take some time for her to internalize. Even though I, personally, do think everyone should like her, because she’s great.

 “‘I would have chose you,’ Ty Lee said softly, seating herself beside the princess to put them on equal conversational footing. She reached across the table and their empty plates to grasp Azula’s arm. ‘It was wrong of Zuko to keep you there. I told him so, lots of times.’”—This is such a sweet moment and strikes a great contrast to the conversation they had in the flashback. Whereas Azula lashed out in the flashback and Ty Lee wasn’t sure what to do, now Azula is being vulnerable and accepting Ty Lee’s comfort. It’s really nice.

 “Azula looked up with a sad smile. ‘I know you did.’”—My heart!

 Azula then surprises Ty Lee by asking about her mother, Princess Ursa, and where Zuko searched for her. Mostly he searched in the colonies (have those reverted to the Earth Kingdom or are they still Fire Nation-owned?), but lost the trail at the Great Divide. That place is such a curse to our heroes, isn’t it?

 Ty Lee thinks that this is a new adventure to go on with Azula, which on the one hand, I would love, but on the other hand, I’m offended on behalf of the Kyoshi Warriors. Is she just planning to ditch them? Also, from a meta standpoint, she’d be third-wheeling later on. Azula gently shoots the idea down, but proposes that Ty Lee be her ally among her enemies. Not a spy, but a safety net. Ty Lee initially thinks about how Azula once burned her own safety net, but then thinks, “She’s not that person anymore [ . . . ] She’s changed.” Which I do think is true. Azula has a lot of lingering problems, but she does seem genuine about making things up to Ty Lee. So Ty Lee agrees to the deal.

 And then the eggs burn and Azula vomits at the smell. Azula reveals that she’s been getting sick a lot lately, which she chalks up to the Earth Kingdom’s food being too heavy. Ty Lee is skeptical of this, and then puts the pieces together before Azula does: Azula is pregnant! Ty Lee is pretty adorably excited about this, not noticing that Azula is quietly panicking, and asks who the father is, which is a line of questioning that Azula shuts down: “‘He’s married [ . . . ] and even if he weren’t, completely worthless.’”

 Ty Lee’s exuberance will not be deterred, but Azula is very much not excited: “I’m on the run from the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom both. This can only slow me down, and make it harder to hide. I should—“—Get rid of it. But Azula isn’t going to, even though she knows that it’s not strategically sound for her to be pregnant, let alone have a baby. At the same time, abortion carries its own, potentially deadly risks.

 “And an awful thought occurred to Ty Lee, one too terrible to put to words even. This whole time, she had imagined Azula falling in love with some handsome guard who spirited her away in the middle of the night, or a brave young general who always loved her from afar and broke her out of the asylum to restore her crown…. But she was pregnant, and alone. That should have been Ty Lee’s first clue something was wrong.”—Woof. She doesn’t think that Azula might have been assaulted here, but she does sense that there was nothing romantic in what happened. Also, her fantasies for Azula are so saccharine! XD  

 When Ty Lee asks for more info, Azula, blushing with shame, says, “‘I don’t—even remember most of it. It might have happened to someone else.’”—Confirming that she was disassociating in chapter seven.

 Azula starts crying and Ty Lee hugs her. Azula returns the hug and rambles about how this is another way for “him” to control her, and how much she doesn’t want him to have power over her, which Ty Lee doesn’t understand. But she’s supportive of Azula and tells her that she’ll get through this, because Azula always figures something out.

 Ty Lee takes Azula back inside and notices that her aura is a mix of colors, including lemon-yellow, which she thought happened when Azula was lying, but actually represents the fear of losing control. Which, you know, makes sense coming from Azula. The white with white sparkles is the baby.

 “Wow, Azula with a baby. It was hard to imagine. But he’d be next in line for the throne, after Lu Ten and Azula herself. Unless—did illegitimate children still inherit? Ty Lee should know this, she used to be a noble.”—Oh Ty Lee, sweetie. No, bastards don’t inherit unless they are legitimized by royal decree. Granted, it’s possible, even probable, that this child will be legitimized, though Zuko would have to be the one to do it. Unless Azula claimed the throne, in which case, she could do it herself. Which would be great. Upset that monarchal system, Azula, it’s terrible!

 “Or maybe she would have a girl! Ty Lee hoped she had a girl, one who looked just like her. Ty Lee wondered what the father looked like.”—Pretty dang similar, Ty Lee! Pretty dang similar!

 Kaede, one of the Kyoshi Warriors, comes knocking on Ty Lee’s door to tell her about Azula’s escape. You know, only a month late. Ty Lee yells to try to wake Azula up, because Azula is a light sleeper. Yeah, abuse trains you not to sleep too deeply.

 Kaede catches on to the fact that Ty Lee might have Azula around when she sees there are two plates set out, though Ty Lee tries to throw her off the scent by suggesting that she’s waiting for Shan Mo, her newest suitor. Oh Ty Lee, if only you were bi and dating girls too, then Kaede couldn’t catch you out on this lie. Apparently, the men take long fishing trips. Kaede insists on going in and checking the house out, but fortunately, Azula has already fled.

 Kaede and Ty Lee follow her into the woods. Kaede is shocked to see Azula looking like such a mess, and Azula, being a quick-thinker, loudly accuses Ty Lee of betraying her. It takes Ty Lee a second to catch on, and her response is hilarious: “You’re mean, and I hate you for ALL TIME!” Even if Ty Lee was an amazing actress, I’m pretty sure Kaede wouldn’t have bought this. Not when Ty Lee has been visiting Azula for years now, with her last visit being a scant two days before Azula broke out. The Kyoshi Warriors might even think she helped somehow, even if Ty Lee didn’t accompany Azula off of Ember Island.

 “Kaede had drawn her katana, but actually lowered it along with her fan to glance at Ty Lee in disbelief.”—Your distraction, Kaede, is why you’re about to get your butt whooped.

 There is some fighting, which is dynamic and exciting, but this cuteness is what sticks out to me: “Ty Lee couldn’t help grinning up at Azula, when the princess flipped overhead. It was always cool to see her combine firebending with the acrobatics Ty Lee taught her. It made her feel a warm glow of accomplishment inside, as if she were the one to pull that off.”—I blame you entirely for making me ship them, Aurelia. Stuff like this makes me want them to take over the palace and raise Azula’s baby together.

 Azula knocks Kaede out, and when Ty Lee goes to check on Kaede to confirm that she’s okay, Azula makes a sarcastic quip about what a relief that is. Ty Lee isn’t upset by this—she’s happy that Azula still has her sense of humor: “Most people didn’t realize Azula had a sense of humor, ‘cause it was kind of a black humor. But when she lost it, that was always a bad sign.”—Contrast this later to how alarmed a certain someone is by Azula’s dark humor, and how Azula reacts to it.

 “‘Listen, you’re going to be fine [ . . . ] You’re the most beautiful, smartest, perfect girl in the world!’”—First, be more bi, Ty Lee. Be more bi. Second, Azula just nods in response to this, as if she’s humoring Ty Lee’s views of her. She doesn’t actually seem to believe these things about herself anymore, if she ever did.

 Azula suggests that Ty Lee needs to be knocked out when the other Warriors find her, and Ty Lee reveals that she can do that to herself: “Ty Lee had ended up practicing that move on herself and volunteers of varying willingness a lot of times, before she got it right.”—Never change, Ty Lee.  

 Ty Lee doesn’t let Azula leave without a hug this time. Azula hugs her back, and also gives Ty Lee a backwards glance goodbye as she goes. How they’ve both grown since the flashback! Loving the parallelism here!

 As Azula heads out, she focuses on the negatives of being pregnant. She then has this truly depressing series of thoughts: “Azula took a moment to wonder if this was how her mother felt about her. If Ursa ever considered ending it, ending her before she ever came into the world. Her mother hadn’t wanted another child, Dad told her. Their marriage had already soured by then, and she was happy in her precious son. But Zuko was a weakling, her father knew it even then. So he demanded another, and her mother complied. She might have acted in secret to prevent him, maybe even did a few times before Azula…. But she could not deny him forever. So Ozai got his wish. And Azula got a mother who hated her existence.”

 First, Ozai had no business telling Azula any of that, and almost certainly did it to turn Azula against her mother and draw her closer to him. Second, this paints a very dark picture of Ozai and Ursa’s marriage—a picture we will later learn to be true. It shows the ugliness of a society where divorce isn’t permitted, and where wives are obligated to have their husbands’ children, regardless of what they themselves want.

 Azula then starts to consider herself as a potential parent. “Could she do that to a child? [ . . . ] Even if it lived—and with such unfortunate paternity, there was every chance it wouldn’t—could Azula give it that kind of start?”—The fact that she’s wondering this is a promising sign, even if Azula doesn’t realize it yet. It’s also relatable to any victim of child abuse who worries about mistreating their own children, someday.

 “You had a father who loved you [ . . . ] How many times did she tell herself that was enough? Enough that he wanted her, enough that he saw her worth?”—Azula, sweetie, if you have to tell yourself this, then it means you don’t have enough emotional support in your life, even from him.

 “This baby, if it lived, wouldn’t have even that. Her brother had been happy enough to take advantage, but he didn’t ask for this either. And Zuko never took responsibility for anything, unless it made him look good. His failings were always someone else’s fault. Usually hers.”—This is ugly, but also true about Zuko. I do think that he made progress in the show, between apologizing to Iroh and helping the Avatar. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t slip up and fall back into old habits sometimes, especially where Azula is concerned. After all, how would she know that he’s grown as a person, when he’s never showed empathy towards her?

 “She blamed the hormones. She blamed her brother, damn him. Damn him. Halfway around the world, and still managed to ruin her life….”—I should note that while I’m not a fan of Zuko’s behavior, Azula is just as poisoned against him. She’s not wrong about this. But she’ll have to deal with her bitterness towards him too, someday.

 Azula runs into another group of Warriors and thinks, “They fancied themselves as defenders, not aggressors. Azula counted that about as smart as fighting with one hand tied behind your back.”—This might be a viewpoint shaped by her being a part of a colonizing force, rather than a defending one. I also notice that as she gives them a speech, she goes into a stance where one arm is shielding her core. That could just be a part of the form, but it could also be a subtle, unconscious way of protecting the baby.

 During the fight that follows, Azula uses Ty Lee’s techniques against the group, but never aims to kill them—something that can not be said of the Kyoshi Warriors, since they’re using live steel.

 “Azula considered them coolly when they fell back to regroup, failing to see the appeal. But then, Ty Lee always did have bad taste when left to her own devices. It was probably inevitable this would extend to her chosen companions.”—Somewhere, Mai is snickering at Azula’s expense. But also, have a little more faith in Ty Lee, Azula.

 “A minute’s swordplay, and they forgot that she could firebend. It might almost be funny, if it wasn’t just sad.”—LOL.

 “The rain of blows was almost more than Azula could keep up with, her training with blades being nowhere near as extensive as, for example, her brother’s.”—I’m shocked. Azula is admitting that Zuko is better than her at something!

 “Never bring a sword to a firefight [ . . . ] Sokka’s little tart might have told you so, if she ever bothered to learn.”—I think this might be the first time that Azula has referenced a member of the Gaang (sans Zuko) by name. It implies that she has a little more respect for him than the others.

 One of the downed Warriors says that the Earth Kingdom is planning to take Azula’s head off, to which Azula sarcastically remarks, “‘Trusting to the competence of others [ . . . ] Always a sound strategy.’”—I see Azula’s point that trusting strangers to do a job for you probably isn’t going to work out. However, she should know the value of teamwork, given her journey with Mai and Ty Lee. Possibly she’ll really embrace the concept down the road, but we’ll see.

 “And for all that Azula could probably blast enough of them to ashes to make an instructive example, that would hardly contribute to her friendship with Ty Lee.”—Ah yes, making up excuses for why you don’t want to kill people, Azula. Ozai would not have hesitated.

 As Azula passes through town, I’ll note there are many men in the crowd, so perhaps Kaede’s comment earlier referred to a specific group of them. Also, as they start to chase after her, Azula does something very cool: “Azula [ . . . ] punched the sand. And blue flames flared from her fist like phoenix wings, surging to twice her own height when they seared down the beach in either direction, drawing a line of fire in the sand. Her attackers scrambled back with gasps and a few yells, when her fire fused the grains to glass and leapt high to hide her from view, fed by her chi. Even those who fought the Fire Navy would not have seen this kata, taught almost exclusively for exhibition firebending. Azula herself hadn’t practiced it in a few months, and was gratified that she remembered it so well.”

 It shouldn’t surprise me that Azula knows firebending moves that are for exhibitions, rather than combat, but I love the thought of her tackling these moves just for the joy of it. In a different universe, I could see her taking great satisfaction in winning firebending competitions, possibly while in disguise so as not to sway the judges with her royal status. In fact, Aurelia, let’s maybe add that to the Aunt Tam AU. Tam wants her to join an extracurricular at the Academy. Trophies ensue, which may or may not end up in Tam’s china cabinet (which, knowing her, never actually contained china).

 Azula took a tourist boat from Chin Village to get here, which is a fun mental image. She makes a joke about hoping that the villagers can swim, but of course they can. Fortunately, she manages to get away on another boat, but thinks, “Was it going to be like this in every town that recognized her? How tiresome.”—I don’t want to say that’s what you get for being part of an imperialist regime and conquering the largest city in the Earth Kingdom, but…that’s kind of what you get when you do that! XD

 Ty Lee wanted to be an actress at one point. I think she made the right call by joining the circus instead, since it’s much more suited to her talents.

 “It had been six years to the day Ty Lee ran away for the circus”—That’s interesting. Ty Lee left a month after Azula’s thirteenth birthday.

 “An invisible weight seemed to settle in her stomach when she thought back to that, the worst day of her life until she lost the Agni Kai….”—This is very sad. Also, she admits to losing the Agni Kai here, rather than Zuko cheating by having a second.

 Now we return to the flashback we began the chapter with. This time, it’s from Azula’s perspective, and she isn’t doing well. She’s dizzy, in pain, and she’s bleeding heavily, enough so that her thighs are already covered in blood, right after she’s changed clothes. She’s worried she’s going to leave a trail before much longer.

 “No one could know, no one could ever know, she remembered, forcing herself to take one step, then another. He said, never tell….”—This is horrifying.

 “How could there be anything still left inside her? He said that this would end it, he said that it was safe. Their own court physician handed her the prescription, and told her how to brew the tea.”—But did he say how much to take? Also, why in god’s name weren’t you kept in the infirmary? Sure, that would risk someone finding out what’s going on, but if Ozai hadn’t summoned Azula, Azula would probably have bled to death in her bedroom. The only reason that she didn’t die was because a servant went to get a doctor. Alternatively, Ty Lee probably would have gotten a doctor, but either way, sending her to her room alone was a bad idea. You need to observe someone who’s going through this in case something bad happens. Which, you know (gestures wildly at the blood).

 “It was too late for these doubts [ . . . ] The time for doubt, if it had ever been, was gone.”—Azula, I’m going to be straight with you. You’re dying. It’s natural to have doubts now.

 “Her father was waiting for her, and she couldn’t disappoint him. Especially now…. He had said it was his fault. He miscalculated. She couldn’t have known. He spoke so softly when he said it, he didn’t even sound like himself. But that it happened at all suggested a lack of control. She had to prove she was still in control, always in control. She had to prove he could depend on her in anything—”—Or, maybe, and I know this is wild, Azula, but hear me out: YOU DO NOT NEED TO MAKE UP FOR YOUR FATHER’S FAILINGS. YOU ARE A CHILD. HE SHOULD BE TAKING CARE OF YOU, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND. IF HE WAS TAKING CARE OF YOU LIKE A PROPER PARENT, THIS WOULDN’T HAVE HAPPENED.

 Of course, I’m talking to a wall of text right now, but sue me, this part makes me emotional.

 Azula collapses, much to the alarm of the servant. Azula grabs her wrist and orders her to get a doctor, but the servant is “staring with eyes wide as saucers at something near Azula’s feet.” Which is blood, by the way—a spreading pool of blood. Best case scenario, the palace staff assumes that someone stabbed the princess. But in all likelihood, it’s clear to the servant what this is and what it means. If the servant is smart, she’ll say nothing. But I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a staffing purge after this, and I mean that in a very permanent sense.

 “A cold heaviness settled over her like a blanket of snow.”—I wonder how Azula knows what that feels like?

 “It was only when she was gone and the abandoned hall grew dim round her, that Azula let her tears fall. It was only then she let herself wonder, if her father intended this all along….”—Ooof, this hurts.

 “It was all training. She knew that, he knew that. But he had been very clear. No one else could know. They wouldn’t understand. It would mean the end of his reign as Fire Lord, the end of her place in the line of succession.”—Then why, in god’s name, did you do this, Ozai? Why take on this much risk? I daresay it’s overconfidence, since he didn’t foresee what’s happening to Azula right now, but good lord, he’s really something else.

 “He could always have more children [ . . . ] With someone who isn’t his daughter.”—God, I hate this. This poor kid!

 “But then…why send Ty Lee away? Azula grasped at the possibility. He must not want her to know what they did, but—But why bother to hurt you, when what he really meant was to kill you? She shuddered, bending in on herself. It occurred to her in that moment that there was something profoundly wrong with her life, if this was the only explanation she could find for it.”—There it is. For just a moment, Azula realizes what how nightmarish her life and her relationship with her father are. She’s going to bury this truth, but deep down, she knows that this is wrong. Even if it’s going to take her years to face it again.

 “She wished she hadn’t sent Ty Lee away. She wished it until the same image came unbidden to her mind, as when her friend revealed her father’s hand in this. Ty Lee with a scar like Zuko’s, smiling, still smiling until she winced. And the same pain blossomed in her chest as before, surpassing what she felt now as the sun surpassed the moon. She couldn’t let it happen.”—Azula loves Ty Lee so much, even if she’s bad at showing it. I think that if Azula had to chose between Ty Lee and her father, this tells us who she would pick, even if no one, even Azula, would believe it.

 Azula blacks out and wakes up intermittently in the infirmary over the following days. “She was in [ . . . ] the same bed they put her brother in when Dad scarred him, ironically enough.”—Yes, that sure is ironic, considering that Ozai’s abuse towards Azula is what landed her here, just like with Zuko.

 “Her father was never there when she woke. She wondered if he came while she slept. She wondered if she even wanted him to.”—Good. Be disillusioned with him. Don’t want him around. I think if you were in any shape to run away from him, I’d encourage you to do so. Catch up with Ty Lee and show off your firebending at the circus. I mean, I know Ozai would track you down soon afterwards, but I just want good things for you, Azula. Staying with him will not accomplish that.

 “He drew a chair up beside her bed and took a seat as if this were an invitation. Not that he needed one.”—I hate monarchies and patriarchies so much.

 Azula can’t even sit up from the pain, which Ozai frowns at. What a dick.

 “It was disrespectful not to look at him when he was speaking, but she couldn’t seem to do it.”—I wouldn’t want to look at him either, Azula. He’s awful. “And she closed her eyes at this, feeling as if the longer he sat there, the less air there was in the room.”—This is a bad sign, Azula, on top of all the warning klaxons and flashing danger lights.

 “She raised her eyes to his face and traced the line of his jaw, the arch of his brows, the slant of his eyes. All features he passed on to her.”—Ugh.

 “This was kinder than she could remember him being in a long time. It should have made her feel better. But it didn’t.”—She is so defeated here, and I don’t blame her for it.

 Ozai, being a despicable person, says that this never needs to happen again—not because he’s planning to stop her training, but because he now realizes that using birth control would be a good idea! Azula is understandably horrified. “She almost died, and he wasn’t going to stop.”—Run, Azula. Run away as fast as you can. You will die if you stay in this relationship. I suspect the only reason you didn’t was because of how the events in the show worked out.

 “He must have felt her hands jump under his, because Ozai tightened his grip, his hand grown hot enough to sear her skin. A warning of what she could expect if she failed him. Azula knew better than to betray any sign of discomfort.”—Aang, maybe you should have killed Ozai. I get why you didn’t. I get why the writers of the show didn’t want to go in that direction. But Ozai is a monstrous person. Even if he wasn’t trying to conquer the world and willing to burn whole chunks of it to accomplish that goal, how he treats his children is heinous.

 Ozai gives her a speech about why her training is important, and I’m sitting here like, “Cool motive, still sexual abuse.” There were other ways Azula could have learned this material—books, lectures from courtesans, maybe some experimentations of her own when she was old enough for it. Instead, the trauma from this abuse is going to haunt her well into adulthood. None of this is making her stronger, either. If anything, it’s left her vulnerable to inappropriate sexual advances, and has made it so that she dissociates during sex, rather than being present for it.

 “‘There will always be those who underestimate you, because you were born second, or born a woman.’ She knew he spoke from experience, and felt the same warm glow she always did inside, when he shared that with her. ‘Do not let it gall you as I did, my dear.’”—This would almost be sweet if Ozai wasn’t an emotionally manipulative jerk.

 “He stood then, and surprised her by bending to place a light kiss on her forehead, his big hand cupping her chin. He hadn’t done that since she was a little girl”—I hate him so much. This is also manipulative, though I’m not sure if Ozai realizes that that’s what he’s doing.

 “Your reaction to the herb was…unexpected. And Lao will pay dearly for it, once your recovery is complete.”—Lao vanished soon afterwards, never to be seen or heard from again.

 “I do not mean to harm you [ . . . ] I hope you never doubted that.”—But do your intentions matter when you DID harm her, haven’t apologized for it, and won’t change your actions to ensure her safety in the future?

 “‘I never did,’ Azula said quietly. That almost-smiled tugged at the corners of his mouth then, and she knew that he was pleased. It was the first time she succeeded in lying to her father. Azula felt hollow inside.”—Azula has lost her faith in her father. This isn’t a bad thing, though. What’s unfortunate is that she can’t and won’t leave him, even after all of this trauma. I suspect that she’ll think that she has to take care of him, because he’s a flawed human being who “needs” her. But something has broken here, and I hope that someday, she’ll be able to leave him behind. But it’s probably going to be a long time before that happens.

 And that wraps up chapter twelve! As always, thank you for the read, Aurelia!

 Sincerely,

WiseAbsol    

[elareine]

Adamare (2/7)

Read here on ao3. 

Year Two 

Jason hurried down the steps of the dungeons. He didn’t want to be late. 

They had been assigned a partner work for Transfiguration class, a project that took weeks to brew and would be 40% of their grade this year. Since Jason was very much the odd one out in his year, he had been assigned to work with the remaining Slytherin in his class: Tim Drake. 

They had classes together before. Jason hadn’t known much about Tim beyond noting that he was intelligent when he bothered, which he mostly didn’t. He’d done his share in the project without complaint, though. 

Actually, he hadn’t talked much at all. Or smiled. Maybe he just didn’t like Jason? 

Eh, whatever, not like Jason cared. At least Tim was punctual as always today, already waiting for him outside the storage room where their animation was housed for the time being.

“Hey,” Jason greeted him. 

“Hey.” 

Looked like Tim was feeling conversational today. He was looking at the ground instead of Jason, too. “Alright, let’s get this done,” Jasons said, opening the door. 

The project was supposed to teach them how to layer and interlock charms. Jason suspected it was more about losing your nerve with fiddly stuff. They’d quickly decided they would work on it a bit most days of the weeks instead of all at once, and it was coming along beautifully, the little farm animals moving and interacting as if they were alive. Today, they were going to start adding sounds. 

Or they would have, had the room been empty, but no. Huxley and Sebastian, the two main instigators of trouble in their year, together with two others Jason didn’t know well, were in there, doing something to projects that Jason couldn’t see.

“Hey, what’re you up to?” he asked, stepping into the room. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Tim tense. 

“None of your business, mudblood!” Sebastian sneered. “Why don’t you tell your real daddy to write a complaint? Oh wait, he can’t, because he doesn’t even have an owl.”

Jason mentally rolled his eyes. Wizard society and their insistence on magical bloodlines. It was as if none of these fuckers had ever visited a history class—oh wait, they hadn’t, because the only thing taught at this school was magical history, and Jason suspected even that was heavily edited. 

“Let’s just go. We can come back later,” he murmured to Tim, who nodded, his face unreadable. But before they could, Huxley blocked the door. 

“Didn’t you hear me, mudblood?” 

“No, sorry, could you maybe speak just a little bit louder? I think there’s a deaf granny in Las Vegas who hasn’t heard you.” 

“What?” 

“Las Vegas? It’s a big city.” Jason spoke extra slow as if he was talking to a particularly stupid four-year-old. “City, that’s a place where people live—” 

Huxley turned purple and drew his wand. “You asshole, I’ll show you—”

Tim just lifted his wand, smiled and whispered, “Petrificus Totalus,” perfect wand motion and all. Huxley went down like a stone. 

“What the—you’ll pay for that!” His friends tried to advance on them, wands drawn and intent on hexing them. 

Jason watched how fixated they were on his left hand holding the wand, actually rolled his eyes this time, and punched Sebastian in the gut with his right. He might be shorter than anyone else his age, but at least he didn’t rely purely on his magic. 

“Expelliarmus,” Tim said, and the two remaining boys found themselves without a wand. They immediately looked terrified. Jason introduced one of them to his right hook anyway, just cause he could. The last one standing shrank from him, so he didn’t bother.

“Anything else?” Jason drawled. 

The boy visibly decided that retreat was the best part of valor. 

“You’ll never be one of us, you—you psychos! A mudblood and a psycho!” Parting shots fired, they left, dragging their petrified friend along by the shoulders. 

The room was silent. 

When they didn’t come back after a minute or so, Jason allowed himself to exhale. “Well, that was… fun?” 

Tim snorted. “Fun.” 

“Huxley’s face when you petrified him? C’mon, that was funny. No wonder they left spewing insults.”

Tim didn’t answer directly. “Are you one? Like they said?” 

“Am I what? A psychopath? All signs point to yes.” 

“A mudblood.” 

“I have absolutely no idea.” Honestly, maybe his mom had merely been too drugged up to show him her magic, and his dad stupid enough to get himself locked up and killed despite his. Jason could be a pureblood for all he knew. 

Yeah, Jason didn’t think so either. 

There was no need to ask Tim the same question. The Drakes were one of the oldest pureblood families and proud of it, even Jason knew that. Begged the question of why Tim had even defended him. 

Just as he was about to ask, however, Tim looked over his shoulder, and his eyes widened. “Oh, no.” 

Jason turned around. Fuck. 

He stared at the remains of their project in dismay. It would take days to fix all this, just to get back to where they had been. Tim wouldn’t want to invest that much time in it, and Jason wouldn’t be able to do it by himself, and then his grades would suffer and—

Bruce wasn’t going to throw him out because of one mediocre grade. Jason knew that. He knew that. 

There was gentle pressure on his elbow. “We can fix this,” Tim said. 

Jason made himself look at him, but Tim’s face was turned down even as he continued: “We’ll just have to camp out during the weekend.” 

“You’d do that?” 

“Of course.” Was that a blush? “I’m not going to leave you hanging.” 

Jason took a deep breath, and then another. “Okay. Okay, let’s just… check what’s left, and clean up.” 

Tim pressed his elbow again and smiled at the floor. “Sure.” 

When he entered the Great Hall the next morning for breakfast, Jason looked around. Tim wasn’t with his usual Gryffindor friends. Instead, he sat at the Slytherin table, keeping a notable distance from the other members of his house. Now that Jason thought about it, he’d seen the other boy alone more often than not for the last few weeks. 

With a glance, Jason confirmed that Roy and Kori wouldn’t miss him (they were holding hands under the table again, Jason knew that expression on their faces,) and changed course. Tim’s face when Jason slid into the seat next to him and started helping himself to food was pretty priceless. 

Tim stared him for a full minute before asking: “What are you doing?” 

Jason stalled: “Uh—” 

He had no idea what to say. 

The corner of Tim’s mouth began to switch. ��You didn’t think this through, did you?” 

“Nope.” 

Tim was full-on grinning. “Wanna talk about that book you’ve been carrying around for weeks, and I’ll rant at you about Quidditch?”

“Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

“…that’s not my name.” 

“I know.” 

[thedyingmoon]

💚 See Me Now 💚

***

XIV. Training

***

(F/N) rose up early the next morning. She's in full gear and uniform.

And she's waiting for someone.

She was leaning on a tree, her arms crossed, thinking of many plausible explanations for her absence of two weeks. She was quite nervous. What would she say? What does she think of me now?

Fortunately, (F/N) didn't have to wait for long. She could already see her emerging from the building, and she could also see that she's wearing her gear, like what she told her to do last night.

She saw her, too, and she didn't look the least bit happy to see her.

(F/N) gulped nervously.

"Thank you for coming, Mikasa." (F/N) uttered while attempting a smile, which came out weak and unconvincing. This didn't please Mikasa.

"(F/N)," said Mikasa calmly. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I,... want you to train me."

Mikasa raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Isn't Captain Levi the one who's training you?"

"Wait, who told you that?"

"The Commander."

Mikasa was surely not wasting her time. This made (F/N) even more nervous.

"He's not training me, Mikasa." (F/N) told the raven - haired girl. It was the truth.

"If not, then why are you hanging around with him?"

"I'm his new assistant."

"Okay, I understand." said Mikasa, then turned to leave. "If you don't want to tell me the truth, that's fine."

"Mikasa, wait!" (F/N) grabbed the end of Mikasa's collar in an attempt to stop her from leaving. The tough girl just shrugged (F/N)'s hand off. A lump suddenly grew in the girl's throat. "Do you,... hate me now?"

"I don't hate you, (F/N)." Mikasa faced her once more. "I just hate how you cling to the man who hurt you like nothing happened. Sure, he chose you to be his assistant, but (F/N), have you forgotten what he did to you? You should've refused him! Are you really that numb?"

(F/N) finally let her tears fall. "I'm not,..."

"Here we go again. (F/N), stop being so weak, for crying out loud!"

"I'm trying not to!" her uncontrolled sobs were gradually becoming louder. "I'm trying to be strong, Mikasa. Despite all the looks that everyone was giving me for simply being with the Captain. And it hurts me to see you ignoring me, as well as the others."

Mikasa said nothing. (F/N) went closer to her and grabbed the other girl's shoulders. "Stop this, (F/N),..."

"Listen to me, Mikasa, please,..." she pleaded. "It's not by my own wishes that I became his assistant. The Commander chose me for it. I have no choice but to obey!"

"And what is the reason?"

"I,... can't tell you."

Mikasa looked deeply hurt. She forcefully removed (F/N)'s hand and turned the other way. "Then, this conversation is over! Goodbye, (F/N)."

"Mikasa, please, wait!" The girl didn't listen. She just went on walking back to the building. "Promise me that you'll be very cautious. Please, be always safe. Promise me, Mikasa!"

"Safe from what?" a deep baritone uttered not far from where (F/N) was standing. Mikasa obviously recognized the voice as she turned to look back at (F/N) with shocked, wide eyes. (F/N) looked behind her and saw none other than Jean Kirschtein emerging from behind one of the large trees. He was, apparently, very well hidden that the girls didn't notice that he was there, all along. "(F/N), what is really happening here? Please, tell me."

"What are you doing here, Jean?" Mikasa went back, demanding to know the reason behind Jean's actions.

The boy looked at her. He was very serious. "I'm watching over you."

"What?" Mikasa was utterly flabbergasted.

(F/N) was really tensed. Why are you telling her that, Jean? Mikasa must never know!

"You heard me."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Section Commander's orders. (F/N) is doing the same for the Captain." Jean focused his sight on (F/N), who seem to further sink from where she was standing. "Why don't you start telling us right now what's really going on in here, (F/N). Come on, I don't have to force you, yes?"

(F/N) bit her lip. There's no way out. "Ms. Hange and Commander Erwin will definitely kill me for this,..."

So, she told them everything. And what the two heard completely shocked them.

"So, what you mean to say is that Captain Levi is,...?" Jean said.

"Yes." (F/N) admitted.

"So, that's why the Commander is not allowing anyone to go out, save for the officers."

"This serum you're talking about," said Mikasa."It only works for us, Ackermans, right?"

"Yes, Mikasa. Their sole purpose is to kill all of you."

"And right now, Section Commander's doing everything she can to produce the antidote. With the Expedition in barely two weeks, we can't afford to have the Captain in that awful state."

"I'm afraid to say you're right, Jean."

"So, any breakthroughs?"

(F/N) shook her head. "I wanted to help him get his strength back, but I couldn't do anything else, except for obeying Commander Erwin."

Mikasa was beginning to feel guilty of everything she just told (F/N). "Is Captain Levi still being awful to you, (F/N)?" her voice was gentle.

The girl just nodded. "So, I, ah, understand if you won't help me, Mikasa. I want to get stronger, not for him, but for my sake. I really want to prove him wrong for telling me that I'm such a pathetic weakling." she gave Mikasa a weak, yet honest smile, conveying her true feelings for her friend. "It's okay, Mikasa. Now that you know, you must promise me that you'll always keep safe, okay?"

Mikasa didn't say anything. Instead, she launched herself towards (F/N) and engulfed her in a very suffocating hug.

"Mika - ?"

"I'm so sorry, (F/N). I, we, judged you, and we didn't even know what's going on!"

"It's okay. I understand,..."

"You must be very lonesome. You're facing this all by yourself!"

You don't have the slightest idea how lonesome that is,...

Jean was scratching his head, unable to look at such show of feminine emotions. "If you want, (F/N), I'm willing to train you - "

"Okay, I'll train you, (F/N). I'll help you in anyway I can. Show him that you're no pushover!" Mikasa said, not hearing what Jean just offered. "But, please, will you forgive me?"

"Of course, Mikasa." (F/N) was admittedly smiling like an idiot. She was also crying. She didn't really care. She got Mikasa back.

From that day onward, Mikasa and (F/N) started getting up early, preferably at dawn, to train in secret, with Jean overseeing her progress.

She may be weak, but she's starting to learn. Jean noticed how long (F/N)'s endurance really was. Mikasa noticed it, too, so they began giving her harder combat lessons which were far more advanced than what the Squad Leaders were teaching them at the time. Mikasa was more than willing to teach (F/N) everything she knew about combat, and she was very surprised upon knowing that the girl was such a fast learner.

Jean watched in awe as the once weak girl could now match strengths with him as they fought each other during their secret training. Squad Leader Nanaba noticed this, as well five days later for another combat training. She noticed how (F/N) was skillfully reserving her stamina by doing very little, and yet effective attacks. She was even amazed when the girl managed to bring down three men, namely Jean, Eren and Connie, without depleting much of her stamina. The Scouts clapped and cheered as they watched (F/N) beating down Connie with a strong kick that sent the poor boy squirming in pain.

"S-sorry, Connie!" (F/N) said as she helped the boy stand.

"It's okay, (F/N)." the boy said. "Wow! You've gotten really strong!"

"Thanks."

(F/N) was very surprised when Squad Leader Mike Zacharius suddenly ruffled her hair. "It's too early for celebration, Cadette." he said to her, then smiled. "Let's see what you're really made of. Everyone, gear up!"

Which means it's time for some three - dimensional maneuvering action.

(F/N) waited patiently for her turn, thinking of everything Mikasa and Jean taught her about maneuvering. What was it again, the thing on preserving gas?

"GO!" Mike yelled, signaling for (F/N) to begin.

"Y-yes, sir!"

(F/N) launched herself and swiftly maneuvered her way to the forest looking for dummies to slice. Mikasa and the others followed, eager to see the girl as she began hunting for Titans.

You can do this, (F/N), you can do this, Mikasa thought as she flew through the forest. She slightly turned to her right and saw Jean following close beside her. He was pointing at something behind her. She turned and saw some of the girls from (F/N)'s batch. She could hear them talking to each other about (F/N), and the things they were saying were very obnoxious.

"Weak girl suddenly got strong, eh?" one girl said.

"Maybe she's letting the Captain bang her in exchange for training her." another one said.

"You're right. They're always together." the third one said.

"Why isn't he even here, right now? I want Captain Levi to teach me, instead!"

"You mean, you want him to bang you?"

"Whatever!"

"Well, that will never happen, as long as that slut's still here!"

"Hey, what do you say about sabotaging her right now?"

"Yeah, and we can all just say that it was an accident! Just like training days."

"Okay, we'll do this!"

Mikasa gestured Jean to do something to stop them. Jean nodded in agreement and swiftly maneuvered towards the girls, which utterly surprised the hell out of them.

"Hey, ladies!" he began while skillfully maneuvering himself to match their speed. "Want me to teach you how to slice Titans?"

It's working. Mikasa turned just in time to see (F/N) slicing the nape of her first dummy. After a graceful finish, she launched her hook towards the other direction in search for another dummy to attack. Mike and Nanaba followed.

Fifteen minutes later, Jean was still stalling the girls. "...but, the very important thing about Titans is,..."

"SHUT UP! WE'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS! Girls, let's go!"

The two girls followed their leader and maneuvered their way out of Jean's sight. They were too late; (F/N) had already sliced ten Titans.

(F/N) landed gracefully on the ground, her gas only half - consumed. Mikasa, Mike, Nanaba, and Jean landed a few seconds later. The girl turned to Mikasa in delight.

"Mikasa, I did it!"

She was surprised when Mikasa suddenly hugged her. "I'm so proud of you!"

(F/N) smiled. All their hard work had paid off. "I succeeded only because you taught me. Thank you."

Jean smiled. Mike and Nanaba just looked at each other in confusion.

(F/N) may be showing happiness in front of her friends but, deep inside, she's still hurting after what happened in the mess hall that fateful evening.

Yes, she really wanted to get strong.

However, she also wanted to forget the pain of jealousy. Desperately.

***

~ @levi4mikasa , @yepps , @clovemcpandas , @shewolfofficial , @unhappysap , @shortbty14 , @fangurl-ontgeside , and @super-peace-fangirl . 💚

***

💚💚💚

***

[ramheavenandhell]

More Rick Than You Think – Chapter 4: This is exactly what it looks like

AN: Finally the last chapter of this story. Theoretically, I still could have stretched this out more, but I didn't see the point. Besides, I'm sure you were also looking forward to finally have some actual Rick/Morty action going ^v^ Warnings: Rick/Morty smut, dirty talk

More Rick Than You Think – Chapter 4: This is exactly what it looks like Rick was in a dilemma. Ever since he had started to entertain the thought about fucking Morty, it was refusing to leave his head. Whenever he was beating off (and not to spying on Morty), he began to fantasize about all the things that he could do to his grandson. He even started to have dreams about it. Of course, to the outside world he acted as unaffected as ever, but mentally it was a heavy burden on him. One that he didn't want to let Morty or anyone know about. However, Rick was only human – even if he was a mad genius that was capable of feats that owned him the right to announce himself to be a god, he was still only a human. And as such, he was bound to eventually reach his breaking point. The circumstances how that unfolded still came completely out of the blue for him. Well, maybe it wasn't really that surprising if he actually were to stop and think about it later on. Everything had started out harmless enough. He was just on another regular adventure with his grandson – not even something that would be deemed life threatening or especially dangerous. They weren't going off in Galactic Federation territory nor was it a planet that was necessarily inhabited by more dangerous or deadly creatures than existed on earth. He just needed a few crystals that were part of his portal fluid formula and no smuggling in any behinds was involved this time either. A completely innocent and harmless collecting mission that was actually pretty boring if it wasn't such a necessity. It wasn't even important for Morty to come along since he didn't need him as a shield and the little bit of work of plucking those crystals from the cave wall was also not tedious enough for him, though a good excuse to have the boy do something to feel like he had some sort of importance and didn't just come along for decoration. Rick always made sure that he involved Morty in their adventures in one way or another even if the little turd often did not appreciate it. The boy's constant complaints about one thing or other were proof of his ungratefulness. In truth, Rick just wanted to teach him something new again, wanting Morty to learn a bit more about how his portal gun worked and know what would be needed to power it if he ever were to build one of his own one day. Though one might wonder, how a simple trip like that could have gone off the rails so badly. Of course, it was Morty's fault again. Or, the fault of his damn teenage hormones. Make of it what you will. It all started relatively quickly to boot. Rick had led Morty inside the small cave where the crystals were and then handed him some tools with which he was supposed to mine them. Not even a minute later, Morty had started to cry out because he had cut himself on the sharp edge of a protruding rock. Of course, Rick had told him that he would fix that later and to not be a pussy and suck it up, but his whiney grandson had kept complaining about it to the point that Rick had examined the wound. He had indeed a rather large gash on his palm, but it was nothing life threatening. Still, being the good grandpa that he was, he had brought the boy back to his parked ship, washed the wound out with his precious (and expansive) vodka – something, to which Morty had winced and complained again – and then wrapped his hand with a bandage. Then he told him to stay at the space car and wait till he would be back with the crystals. So much for the idea to make Morty part of the adventure again. At any rate, Rick mined those glowing green rocks on his own, not thinking that anything more could go wrong today. And who could blame him? When he told Morty to stay at the car and wait, he hadn't really been asking for too much when he expected his grandson to actually listen to him and do that exactly. However, when Rick returned to the space cruiser there was no Morty. Angrily he dumped the little bag filled with crystals in the trunk of the vehicle before venturing out to find the boy. Rick knew that he couldn't be in mortal danger right now and even if he was, that one would be on him. There was nothing on this planet that could have potentially kidnapped him or anything. It was a harmless planet that hadn't developed any kind of intelligent life yet. Fortunately, Rick didn't have to search for all that long. He just found his grandson around the corner of a tall stone formation – without any pants on and petting one of the native animals. A definitely cat-like creature, which looked more than just content from the affection that it received from the human boy. And it seemed to be very curious and interested in the teen, too. Figures that Morty couldn't dig up some rocks with a wounded hand, but for jerking off, it was still good enough. Since Rick was already as peeved as he was, he didn't even consider just staying quiet and hidden and playing voyeur again like usual and instead cleared his throat loudly. Morty immediately turned around to him and looked like a deer caught in headlights while the friendly animal scurried away, scared from the new (and intimidating) presence. "Uh… thi-this isn't—" Morty started, trying to hide his naked lower body from view, but Rick immediately interrupted him.

 "Morty, are you really sure you wanna say that to me. Let's face it, we both know what this looks like and we also know that this is exactly what it is, so don't be stupid, Morty." His grandson looked with bright blushing cheeks and big, wet eyes at him and moved his mouth as if to say something, but no sound came out. "Don't try to act like you're so innocent Morty. Obviously you were trying to fuck with that feline-what-ever-its-name is as-as—like you fucked with your dog." Rick went on. The boy's eyes widened in shock and now he looked like he was really going to cry. Rick sighed at the pathetic sight and pulled himself together so he wouldn't be going too hard on the boy about this.

 So he knelt down in front of Morty and actually had a gentle look in his eyes as he explained, "I know you're that age right now, Morty. Heck, I was young once, too. And it's okay to experiment and all that, but out here in space you can't just go around and fuck whatever, no matter how tempting it is. Trust me, I've made some bad decisions with that. You really need to know what is safe and what is not or it's gonna fuck up your health or might even kill you. So, you should at least ask me in advance if it's safe or not, got it?"

 Morty nodded in understanding, but still looked deeply ashamed. "Ho-how do you know about Snuffles?" he eventually dared to ask. "Oh, I know about all the things that you did. Fucking with your dog. Playing with your sister. Stealing your mom's horse dildos and stuffing them into your ass. You're into some really depraved shit, Morty." Thick tears were gathering in the boy's eyes now and rolled down his soft, round cheeks and Rick mentally congratulated himself. 'Good going, you asshole. Now you did it.' "H-hey, like I said, there's nothing wrong with that, Morty." He tried to calm the brunet again. "Sure, they're a lot of people out there that would say that it's fucked up, but I'm not one of them. You know, grandpa's been around and seen and done some crazy shit and I would lie if I said that I don't have some kinks myself that would be considered questionable."

  Morty sniffed a little, but seemed to considerably calm down even if he was still half-naked and embarrassed about the current situation and topic of their conversation. "R-really?"

"Sure, Morty. I've fucked humans, aliens, all sorts of weird species that would be considered animals and some that are basically only half-sentient plants. And that's not even the tip of the iceberg." Rick assured him. "Fooling around with your sister may seem a little out there, but it's not like you got her pregnant and she is a pretty redhead, so grandpa can see the temptation there. We both like our girls the same."

"For real? You would do that, too?" Morty sounded curious now.

"Eh, sure. Maybe. I'd probably even do you if you were up for it, Morty. You know, show you how much better a real cock is, especially if you're getting it from someone who knows what they're doing and not just an animal that fucks based on its primal needs and instincts alone." Rick winked at his grandson.

This gesture – together with that bold statement – made the brunet blush heavily again. And again, he was in that state of opening and closing his mouth without being able to speak.

Maybe, he questioned if Rick was serious? Or, was he trying to pick up on that offer and didn't know how to ask?

Whatever it may have been, Rick decided to give him an easy out and pushed him on the ground, pressing his lips against his grandson's.

The kiss was chaste and short and Rick murmured, "Want me to show you, Morty?"

Probably still spurred on by the horrible hormones that had led Morty to the stupid decision of trying to copulate with the native fauna, the boy nodded his head and that sealed it. This was all the agreement that Rick wanted and needed and nothing would stop him from fucking the last of Morty's morality out of him now.

With a growl, he latched onto the boy's lips again.

His mind was practically spinning with all the things that he could do to Morty now that he had given his consent. It made him so worked up that he needed to calm himself down again.

'Keep it slow, big boy. No need to get hasty and sloppy.' Really, the last thing that he needed was to give Morty a bad first impression of his skills just because he couldn't control himself now.

He licked at the soft warm lips, prodding with more pressure against them to make his intentions clear and didn't have to wait long before they parted. Quickly his tongue darted inside the hot cavern and plundered it of all its treasures, enjoying the mewling sound that his grandson emitted in reaction to it.

Dammit! Morty tasted so good, it was addictive!

He couldn't get enough of his taste, but on the other hand, he wanted more. So much more.

Rick ripped himself free from the teen's mouth and kissed along his cheek until he reached one sensitive ear. He trailed with his tongue over the lobe and teased the cartilage with soft nibbles, all the while trying to slow down his frantic movements.

His grandson wasn't making it any easier with his breathy moans and how he was writhing underneath him, clawing tightly into the sleeves of his lab coat – especially as he tongued at the entrance of the acoustic duct.

"Nghn…oh-oooh R-Rick~!"

Growling again, Rick bit a little harder into the lobule of the auricle before suckling on it. He slid lower, sucking on the skin of his grandson's neck now and leaving marks that would be hard to hide.

At the same time, he shifted his weight to one hand, so he could shove the other underneath Morty's t-shirt.

His palm glided over the flat stomach that quivered under his touch and wandered further up until he reached a nipple. The brunet moaned loudly as he toyed with the small nub while still leaving a necklace of love bites on the formerly pale and unblemished column of skin.

Feeling the boy's hips raising, that already fully hard erection brushing against the painful bulge in his own pants, was making Rick slowly lose his mind more and more.

Stopping what he was doing, he sat up and tore the shirt of the teen's body, taking a moment to stare and savor the look of his grandson. Morty was panting, his face was flushed, tiny tears clung to his lashes, his lips were red and kiss-swollen, an array of red and purple bruises were decorating his neck and collarbone, tiny nipples hard and cock standing at attention. He was a sight to behold.

God, he just wanted to tease the boy more. Tease him so much until he would be a crying and begging mess underneath him, about to go insane. But even more he wanted to be buried in that sweet ass as soon and deep as possible.

Choosing the middle path, Rick bent down to tease one of the nips with his hot mouth, using one of his hands to play with the other and reaching down to pump the teen's hard flesh. Pre was running freely and Morty's hips tried to move in the same rhythm as his grandfather, thrusting greedily into his fist.

"Uh! Oh, Rick…oh, Rick…" Morty's voice became more desperate with each passing second, clearly steering closer towards his orgasm.

Wasn't that just downright delicious? But Rick didn't want the boy to cum. Not yet and not like this.

He snickered at his grandson's disappointed groan when he stopped once more and quickly pulled off his lab coat, sweater and tank top. Still sitting on top of the boy, he towered over him with a lecherous grin.

"You wanna do it dirty with your old, filthy grandpa, Morty?"

"Yea-yes! Hmm! Please, Rick!"

"Yeah, bet you would love that. You're just like your grandpa, Morty. Just a filthy, depraved piece of shit. I've seen what you've done. Seen

all

of it. And I bet you would have gotten off to that—to grandpa watching you if you had known the entire time, too, wouldn't you? Oh yeah, you would. But no, you didn't notice because you were far too busy fantasizing about all that nasty and sick shit that you're getting off to."

Morty should be feeling hurt by Rick's degrading words. Well, he certainly felt humiliated by them, but they also turned him on so much more. He was turned on by the fact that his grandpa was calling him a sick piece of shit. Turned on by knowing that Rick had been watching him when he did all those naughty things. And turned on by knowing what they were going to do now – that they were going to fuck like animals on the dirty ground of this alien planet – and that it was his grandpa that he was going to do it with on top of all of that.

"Please fuck me, Grandpa Rick!" he pleaded.

"You're such a needy slut for your grandpa's cock." Rick chastised, but grinned pleased.

Making a show of unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants – honestly too slowly for both of their tastes – he whipped out his impressive length. The way that Morty was staring at it – a weird mix between shock, embarrassment and hunger – was actually very amusing.

"You can touch it, Morty, you know? It's not gonna bite."

Shyly, the boy reached out and Rick's cock twitched as that small and soft hand closed around him. Having trouble fitting his fingers all the way around the thick shaft, Morty wrapped his other hand around the pulsing flesh, too, before he began to steadily move them up and down.

"Fuck! Your hands are so small, Morty." Rick mumbled as he watched the tiny fingers move over his length almost as if he was in a trance. "Such tiny, girly, soft hands…"

Morty pouted even though it wasn't the first time that Rick made this kind of comment about his hands. However, this time the remark didn't sound as mean as it usually did. Actually, it had an almost praising tone to it, so the brunet didn't complain or stop what he was doing and instead gripped harder and stroked faster.

Rick groaned, being so worked up that it wouldn't take long for him to climax now either. Deciding that he needed to speed things up and also making good use of his grandson's delicate hands, he fumbled around in the pockets of his discarded lab coat without moving from his position.

With a sound of triumph, he held up an unlabeled tube. Morty stared at the item in slight confusion, but had already an idea what it might be.

Confirming his suspicions, Rick unscrewed the cap and squirted the contents generously on his dick and his grandson's fingers, who stopped and grimaced a little, looking at his now lube-covered hands.

"No slacking, Morty. Be a good boy and spread that lube all over your grandpa's dick." The elder ordered and grabbed one of Morty's wrists to guide his hand back to his waiting member.

Obediently, the boy continued where he left off.

Since he still had the open tube in his hand, Rick pushed its tip unceremoniously into Morty's butthole and squeezed the lube inside him. The brunet's eyes widened and he squeak as the cold gel suddenly entered him, not having expected a move like that.

"RICK!" He shouted in protest.

The elder was unfazed. "Oh, come on, Morty. You've taken so many things up your ass that you really don't have to act like a shy and fragile virgin now."

Morty had the decency to blush in shame and was unable to retort anything to that. So, he just averted his eyes.

"…s-still doesn't mean that you have to do it like that…" Came finally out in a much smaller voice.

His grandpa held back the urge to roll with his eyes at the childish behavior and instead shoved two long fingers in Morty's behind, the lubed up hole making a slightly squelching sound as he did.

Thankfully, the boy didn't bitch about that and moaned softly, taking the intrusion in stride.

Another soft growl escaped Rick as his grandson moved eagerly back into his digits and he spread them quickly to widen that snug tunnel.

Fuck! He really needed to be inside that tight heat. Right now!

Trying to hurry the process along as fast as he dared, he entered another finger, stretching the boy out more. To his satisfaction, Morty took it really well again, but after everything that he had secretly witnessed, he probably shouldn't be surprised.

Eagerly he spread out his three fingers as far as they could go to make room for a fourth.

The fit was getting tighter now with half of Rick's hand wedged inside his anus, but still no complaint from the brunet. He only murmured something that the scientist didn't quite get and bore down on the intruding digits with unrelenting eagerness.

Hungrily Rick licked over his dry lips as he eyed the boy's weeping erection.

It was really drooling like crazy and the comment "wetter than a virgin on prom night" was on the tip of his tongue.

After having stretched out his grandson's inside as best as he could, he began to wonder if he could actually fit his entire fist in there. As enticing as that idea sounded, he pushed it to the back of his mind and decided to save it for a later time. Right now, he really didn't have the patience or self-control for such experiments.

Pulling his fingers out of the enticing heat – much to Morty's dismay, who mewled longingly from the absence – Rick reposition the boy's hips so that the head of his dick was resting against the invitingly clenching and unclenching opening.

Though, he hated to ask, but he still needed to make sure that this was okay with his grandson. "Last chance to back out of this now, Morty."

"Just fuck me already, Ric—AAAAaaahh!!"

Not waiting for the teen to finish answering, Rick plunged into the velvety tunnel in a single thrust. He forced his hips to still, to let them both adjust to the sensations, but it wasn't easy.

He was so hard that it was painful! Rick couldn't even remember the last time he had been as hard as this…

Time for adjustment was something that Morty apparently didn't need because just a few seconds later, he began to buck his hips against him.

Rick tightened his hold on the boy, forcing him to still again.

"God, Morty! Calm down." He scolded. "Give me a moment here, you-you horny little bitch."

An unsatisfied groan was his answer since the brunet clearly didn't have the patience to wait any longer. Not that Rick had planned to drag this out for long. He just wanted to make sure that he wouldn't blow his load too soon.

As if to test, Rick rocked his hips after a good minute, coaxing another mewl out of his grandson.

Slowly he withdrew, already missing the heat and tightness around his cock and quickly plunged back inside again. Throwing a roll of his hips into the motion, he repeated the action, slowly building up a rhythm.

Morty meanwhile was moaning as if he had gone mad, babbling about how good it felt. The depravity of it all, almost made Rick laugh. Instead, he only rutted harder into the teen.

"Yeah, you love this, you nasty piece of shit." Rick groaned. "You just love having your grandpa's cock inside your ass, don't you, Morty?"

"Yes! YES! I love it! Your cock feels so good~"

The scientist chuckled breathily.

'So shameless, Morty…' he though fondly. '…Not even trying to deny it.'

His grandson's moans and lewd words fed Rick's ego. They also fueled his libido and he had no idea how much longer he could go on like this. The ambition to make Morty cum first was the only thing that was keeping him from going over the edge right now.

So, he sped up his pace, going harder and deeper and making his grandson practically scream.

His hips were slamming against the boy's asscheeks with enough force to leave bruises. Equally bruising were his fingers that were digging into Morty's pale skin as he pulled him into each of his thrusts.

"AAH! AH! It-it's…aah…it's so good! So…haah…so amazing…nghn…Rick! Pl-aaah-please don-nhn-n't stop! Haah!" The brunet begged.

Stopping was the last thing on Rick's mind. He kept fucking the teen brutally, eventually sparing one hand to jerk the smaller off in the same pace.

Naturally, it didn't take long for the boy to reach his climax.

"Oh god! RICK!"

Morty's back arched sharply and he came with thick, short spurts, soiling his stomach and chest. Some even reached his chin.

While he orgasmed, his insides began to spasm around his grandpa's dick, causing the elder to also finish.

"Uhn~ Fuck, Morty~" Rick groaned as he emptied his seed inside the tunnel that was still milking his cock with one last hard thrust.

It almost felt like it lasted for an eternity when in truth it was not even a full minute before it was over.

Spent and with one last tired groan, Rick pulled out of his younger lover and laid on his back next to the boy. The heavy sounds of their breathing was the only thing that could be heard.

Rick waited for the post-coital regret to set in. Not in himself – he was so fucked up that he would never regret fucking his own grandson even if he should – but as he looked over to the other, he waited for it to show up on Morty's cute, flushed face.

It didn't come. As Morty opened his eyes and slowly came out of his bliss, he didn't avoid eye contact with his grandfather nor did he looked panicked or even worried. No, he actually smiled. Smiled at Rick with such a pure and bright smile as if this had been the best decision of his entire life and it almost made Rick crumble.

It was at this moment that he truly realized that Morty was more

Rick

than he would have ever thought.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

[malarkis]

Mercy

As requested by a dear friend of my, here’s an old fic I wrote about Willhelm and a few other familiar faces from the usual militia lot. I hope you all enjoy ; u ;

The sound of gunfire and canons blasted through the canvas walls of the medical tent as the two surgeons and their assistants rushed about, aiding to the wounded and the dying.  The men ran about, cutting and stitching as fast as their hands and minds could fathom, but sadly not as fast as the injured were being carried in by the minute.  The medical tent was just as much hell as the battle that raged outside.  Blood puddled on cots and soil, filling the air with its pungent, metallic miasma.  It was more than most could bare, but Percy and Willhelm did all in their power to make it work.

Usually, the two men would’ve worked separately.  Though equals in their field, the two were far from companions outside of their professional work.  A slight rivalry bloomed between them, no doubt stemming from their opposing work methods.  Willhelm was methodical and organized, although a bit too rigid in the eyes of his more radical colleague.  Much to Willhelm’s dismay, Percy was more unorthodox in his ways.  He was a brilliant man, that much the other would admit, but far too much of a maverick in his field.  The two butted heads endlessly, and they were more than thankful when their commanding officer agreed to let them work separately - Percy for the higher ups and Willhelm for the cavalrymen.  Today, however, was an exception. The sweat dripped off of  Willhelm’s forehead as he put the final stitch on yet another wounded soldier.  “Alright, take him away. Next”, he ordered, wiping away the beads of sweat that blurred his vision. The younger of the two chuckled. He barely even glanced up from his work, yet his colleague’s frenzy was as palpable as the bloody mess that lay in his hands. “Losing steam eh, Dr.Blackwood?”, he chortled. “You know, I can always take one off your hands for you. Lighten the load, perhaps?”

Willhelm rolled his eyes at the other man’s irritatingly nonchalant demeanor. He admired him for his ability to handle situations with dire stress, but he also wished he could do so quietly.  “As much as I appreciate your assistance, Dr.Hewlett”, he sighed, wiping his hands on a bloodstained rag. “I suggest you keep your paws to yourself, if you wish to keep them.” Percy guffawed as he signaled for the officer he was working on to be sent off. “Well they did warn me you were a genius with a scalpel and saw.  The offer still stands though. All this stress can’t be easy for you, old man.” A patient each was set upon their operating tables, groaning and bleeding. This was no time for levity. Willhelm simply scowled before returning to his work. “Bloody maverick.”

—————————

Hours passed and still the influx of patients continued to travel in and out of the medical tent.  There had been a slight lull accompanying news of the British forces finally taking the offensive and advancing a few meters northbound.  Nonetheless, the surgeons’ work was far from over.

A flood of wounded officers had found their way into Percy’s skillful hands, but like any surgeon, no matter the skill, he only had two. He kept his cool, but Willhelm could see a slight panic beginning to breach the surface. “Eating your words yet?” Willhelm smirked as he watched the other man toil over two patients. “You know it’s never too late. My hands are free. I could lighten the load, perhaps?”, he asked, parroting Percy’s earlier quip.

Percy felt his cheek twitch. “Well, Dr.Blackwood”, he spoke through a strained smile, taking off his spectacles as to wipe them of sweat and blood.  “That’s very kind of you to offer. Yet a tad bit unoriginal, don’t you think?” The older man chuckled. He couldn’t help but take even a little pleasure from the other’s chagrin. It seems even the great Percival Hewlett’s pageantries and medical prowess had their limits. “Come now, Dr.Hewlett”, he chided. “There’s no need to be shy.” One of the officer’s squirmed as he went under the needle. “P-perhaps Dr.Blackwood’s right”, he whinged. “Th-think of the othe-“ “I would consider it highly unwise, Mr.Parker, to question the authority of the man who holds your life in his very hands”, Percy cut off the officer with his usual strange brand of saccharine apathy. “Or in this case, your limb. Now please, do hold still.” His strange grin made the man shiver. The canons sounded off yet again, making the ground shake and the tent walls shiver.  Percy did all he could to hone himself in, to buckle down, to drown out all the chaos, all the din.  It was easy, or at least it was most of the time. Yet again, today proved to be another exception.  With aching wrists and tired eyes, the man set down his medical scissors with a defeated sigh. Willhelm simply watched, his brow raised expectantly. “Well, Dr. Blackwood. Today’s your lucky day”, the younger of the two finally admitted. “It seems I’m feeling quite generous.” The other couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s this? Am I sensing a sliver of humanity in the great Dr.Hewlett?” “Yes, well, don’t go getting used to it”, Percy retorted. He bowed his head as he focused on his work once more. “The next officer that walks through that tent is yours, Blackwood.” True enough it took no longer than ten minutes for three new patients - two officers and a private - to be lobbed into the already crowded quarters. The higher ups were split amongst the surgeons, an Officer Richards limping over to Percy’s side of the tent, while an Officer Daniels clung to his bloodied sleeve as he trudged over to Willhelm’s end.  A fourth member to the injured party joined them as well, his bespattered kilt swaying stiffly as the blood upon it began to dry. “Jesus Christ, Paddy”, Willhelm exclaimed, recognizing the man. His dark eyes shot quickly to the bloodied apparel. “Don’t tell me-“ “I appreciate the concern, Doc”, the other man panted as he practically dragged his wounded companion. “But it is not my blood. The boy. It’s the boy.” “Yes, well place him on the bench-“ “I would but I don’t think the lad’ll make it if I tried.” The young soldier groaned, his lips quivering as he clutched onto the darkened stain that continued to spread down the front of his coat. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a sputter of blood. “Christ Almighty! Get him to the table. The table! Get him on it now!”, Willhelm roared over the panic. He turned swiftly, catching one of his assistants by the arm as they were about to run past. “Bandages. I need bandages, clean ones. More of them. Understood?” Percy watched silently as the other man scurried away. His usual chatter may have ceased, but his curiosity was far from ebbed. With a huff and a grunt, the young soldier was lifted onto the operating table, whimpering in pain at even the slightest movement brought onto his wounded form. Such a sign didn’t bode well. “Alright. Let’s have a look now.” Carefully, Willhelm began to take the soldier’s hand off of his gut and peeled away the blood-soaked jacket flap. “Easy now. Let’s just-“ “How dare you!”, the officer bellowed from behind him. “You put him before me?! I was here first!” “You both came at the same time, Officer Daniels”, Willhelm said over his shoulder, not even turning to look at the man. “Now if you would please wait your tu-“ “Don’t you dare turn your back to me! I’m an officer!” “Yes and I am very much aware of that. I am sure your regiment will fair fine without you even for a moment. From the sounds of it, they already are.” The man’s brows raised in shock. How dare he! How dare anyone speak to him in such contempt!  “If we lose this bloody battle because of you-“ “And if we this boy loses his bloody life because of you, then what, Officer Daniels?!”, Willhelm bellowed as he spun around to finally face the nuisance of a man. “Now answer me this and answer me quick because I have another man’s life in my hands! Can you walk?”

“Y-yes.” “Are you breathing?”

“Of course I’m-“ “Do you have a bullet lodged anywhere?” “N-no-“ “Well then, what seems to be the problem?”, Willhelm challenged Daniels. His snide tone was far from appreciated. “Are you blind? I fell off my damn horse and now my wrist-“ “Yes, the thing looks broken. Fractured at most. Now if you please excuse me, I have a man with a hole the size of St.James in his guts! I’m sure you can tell which is more dire, considering that it was your wrist that broke and not your brain.” Daniels couldn’t believe the gall of this doctor! Who did he think was? He sat there, seething as he watched the doctor walk away. “Y-you…m-my superiors will hear of this! This will not go unnoticed, Doctor Blackwood! Mark my words!” “Well, that’s if he has any tongue to tell them with”, Willhelm grumbled as he reached for his forceps. “Aye, steady on now, Will”, Paddy warned. “Believe me, there are several things I’d love to teach that man, he’s a right bugger, he is. Though might I suggest we keep things rather untroubled. For the boy’s sake.” A boy indeed. Willhelm couldn’t help but feel the twisting pang of guilt as he gazed down at the young man. He was young, too young to be here.  “He should be at home. Working. Studying”, the doctor thought to himself. His mind wandered for a moment to his students. Then to his son. Good god, the boy looked so much like him - the dark hair and eyes, the slope to his nose. Now, Willhelm was a professional, a man of method and rules. Hardly did he ever let anything move him in such a way. He was acquainted with death and accustomed to blood and pain, much more so than he would like to admit. But this, this broke him. “Well?”, Paddy asked, taking Willhelm out of his subconscious. “What do you reckon, Doc? What’s the damage?” The doctor looked at his friend, but gave no answer. With his forceps and scissors he cut away at the bloodied cloth, revealing a gaping void of viscera and tissue. The boy had been shot in the stomach. It was only a matter of time before the acids and bile began spreading throughout his body and causing an unbearably painful death. And who knows how long it had taken for them to get back to the medical tent. Willhelm had to make a decision and fast. “I-I…I need time”, he faltered. “I just need a little time.” “I’m afraid we don’t have much of it, Doc.”

More blood came up from the young man’s mouth, the dark liquid dripping down his chin and mingling with the viscera that already dampened his uniform. He could not speak nor scream, yet the flurry of fear and panic that shown in his eyes rang clear as the gunshots outside. His cheeks grew wet with tears and blood as his hand gripped onto the fabric of Willhelm’s sleeve. “Steady on, steady on lad”, Paddy comforted the boy, holding him still as he shook with each cough, “Will, we’ve got to do something! Now!” A thousand remedies ran through the doctor’s already frantic mind, and yet none deemed themselves helpful to the cause. The blood was already traveling up to the boy’s throat, the bile and acids of his stomach surely making it hard to breath. The pain, oh Christ ,the pain in the young man’s eyes. Willhelm grabbed a nearby bottle of laudanum and uncorked it. He poured the ruby liquid into the soldier’s mouth while his other hand supported his head. “Will…”, Paddy said, staring in horror. And yet he kept going. The bottle was down to half its content. “Will.” A third. “Willhelm!” A quarter. “Dr.Blackwood!”, Percy’s voice yelled from across the room. Willlhelm stopped, his hands shaking as he put down the tinted bottle. The boy’s grip upon his sleeve had grown limp. He was dead. The doctor’s gaze travelled about the tent, gathering the unnerved glances of those around him. “I-I….I need to…wash my hands…excuse me”, he slurred before turning the other way and walking out of the tent. “Please excuse me.” Paddy, Percy, and the officers simply stared in silent shock at what they had just seen. “He killed him…”, Daniels murmured. “He bloody killed him…” ————————— Percy leaned against the post of the nearby tent, the light emanating from behind him casting long shadows onto the cold ground. The night air had grown silent and still. Only the scent of gunpowder remained as a reminder of the recent battle and victory they had accomplished but a few hours ago. The quiet only amplified the shouting coming from the nearby officer’s tent.

He listened intently, gathering whatever he could from the muffled voices. “So”, Paddy sighed, taking his place beside Percy. The flickering lamplight only accentuated the worry upon his already weathered features. “Officer Daniels really did it eh? Bloody bastard can’t even keep his own boots clean, yet he can keep his word on this?” An exhale drifted from the doctor’s lips and turned to vapor. “Apparently.” The two stood still, the muffled screaming being the only other sound than the groaning of the wounded. “Did he really do it though?”, Paddy asked, his eyes fixated on the glowing tent. “Did he truly kill the boy?” “In a sense, yes. But not to the extent of which most would think.” “Aye, but do they know that?”, the Scotsman said, gesturing to the tent. Pushing himself from the beam, Percy chuckled cooly. “They will. Soon enough.” ————————— “An outrage! This is an absolute outrage!”, Commanding Officer Wesley Péche yelled from behind his desk. “Out of all the people in this company that I expected this sort of buggery from, it definitely wasn’t from you, Dr.Blackwood!” Willhelm stood silently at the front of the desk. He was usually not one to back down from a heated debate, but tonight he could barely even look at the man before him. Instead, his gaze remained fixated on a small scratch engraved onto the dark wood. “I appreciate your trust, Sir-“ “Yes, well it doesn’t seem much like it! You’ve made a mockery of it! And absolute mockery! I hand picked you myself, do you know that?! The college had recommended me your superior, Dr. Langley, but I specifically chose you. Do you want to know why, Dr.Blackwood?” “If I could please explain-“ “Because they told me of your skill, your competence, and most importantly your compliance to the oath you took when you became a surgeon!”, Wesley continued, his hazel eyes glowing with rage in the lamplight. “I thought you proficient in understanding the importance of obedience to the rules. Perhaps I was mistaken.” Though older by a great many years, Willhelm couldn’t help but feel as if he were a young child being scolded by its parent. He clenched his fists tightly, opening and closing them as he took a deep breath. “Sir, with all due respect-“ “No! No!”, the other cried, throwing his hands up in the air. “I don’t want to hear it! Daniels told me quite enough! Not only did you waste an entire bottle of laudanum, a provision that we are in low supply of, but you ignored an officer his right to medical care. And let us not forget the biggest error of all, you-“ “Good evening, Officer Péche”, Percy interrupted as he lifted the flap of the tent. “Forgive the intrusion, but we are needing Dr.Blackwood back in the medical tent. Some of the patients are getting a little fussy.” Wesley scowled. He was already upset enough at one surgeon, he did not need the irksome company of the more confounding of the two at the moment. “Yes, well I am not done with him, Dr.Hewlett. As you can see, I am having a discussion-“ “Ahh! Well then perhaps I could be of assistance?”, Percy offered, fully stepping into Wesley's quarters. The officer blinked. “I don’t see how-“ “Well considering the misdeeds and accusations that are being speculated around the camp concerning our dear Dr.Blackwood, I thought I may shed some light on the situation. I did witness the entire ordeal, after all.” Willhelm held his breath. What on earth was his colleague up to? “W-well…I…I guess, that’s alright…”, Wesley considered, turning his gaze away from the other doctor. Percy always had a habit of making him feel uncomfortable whenever he was in his presence. He would have readily shooed him out of his quarters, but what other choice did he have? The only other witnesses to the incident were Paddy and Officer Richards, the two being unreliable due to their close relations to Blackwood and their injured state, respectively. As much as Percy was far from winning any favors in Wesley’s book, something hardly ever earned by anyone according to the men, the doctor  had always seemed rather neutral to most situations. Eerily so. Neither was he close to Blackwood in any sort of the sense. “Fine. Fine. I’ll allow it.” “Perfect. Do carry on, Officer Péche”, Percy said with his usual saccharine nonchalance as he lowered himself down onto a nearby chair. Willhelm stared in horror at the other doctor. Christ, this was it. He was doomed. “As I was saying”, Wesley continued, clearing his throat. “Firstly, you ignored an officer, when according to him and other witnesses, you had promised to ‘lighten Dr.Hewlett’s load’.” “Sir, I-“ “Secondly, you not only used an entire bottle of laudanum, but wasted it-“ “Correction”, Percy said from across the desk. “Not all of it. The bottle still had over a quarter left.” Wesley glowered, his lips drawing to a thin line before he resumed his monologue. “But wasted it entirely on one man. One man! A bottle can serve almost three men if I am not mistaken. Am I Dr.Blackwood?”

“No. No, sir.” “And worst of all, you readily poured the contents of said bottle down the throat of your own patient! Choking him from the reports of the others!” A shot of guilt tore through Willhelm’s gut. “I…Sir, I didn’t intend to kill the boy-“ “Well you most certainly did, according to those present!” “I only meant mercy-“ “Mercy?! By forcing a bottle down his throat!?” “He was in great pain, Sir! There was no other way!” “If I may? Gentlemen?”, Percy interrupted yet again as he stood form his seat and took his place in front of the desk. “I would like to give my own account of this afternoon’s situation.” Wesley hesitated for a moment, feeling a strange prickle as he sat under the fair-haired doctor’s expectant gaze. “If you must…” “Thank you”, he replied with a smile. “Now, I must say that the first two accusations are sadly true. Dr.Blackwood did ignore Officer Daniels’ request, and procured a bottle of laudanum from the already dwindling supply.” “Exactly. Therefore-“ “But he did not do so without reason.” Percy squared his shoulders and calmly placed his hands behind his back, as if he was ready to lecture in front of a class. It irked Wesley to no end. Willhelm shot the other doctor a nervous glance. “Dr.Hewlett, I don’t think-“ “Hush now, I believe Officer Péche has give me the podium, so to speak”, he replied with an ensured grin. “You see, in the medical world, rank does not outweigh the dire need of medical attention. A title and commission, though magnificent in their own right, does not outrank a giant gash across someone’s chest, for example. Though the two patients did arrive at the same time, Officer Daniels’ injury was far more inferior to that of the young private.” “Well I think that’s rathe-“ “Don’t tell me, Officer Péche, that if you were to walk into the tent with, let us say, a fractured shin, yet have your good friend - what’s his name? Harold?” The officer’s ears reddened. “Harold lay bleeding to death on another cot, you would use your rank to get ahead?” Wesley froze, his face looking like a strange cross between a scowl and a grimace. He was never one who enjoyed being scrutinized, much more so when it was he who was supposed to be doing the probing. “Alright. Alright, fine! But that still doesn’t account for what happened to the private. I should have you tried for murder, Dr.Blackwood.” Willhelm felt his blood run cold. “Murder?!”, he exclaimed. “Sir, you cannot be serious!” “All the witnesses said Dr.Blackwood gave the boy a high dosage of laudanum-“ “As a means of mercy, no doubt”, Percy explained. “May I ask you, Officer Péche, if you know the Hippocratic Oath?”

“I-it’s an oath recited by doctors and surgeons as a means of pledging allegiance to their cause and calling. I’m not that stupi-“ “Yes, but do you know the words?”

The officer simply huffed as he leaned back into his chair. “No…no, I don’t.” Obviously delighted by this, Percy prattled on. “Well, then I should enlighten you!” “Please don-“ “It’s quite long, but I shall get to the stanzas that ring quite profound. At least for this situation they do.” Willhelm swallowed hard. He was already in the thick of things earlier on, and now he was just completely lost as to where Dr.Hewlett planned on taking this whole spiel. He simply braced for the worst. “How about you, Dr.Blackwood?”, the other doctor inquired as he turned to his colleague. “Do you remember the third and fourth stanzas of the oath? I’m sure you recall.” “Err, yes”, Willhelm complied, shaking himself out of his stupor. “I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures that are required. I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemist's drug.” An awkward silence emanated throughout the tent as the older doctor finished his recitation. Wesley simply stared in confusion. “I don’t see how-“

“I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures that are required. Warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon’s knife or the chemist’s drug”, Percy parroted. “In other words, Officer Péche, Dr.Blackwood did nothing else but his job.” Willhelm turned to the man beside him, his eyes wide behind their spectacles. “The boy was dying, and in a lot of excruciating pain from the looks of it. I may not have been by his side, but even I could see that nothing could be done for him. The laudanum allowed him even a moments peace in his time of agony. He would have died sooner or later, quite slowly and painfully if I may add. All Dr.Blackwood did was ensure his comfort as he left this world.”

The older doctor couldn’t help but stare in shock at the man before him, his mouth slightly agape. Had his ears deceived him? Had Percy truly defended him?  He quickly pressed his lips together and returned his attention to the officer. Wesley sat with his elbows propped on the desk, his nine fingers knit together as he pondered over Dr.Hewlett’s words. After a few moments, his eyes peered up at the two men before him as he reached a decision. “I will readily admit that I know not of the medical world nor its rules and regulations, but I do know of my own rules. The rules of the military. I am afraid there are some things that cannot go without consequence. I am sure you understand, Dr.Blackwood.” A sinking feeling ran deep through Willhelm as he accepted his fate. “Yes. I do, sir.” “Which is why you will be given a warning…” The doctor raised his gaze. “Sir…” “I am a reasonable man. You will receive a warning for misconduct towards an officer, and the amount equivalent to the bottle of laudanum used shall be taken from your pay.” Willhelm blinked.  “A-and what of the boy?” “Gather his belongings and give them to his best mate. Tell them to give them to his family. That is all. Goodnight, gentlemen.” A wave of shock and disbelief surged through the older doctor. Or perhaps it was the sudden depletion of his adrenaline. “Well now that that’s finished, I believe it is time to take our leave”, Percy announced as he lead his colleague out of the tent, but not before turning to the commanding officer once more. “Thank you for time, Officer Péche. Perhaps I may repay you with a check up. I do believe you are due one in the upcoming days. How is your finger, by the way?” Wesley froze and simply occupied himself with a map that lay in front of him. “I..err..p-please just go. There are things I must attend to now. I said goodnight, gentlemen.”

A wicked smile played upon the younger doctor’s lips as they exited the tent and into the cool night air. The slight layer of frost upon the soil crunched beneath their boots as the two men made their way back to the medical area.

“I know I said we needed you back at your station, but I highly suggest you get some rest, Dr.Blackwood”, Percy chuckled. “You had quite the day.”

Willhelm, still fazed by what had just happened, stopped in his tracks and stared incredulously at his colleague. “I…I don’t understand”, he muttered, his warm breath making small puffs of vapor in the night air. “I know we are not the closest of comrades, far from it in fact. And yet…you defended me. I was clearly in the wrong, and yet you insisted..” Percy halted as well. “That may be so”, he said, turning to Willhelm with his signature grin. “But I’m not heartless.”

The older of two stood silently, his legs refusing to work. Or perhaps it was the heavy burden upon his shoulders that soldered him into his place in the frosty ground. “Dr.Hewlett”, he called out. “I…you must understand. I have blood on my hands. A boy’s blood rests upon my hands, and this time I fear a rag and some hot water won’t do…” “Don’t we all?”, the other chuckled. “We are surgeons after all.” “But would you have done the same? W-would you have…put him out of his misery?”

“No”, the other said a-matter-of-factly. “Which is why I applaud you. There is little in this world that I wouldn’t do. I guess you’ve bested me in that, Dr.Blackwood. Congratulations.”

Willhelm tried to fathom something to say, but nothing surfaced except another puff of vapor. “I would say I owe you my gratitude”, he finally admitted. “Though I do not think that is enough, Dr.Hewlett. Lord knows what I would have in store for me had you not stepped in. I…thank you.”

“Like I told you, I was feeling quite generous today”, the other replied. “As you were, in your own right.” A bitter chuckle leapt from Willhelm’s mouth. “Generous? In what? Laudanum? Death?” Percy smiled once more before turning on his heel and lifting the flap of the medical tent. “Mercy, Dr.Blackwood. Mercy.” —————————

[nihanovacaine]

The Horn Of Recompense (Chapter One)

Frostblade Peak was frigid as the winds howled atop the hill that Nimuehdra brought the group over. The Ebon Chevalier, Kirilovos Dreadflame, the Shal’dorei Rogue, Valteia Sin’dal and the Snowy-haired Magistrix had already been here earlier, “Watch the skies, Dreadflame” she warned him as the black-winged Wyrm circled the Vrykul settlement below. The Magistrix had found that the particular group she gazed down toward had found a particular artifact that was of immense value to the Division and maybe even the Scions would take interest in it.

Among other things, they found that they had guards safe-guarding a tent that may have a treasure. A hoard if you will, waiting to be plundered. She would need assistance to scan the area for signs of activity and the particular artifact in question. A hand would raise to her face and adjust her mask she wore to cover her face from the unforgiving temperature of the damn place. 

The Ebon stood back and frowned at Nimuehdra. "I do not care for you being so close to the edge, my Lady."  Valteia knelt down next to Lady Emberfury, hoping to learn more about the outside world that the Div had given her opportunities to explore.

Duskrune, the newest recruit to the Scions was called upon on comms as additional Scouting help was required.

"You should be happy my Rylak's eyes are good. I would have never been able--" The Orcish Warlock stopped herself abruptly.

The Shal’dorei Shadowblade watched in stealth as the Orc approached Lady Emberfury. Not being acquainted with the woman, Valteia watched her carefully, her gloved fingers drumming against the hilts of her blades.

The Blood Mage began as the Duskrune approached. “What do you know about the Vrukul, Miss Nur’kuhzal?”

The Senile Warlock cupped a hand over her ear, leaning in carefully so she could hear Nimuehdra better. "Eh? I haven't been to high school in....ever. I went to school, but not high school." Duskrune knelt beside the Masked Magistrix. To which, the Head of Operations would gesture with her head at first and then shook her head. She pointed a gloved digit at the Settlement below. "Them."

"Oh. VRYKUL! Well..."  Exclaimed Nur’kuhzal.

Kirilovos stood back and blinked at the old Orc, shaking his head. He seemed tense, as if ready to run for the edge to catch anyone who might go off of it. After all at this point, three of the four involved were dangerously close the cliff’s edge.

Nimuehdra, growling weary of the Orc’s antics, urged,  "Please tell me what you know about them."

The Warlock replied, "They like the cold, and have made very temperature resistant weapons. Artificers like to incorporate their written language to try to replicate them, but it's not the same as their actual weapons. I bet they've made special alloys and the like to work better with them."

The Magistrix nodded,  "That much is obvious. What about their runic magic?" Nimuehdra was in no mood for pleasantries or anything as such. She was desperately searching for something. The Blood Mage recently lost one of her party, Vakorian Duskrune, earlier and when had witnessed his rise as an Ebon Knight.

Nimuehdra turned her masked head toward her most trusted,  "Kiril, Valtaeia?"

The withering Shal’dorei averted her gaze from the Orc, her periwinkle hues falling upon Lady Emberfury. "Yes?" she asked calmly, a muffled voice emitting behind her mask, dispelling her stealth. Learning that she was new to this territory, the Mage then raised her hand dismissively. “Nevermind.” She said so in an empathetic tone.

Kirilovos shrugged slightly. "Their Runic magic is not unlike that which the Ebon Blade makes use of. I am unsure whether we learned it from the Vrykul, they from us, or a mixture of the two. It can be used to bind to objects to make them stronger, or they can use

different ones to create magical effects." He frowned slightly. "To be honest, I have not seen the full extent of what the Vrykul are capable of with their runic magic and we of the Blade are relatively limited in our uses."

 "I'm guessing that's what helps make them stronger as well--as far as 'strength' of the metal goes. You know, with generations of these guys runnin' around, and such a writing system in place, they've got to have some sort of texts that teach their young'in's how to write and spellcraft as they do." added the senile Warlock.

Valteia averted her gaze from Lady Emberfury to the Orc, listening to her words. "Such preparations would be expected," she said calmly, agreeing with the woman's guess.

"Primitive though they may seem, they are Titanic in origins as a race. They may even have old texts from their creators which taught them their magics." further said Kiril as an addendum.

The Rogue glanced over to Kirilovos and nodded in agreement.

Nur’kuhzal mused, "They've had to teach their young'in's and share their stories somehow. There's gotta be some books sittin' around."

The Blood Mage jerked back slightly to look at Kiril. "You bring forth a wise observation. They may seem primitive and boorish but they have access to power that is still so unknown to us. To dismiss that would we foolish. I am inclined to find more about the Ymirjar and the Kvaldir. And their obsession with the afterlife. I need to know...how they raise them but without the power the former Shieldmaiden, Helya possesses." She then glanced between the three faces of her companions hoping to see if anyone of her current party had something to say about her interest.

The raven-haired Rogue listened carefully to Lady Emberfury's words, nodding from time-to-time as she did. "Perhaps I can pilfer through the village below and see what I can find among the households. I would assume such important documentation would be held within a place of worship, or in the home of a powerful Vrykul.”

The Magistrix shook her head. "Halt Valteia.” She would raise her gloved hand to face a palm toward the stealthy Shal’dorei. “I think you should stay here. Should you be detected we won't be able to pursue the maniac who abducted your people." She said, warning her that they still had to rescue the Magistrix’s best friend, Lady Astrande.

Duskrune gave a wheezed chuckle; eventually, it ended with an array of hacking coughs. "Ah, yeah... recruiting people to try to find more power in the afterlife." She spoke with reminiscence. "Good times, good times."

Nimuehdra looked toward the senile Orc "Perhaps Duskrune has a way  pry without any -body- to be actually present there...."

The Rogue then gave a nod, dropping her hands from her hilts and to her sides. "Understandable, Lady Emberfury."

Duskrune pointed to her left eye, which actually wasn't there. "Where do ya' think my other peeper went?" She pat her chest, where there was a lump in the pocket. "T'aint my boob any more. They deflated ages ago!"

Nimuehdra wrinkled her brow, looking at the senile Orc. "Whatever does that mean?"

Kirilovos blinked at the old woman and shook his head slightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement but otherwise holding back from a smile. "I am sure that our new Warlock companion can indeed learn much without needing to be present." He looked to

Nimuehdra curiously. "As to the power to raise the dead, advanced Necromancy is a skill which could be learned by any being with enough power and will."

Duskrune pulled the glowing green orb from the pocket. It was just about the size of her actual eye and radiated that sickly Fel magic.

Nimuehdra ‘s eyes lit up as she did so.: "Ah, there's a useful trinket. Show us what you find, Miss Duskrune. The practice of Necromancy is not unfamiliar to me. While our friend here can do more than I could. I am a Blood Mage after all."

The Shal’dorei furrowed her brows as she watched the Orc, a feeling of confusion washing over her. She glances between Lady Emberfury and Kiril, hoping they'd explain the strange gestures.

Duskrune looked confused. "Where exactly are you wanting to go? Or... proverbially going."

Nimuehdra pointed at the Shal’dorei and explained, "That would be a fel-orb, an eye of Kilrogg as it is known among Warlocks."

Duskrune's arms crossed tightly. "Yeh? I learned the old fashioned way. You warlocks these days get off easy. No eye removal or nothin'!"  As Nur'kuhzal ranted, the eye rolled down the mountain and to the place that was picked out. At least she had remembered her job this time.

The snowy-haired Magistrix stood up and bent a little to knock the snow off her knee caps. She would cast a cloaking spell over the group and then point over yonder, "We'll hover over there on our mounts. Duskrune, Do your thing."

Duskrune meanwhile, kept talking. And talking, and talking. Oh, the poor trio.

Nimuehdra swiftly ordered them, "Mount up and follow me!"

Kirilovos made sure that even cloaked his Wyrm was between Nimuehdra and the closest possible line of fire.

The company would float right above the settlement. They were cloaked so only a shimmer of their bodies would be seen should direct sunlight strike them Luckily, here in the Fjord, that was a rare occurrence. The Magistrix checked the skies above them to confirm this and then spoke quietly to the company. "As long as no sun touches us, we're nearly impossible to detect. But should any of you use spells, the enchantment will falter. Be careful."

Nimuehdra prodded, "Miss Duskrune, we await your report."

Valteia nodded in response to Lady Emberfury's words. She peered at the settlement below, gripping the reins of her saber's harness tightly.

Duskrune began,  "Eh. There's a lotta books, and people sparring." "Easy to slip by people that are distracted by fighting. Though, eh? Wait a minute." She said in between grunts and grumbles."Yeah. I've got something. They made it easy to read for us foreigners. Some books are drawn on a map, with foil stamping and artwork." 

The Pale-haired Magistrix wrinkled her nose. "A map? What are they up to now?"  She looked at Kiril and then to Val. "I wonder if it's worth investigating...I think we must press on. Tell me what else you find."

Valteia shrugged. "You express a great interest in the possibility of acquiring certain documents that are held in high esteem among their people. That choice is yours to make."

Duskrune struggled. "Well, a lot of the symbols are pointing to some sort of... thing...guarding the texts. Since we're high up, I think we could follow the landmarks. It's definitely some sort of cave."

Nimuehdra pushed her for information. "Landmarks to a cave huh? But What is it? Can you tell us more?"

The Warlock prompty replied  "Something big and strong. Looks similar to the Vrykul, but...not? Another species of Vrykul? Something venerated, judging by the gilding of the page. That's the only other thing that has the golden tint on the page. I think it's guarding the texts."

Kirilovos tilted his head slightly. "Anything venerated by the Vrykul and larger than them is likely Titanic in origin. If our interest really is the pursuit of the source of the Vrykul's power, that may be the place to check." He frowns. "Though this could also be a holdover from after they made a pact with the Lich King. Many of his servants were placed above the Vrykul in esteem."

The Shal’dorei glanced over at Kiril, listening to his words carefully. "Then the question that must be asked is this: Is the risk worth it?" she said as she turned her gaze to Lady Emberfury.

"Titanic...or maybe even Ancient...Elven." She would look toward Val. "Valteia, are you aware of any ancient texts that were written by your people?" She deduced.

"A creature...that is not exactly Vrukul...could you be more descriptive perhaps, Duskrune?"

Valteia pursed her lips and thought for a moment. "I am of a younger generation of Shal'dorei, having been born only a few millenia ago. However, my parents witnessed the Sundering. Ancient texts -do- reside in our small home. They probably haven't been opened since the barrier was erected."

"Either it's guarding the texts, or it's texts that are needed to summon something. It's big, stony, and has a long beard... long hair?" Duskrune looked even more confused.

Nimuehdra sighed, defeated. The Magistrix bit her lower lip under her mask. She was lost for ideas. As soon as Duskrune spoke however....her eyes would widen. "That....sounds." She would swerve a bit on her mount. " A Jotun..."

The Red-haired Ebon moved his head in either direction, as if weighing the information. He looks back and up to Nimuehdra again. "Stone and bearded sounds like at minimum one of the Giants, if not a Keeper."

Nimuehdra let out a heavy breath,  "If it's what I fear, then the map or texts depicts a Jotun that is guarding something...something important."

The poor Warlock looked absolutely lost "Jotun? That some sort of breakfast cereal? Or disease?" Duskrune then grumbled, "There was something else, that looked like one of my toenail clippings after I don't clip for a year."

Valteia darted her eyes between Lady Emberfury and the Orc, listening to the conversation at hand. She was not familiar with the term 'Jotun' and was curious to hear the creature explained.

Kirilovos snorted at the Orcish woman. "The Jotun are the Giants which reside, primarily, in the mountains in the farthest Northern reaches of these lands." He blinks at her further words. "How...descriptive," said he,“I think it may also be the name of a particular Watcher, but I may have that mixed up.”

Duskruned struggled to explain,  "It's curled and pointed like a claw. Isn't that a good description of long toenails?"

Nimuehdra sighed. "A Jotun...Jotnar people are a type of entity contrasted with gods and other figures, such as dwarfs and elves... But to see them active in this day and age." She bit her lip once more. The Magistrix was caught off guard, "Toenail clippings?" She wrinkled her forehead, "Do you mean, you see a horn?” She tried to understand the senile Warlock.

The Rogue glanced at Kiril as he spoke. She listened carefully to his explanation of Jotun. After he concluded, she gave a nod, making a mental note. At hearing the Orc's mention of toenail clippings, Valteia grimaced slightly, though the expression was hidden by her mask.

Duskrune’s weary eyes brightened. "Hey. That sounds like a better analogy. What was your name again, Blood-Blondie?"

"Nimuehdra Emberfury. Blood Mage and Envoy to the Scions." The snowy-haired woman corrected.

"There's a little bit of gold at the blowy end. And some more text, but it looks a bit more squiggly and less blocky like the Vrykul. ...Not the same sort of swirly as I'm used to, though. Ugh. Nom-nom-hydra? Can I call you 'Hydra' instead?" Nur’kuhzal Duskrune narrowed her eyes and scrathced her head on her Rylak as she said so.  "Elven. It's not what we used in the Council, that's for sure." she then added.

Nimuehdra’s Ebon Chevalier, stared at the Orcish woman for a moment and his eyes glaze over as he fights it, but he simply cannot contain a laugh. It was clear and surprisingly pure from him, shaking his whole body for a moment. As he looks up at Nimuehdra he manages to growl out,"Hydra... That will be your codename in secure documents and transmissions from now on." The Magistrix would look daggers at Kiriloves as he entertained the Orc. She would grit her teeth and bear it for now.  No one was going to call her HYDRA of all things.

At Lady Emberfury's mention to go ahead and get it themselves, Valteia chirps up. "The Orc woman in our company mentioned the sparring taking place below. Perhaps that could keep the Vrykul distracted long enough for me to retrieve the document?"

"That's what I was thinking," said Nur’kuhzal.

Valteia said, “I will bathe myself in shadow and sneak along the various monuments and statues that litter the ground below”

The Magistrix raised a hand to pink her brow. Exasperated she breathed "Be careful and quiet in your approach, Valtaeia. Miss Duskrune, please just call me Lady Nimueh."

Duskrune scratched her chin, "Pendulum? It all sounds like mumbo jumbo to me."

The Red-haired Ebon looked over at the woman then up to Nimueh. "If you like, I could cause an even larger distraction. Once they've all come to their gates they won't bother looking for a small creature lurking in the shadows, it is not in their nature to fear such."

Valteia gave a nod and looked up at the sky above her, ensuring that the sun had not begun to peek through the clouds above. "I will act accordingly, Lady Emberfury." she said calmly.

She glanced over at Kiril as he indirectly mentions her. "But what of you? Wouldn't that be an unnecessary risk for you? I am confident in my abilities to venture in and out as quickly as possible."

Kirilovos shrugged at the Nightborne and gestures. "I suppose it is some minor risk to me, but nothing significant. Come, I can show you to the sparring area and I will distract just them. Once you are in and out just send up a signal."

Valteia gave a simple nod. "Aye," she says softly. She tugs on the reins of her saber, maneuvering the large cat to follow Kiril to the sparring area.

Upon hearing, the Ebon saluted to the Head of Operations respectfully.

"It's Lady Nimueh--nevermind." The Mage gave up and ended abruptly.

Kirilovos raised his hand in a fist to stop Valteia, eyes narrowing. The Vrykul were shouting quite loudly, enough so that he could speak at a normal volume and not fear being overheard by them. "Hold here. See if you can understand what they are saying, no reason not to try and gain some intelligence before we start causing a scene."

Duskrune's Rylak, luckily, had seen the spellwing as a friend and not a foe. It followed behind rather closely--and much more fluidly--than the jerky movements from before. Duskrune obviously couldn't see when her attention was on the flying Eye, that was for sure. "They're talking about...something. It's a low and gutteral speech; not a lot of words. I'm thinking all of his brains went to his muscles."

Lady Nimuehdra Emberfury nodded. "Good plan...perhaps if we move a bit closer...we need to be -very- discreet though. These Vrykul tame dragons."

Valteia tugged on the reins of her saber's harness tightly, coming to an abrupt stop at Kiril's command. She turned her right ear towards the sound of Vrykul, trying to understand what they were saying. "I believe I hear them saying praises to Odin," she says softly, furrowing her ebony brows.

Kirilovos murmured very quietly to Nimueh. "To be clear, my Lady, if we draw their attention you are to open a portal and run through it at the earliest possible moment." He blinks at Valteia and sets to listening as well.

Duskrune spoke quietly "I'm not the best lip reader. I should probably start learning."

Valteia nodded in response to Kiril's concern. "He is right." she began in a hushed voice. "Things could easily go awry here, though I will do my best to ensure such does not occur."

As the company approached, they would be cloaked in shadow still. Silently, then would come upon them and overhear their speech. Nimueh being fluent in most vrykul dialects would extend her linguist spell for the group to understand. The Shal'dorei was not too far from understanding what they talked about but her deduction would be still far from it. They would learn that the two Vrykul were named Ingvar and Torsten. Ingvar was a tall

brute with a club in his hand, he would be quite boorish in his mannerisms and had a toothpick in his mouth that would appear to be made of bone. Torsten, on the other hand, was a lanky fellow in comparison but was just as tall and blonde.

The Blonde giant would begin. "By Odin's missing eye, should the hunt for the horn be successful, we may get become rich, Ingvar..." To which Ingvar would grunt and whack Torsten on the back of the head. He would then laugh. "I'm

going to get myself that woman, Olga. Want her to birth -my- children with those round hips...and that bo---" Torsten would whack him back in the mouth before he could finish. He would straighten his blonde braids as he did so.

"Her father's nearby. Shut it!" This would make the larger man agitated and whack the other to the ground with his club. "Yourrre lucky this isn't my axe, boy." Torsten then pulled the larger man's long red beard to him. "You're all talk, Ingvar. Besides, I think we both know the money will get us all the women we want." The younger, blonde man was the more intelligent of the two. "The horn is capable of granting wishes should you do one task of the Jotun's bidding....you're the stronger one." She insisted. Torsten was trying to get the larger man to get his wish granted by forcing him into the trial the Jotun may present him with.

As Nimuehdra neared them, a twig would creak under her feet. This would cause both of them to look in their direction. "Oh...Dath'Remar's arse....they saw us." whispered the Mage.

"Valtaeia, Kiril. Make quick work of them while we stand by."

Nur’kuhzal Duskrune made sure to call back the Eye, popping it within the empty socket. Duskrune would need to be able to see again if they were possibly going to engage in combat. The Orcish Warlock's fist mashed into the other hand's open palm, grinding it back and forth. Nur'kuhzal may have been old, but she still could pack a whollop.

The Shal’dorei acted hastily and cloaked herself in shadow, going completely stealth. She rushed behind Ingvar, thinking his talk of courting a woman and having her bear his children would keep him in a...distracted state of mind. She used the opportunity to sap the brute.

Kirilovos looked back to Valteia with a raised brow, a small grin forming on his face. "You take the ski-" He cut off as she sprang into action, earning her a chuckle before he looked to Torsten. He decided silence was the most important factor, so he clenched his

fist and watched as the Vrykul was raised off his feet with a thin strand of dark energy around his throat. He looked over to Nimuehdra. "Any use for them alive? I can only hold this so long, but I wouldn't mind extracting some information from him if you think it helps."

Duskrune 's arms crossed with a snerk of sorts, admiring the two's teamwork.

Nimuehdra nodded. "Sap them and make them Divulge more on the horn.." She pointed a digit at the senile Orc. "You're a Warlock aren't you? Time to shine, Miss Duskrune."

Valteia peered behind from the toppled over, sapped Vrykul, gazing at Kiril. She gave a slight smirk from beneath her mask, the only evidence of this seen in the crescent shape her periwinkle eyes had taken. At hearing Lady Emberfury's order, she gave a nod, acknowledging it.

The Blood Mage smirked. "Good job you two. Come let's ask our friends here what is the story behind this...horn."

Kirilovos approached his captive Vrykul with a confident stride, pulling out his hooked blade and swining it around for a moment, showing off its cruel edge. As he got closer he placed it around his captives' throat, cutting a tiny line of red into its neck. "If he tries to move, he will lose his head. I am sure he will be receptive to questions."

Valteia pushed Ingvar down to the ground, easily being able to do so due to his incapacitated state. She pressed her foot into his chest and peered down at him. Her hues narrowed as she stared at him intently.

Duskrune pointed to herself, with a 'wuh? Me?' look on her face. The elder waddled up to the skinny one, lifting her walking stick. An array of hollow metal thumps reverberate through the air, as the woman cracked the skinny one's skull a few times. If the two weren't knocked out before, they were now. Glancing back to Nimuehdra. Oh, right. Not -that- kind of questioning. With a grunt, Duskrune squat before the skinny one, spitting on her palms before rubbing them together and placing them upon the man's skull. A knocked out target was easy to divulge into the memories of, but it'd be much harder if they woke. Duskrune whispered in a chanting-like speech; reliving the one's most powerful memories on the topics that had most interested her; namely about the horn and the mysteries of the Jotun. "They made this pretty public," Duskrune spoke a bit more loudly, though her voice was distant and not all there; her attention elsewhere.

"The whole village was in on this, it looks like. Som sort of competition to endure some sort of suffering, live through it and gain the this... Horn thing. Horn of Re...compiling? ...Compensense! That. Well, not an item. But some sort of blessing of knowing that the Jotun had, in order to find it." The woman's lips and face wrinkled even more. "There's a map with more squiggly stuff nearby, too. Maybe one of you elven ladies can read it."

Valteia watched as the Orc spat on her hands and placed them on the Vrykul's head. She furrowed her ebony brows slightly, not sure of the need for saliva. At the mention of "Elven" ladies, Valteia perched her brows. She kept her foot pressed firmly into the

Vrykul's chest as she nodded at the woman. "I could give it a try unless the Lady would like to do the honors."

The Chevalier watched the warlock work with great amusement. "That is impressive work, he did not even awaken while you went about your business." He looks between Nimueh and Valteia. "Nimuehdra appears to be versed in many foreign languages. Even if it is the result of spellwork she may be better prepared for trying to read such a map."

The Leader of the three agents wrinkled her nose as she watched the Orc work. She would shake her head at her methods but wasn't one to complain if they worked. The Magistrix shrugged and tucked a lock of white behind her ear. "Recompense....? The Horn of Recompense?" She would bring a gloved hand to her mask and tap where her lips would be behind her mask. "A competition to retrieve a lost Horn?" She would look to the Shal'dorei agent and nod. "Valtaeia take a look. " The Mage would escort the Rogue to where the text lay now unguarded. As their backs faced the other two with the vrykul.

A cold smile, dark and almost menacing would appear on the snowy-haired Mage's features as she turned her head to look over her shoulder.

 "Oh...and dispose of them."

The Shal’dorei followed Lady Emberfury, her footfalls light upon the ground. She smirked beneath her mask at Lady Emberfury's command, but other than that paid it little mind. As a seasoned assassin, the idea of killing did not phase her. She peered at the unguarded text before her. She narrowed her gaze as her periwinkle hues scanned over each word.

She stumbled a bit with translating the text as it was of ancient Elvish that was beyond her understanding. However, she was able to piece together a broken sentence

through the help of words on the text that were shared with Shalassian. She took the next in her gloved hands and spoke broadly. "This text tells of a particular Jotun who was once under the control of Helya. However, he was rescued by Odin and freed

from his damnation. It says here that he will grant one wish to anyone who successfully pursues the Horn."

The Ebon applied the slightest amount of pressure with his blade, cutting almost to the windpipe on his Vrykul. The flesh around the wound quickly blackens and the necrosis spreads, the Vrykul twitching and its mouth moving as if trying and failing to scream.

Kiril closed his eyes in a moment of ecstasy and then huffed with disappointment as Torsten collapses to the ground, his flesh rotted across his body. Kiril's runeblade glowed for a brief moment before he sheathed it on his back, eyes quickly growing dispassionate again after having seemed quite alive and excited.

The Magistrix was pleased with the day’s findings so she would usher the party to step through a portal she discreetly weaved behind them before the rest of the settlement was made aware of their presence. The Map was brought back to the Dalaran Div Headquarters where it lay. 

The agents and the Blood Mage thought it best to involve the leaders of the Clandestine to further help to look for the Horn of Recompense. 

@scions-of-antiquity  @the-clandestines @lledwynlomeriel @roewyn @iamauroracole @thebuildingcacophony

[dvbermingham]

Chapter 5: Toro

This time, we were led down a different set of stairs, no aquarium set in the walls. It was as though the hall and stairs had been swapped out. Though I didn’t feel submerged, I still felt a slight concern that I somehow stumbled into the Eschquarium itself.

We reached a door at the bottom of the stairwell leading to Senju’s office. It was stiflingly hot, like the inside of a microwavable pizza snack. Senju offered Matsuzaka a seat across from his desk.  On Senju’s lap rested a sea turtle, which he stroked lovingly, caressing it’s flippers, tapping its shell to inspect its integrity.

Behind Senju were two men, both seated, both calm as soup. One wrote in a little hand-held journal. I took a position at the back against the wall. Senju’s men didn’t seem to notice anything in the room had changed from before we entered.

“We haven’t had a chance to chat, Mr. Matsuzaka. I’m very happy you’ve chosen to accept the position. I like to refer to it as daiymo, an older term, perhaps, but still relevant. As you well know, the world of sushi, is ultimately a feudal one. Strict hierarchies, fealty to the lords who reign up on high. Those who exist in the restaurant industry tend to thrive in such relationships.” Senju eyed his new subordinate, stroking his turtle all the while. “A fascinating creature, is it not? Don’t worry, it won’t drown. It can live up to seven hours outside the water. Can you live both inside and outside of water, Mr. Matsuzaka?”

“No sir, unfortunately not.”

“If I were to throw you in the ocean and ask you to hold your breath, would you do it?”

“Yes sir.”

“How long would it take you to drown?”

“About one minute sir. Maybe two.”

“That’s what I thought. It takes an amphibious creature to run a sushi empire. You cannot be able to swim with the fish, then come back to land without forgetting how to breathe the air. You must live underwater and above water.”

“Yes sir.”

“For instance, if your eyes were as astute as mine, if your gills were at all part of your body, if you were an amphibian, you might go for a swim out from the shores of Battery park, swim for a mile or so along in the southeastern direction and see through the muck and the spillage and the dead things and the poo and notice about two dozen bodies suspended from the floor of the harbor, their feet tied to large stones or cement.  You would still have the stamina to inspect closely, see any scars around their necks, any stab wounds in the abdomens, all the tiny mutilations I’m so fond of. And most of all, you would not be afraid, because amphibians don’t have fear. Why don’t amphibians have fear?”

“Um, because, sir, they are animals.”

“Animals can’t fear?”

“No?”

“Are we not animals?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Matsuzaka…I do not like contradictions. Which is it?”

“Which is what?” squeaked Matsuzaka.

“Amphibians don’t have fear because they’re fucking ancient! Ancient things don’t think we way we do. They only care about two things: eating and fucking. What a life!

“Ah.”

“Look at George. Look at his face. Look how calm he is, even in this strange place”

The turtle flailed.

“Don’t you feel a kinship with him? I’m certain we are related. Far far back, in the days of the mudskipper. When we were amphibious! Can you imagine? Maybe someday people will revert back to their amphibian brains. Then we would truly get something accomplished here, eh!?” “I look forward to serving you, sir.”

“Enough bullshit. I am here to talk about Ersatz. The fat fuck de facto leader of the Partition. Have you ever spoken with him?

“No sir.”

“Have you ever met him?”

“No sir.”

“Are you sure?”

“Almost, sir.”

“Ersatz is the most dangerous man in New York City. He is responsible for countless terrorist attacks on our restaurants, and quite likely even his own, of course only through his blaming the attacks on the guild  does he drum up resentment against the Guild. He is often seen dining at the restaurants the night before they’re destroyed. A hideous display of arrogance, if you ask me…nothing more than a fetish. Though he’s quite fat, he squeezes into spaces like a thin man. Rarely does the chef recognize him. That’s how he could so ostentatiously flay Takuto.”

“So…you need him killed?”

“Ha! Please,” Senju rose from his seat, taking his turtle with him, stroking atop the head. “I’ve been trying that for years. Besides, that’s a little advanced for a man so new to the position. I’m just explaining that this man is your enemy. That he is out to destroy that which you have sworn to protect. No, your job is to maintain our network of chefs and their Neo-feudal fealty to the Guild and hence the Imperial Sushi Council. Your job is to provide them with the most highly regarded tuna money and power can buy. You!” Senju had suddenly directed his eyes towards me. “Where is your tuna?”

“Right over there, sir.”

“Don’t leave it there. Pick it up!”

“Sorry sir.”

“What’s your name?”

“Lou Mastiff sir.”

“Lou Mastiff. Strong name for a strong fellow. You come from a long line of strong men?”

“I don’t recall sir.”

“Well was your father strong?”

“Yes sir.”

“Were your uncles strong?”

“Yes sir.”

“Was your grandfather strong?”

“He got polio in his twenties, but before that I think he was.”

Senju grimaced. “Polio, eh?”

“I think so sir.”

“Good. Now guard that tuna. And don’t let it drip on you. It’s making a mess.” Senju went to the corner and placed the turtle in a clear plastic box that extended out from the wall. He closed the door and pressed a button, and the turtle was vacuum-sucked into the depths of the building, back to its makeshift habitat.

“I don’t mean to redirect the conversation without your consent, Boss Senju, but if you would allow me to speak freely, I would like to express some concerns.”

The boss sighed, and returned to his desk. “You may.”

“I am a chef. I work well with others who have been in the restaurant business, who have worked in kitchens, who understand what is expected of them. I have experience with violence, as any chef, but I am unfamiliar with politics. I don’t know much about the guild, other than what Takuto had taught me, but he didn’t have much time to teach."

“What is your point?

“My point is I’m worried I’m being set up to fail.”

“Set up to fail? As in…I want you to fail? That it is my intention for you to fail?”

“I just mean, perhaps you are desperate for someone to fill the vacancy, and I am your last resort. And as such, I’m destined to fail.”

“You’re destined for something…” he murmured. Then, after taking some time to think, he spoke:

“Do you know why I hire Sushi chefs as my regional bosses?”

Matsuzaka shook his head.

“Because to be a great sushi chef, you must appreciate the details, however small, of every individual action. You must see, more precisely than anyone else, the ways in which our actions weave a tapestry of experience that extend beyond the immediate. The faintest expression of citrus, the finest brushstroke of shoyu, the complement of temperatures between rice and fish — a sushi chef aspires to create food as perfection. The wild tuna alive at sea is a being of supreme lineage, a creature out of time and space, at once consuming and consumed by the primordial ocean, found now on display for your customer, form from the formless. And let us not ignore the symbolism of the rice, the chais-lounge for the ocean divine, resting in seductive curvature before it’s final journey. Then, as surely as the cycle of birth and death, the sushi is devoured, gone, the height of experience suddenly and forever in the past. The sushi chef knows his work is never complete. What he creates is swiftly destroyed, and so on and so on. He will never reach the end because man’s hunger is never sated. The hunger returns again and again, day after day, and the chef abides. The chef is the conduit between desire and offerings, between the ocean and the land. The chef is the Amphibious.

“I fully understand, Boss Senju.”

“There is simultaneous simplicity and complexity in everything we do, depending on how you chose to perceive it, how well your eye is trained to pick up on the details. A murderous villain is every bit as complicated or as simple as a perfectly executed nigiri.”

“Clarity is could not be greater.”

“We are all asked to do things we haven’t done before, or we have no interest in doing.  We do these things because of this little thing called destiny. Your decisions up until this point in you life, like it or not, have landed you in my office at this very moment, precisely at the time when I need someone like you to set their mind to a task and execute. You do believe in destiny, don’t you Mr. Matsuzaka?”

“Once in a while.”

“Good enough.”

“Well, in that case, if perhaps I could get a small overview of what the situation is, so I can do a better job of figuring out the best way to handle it?”

“What, like an oral history of this guild and the Imperial Sushi Council and all the rest?”

“I guess that would be helpful. Sure.”

“Well, I don’t know if I have time for that. There are quite a few turtles swimming around inside the walls of this place that need my attention. They find areas that aren’t especially clean and often difficult to escape. I do however have some historians and biographers on the payroll. I’m sure they can help you out. Steve!”

One of Senju’s men jolted awake. ”Yes boss.”

“Get Mr. Matsuzaka something to read about our Guild, would you? An overview of some kind? Anything?”