#actually one time he had to kill a witch. unpleasant experience

[1punch]

fantasy au sai would be the greatest monster hunter ever

[thiswasinevitableid]

54. I’m not sure what you think I said, but you start calling me an asshole and whip a ruler at me and somehow, we both end up in detention

Indruck, sfw, please?

Here you go! Content note: spiders appear at one point.

I based some of this AU--namely the concept of the Crucible and how magic is channeled--on the Carry On series by Rainbow Rowell. And Duck is trans in this, because any good wizarding school is inclusive.

After three years at Amnesty Academy, Duck is used to the objects being magically propelled through the air. But a ruler zipping through the air and smacking the back of his head is a new, unpleasant experience.

He tracks it to two chairs to his left, the new third year with the silver hair. He hasn’t even been here a day, what the fuck the is his problem?

“Hey, what the hell man?”

“You know very well what.”

“Uh, no I don’t, and I don’t appreciate bein hit with a fuckin ruler!”

“The maybe think before you insult someone next time!”

“I didn’t fuckin insult you! I don’t even know your name!”

“Ahem.” Ned, their Charms professor, looks down at them reproachfully, “gentlemen, while I know the review of Zone of Truth is rather dull, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t entertain yourselves with mindless conflict.”

“Sorry, Ned.” Duck mumbles, sending his pencil shooting below desk level to whack the other guy in the leg at the exact same moment he whips his pen at Duck’s hand.

“OW!”

Ned sighs, “I hate to do this, but-”

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

“Detention! Lovely, my first day here and I’m in trouble. Thank you so much, Duck Newton, for landing us here.”

“You started it!” He growls as they take their seats. God, he hopes this isn’t one of Woodbridge’s days.

“Huh, only two.” Mama wipes her boots on the mat, closes the door behind her, “Afternoon, Duck. And…”

“Indrid.” Says his nemesis, “It is nice to meet you Professor C-” he cocks his head, “you really prefer I call you ‘Mama?’”

“Yep. Never could get behind that more formal stuff. Let some of the first years call me ‘Ms. Mama’ if they really need to feel like they’re showin some deference.”

Mama is deputy Headmistress of Amnesty. The only reason she’s not fully in charge is that she’s not a witch and some families object to that. So The Quell technically runs the school while Mama does most of the actual day to day work. She also teaches a course of non-magic practical skills because, “some things you can’t magic your way out of. Like taxes.”

Duck loves her class and, while he doesn’t understand why someone would opt into this weirdness, he admires the guts it takes as a fifteen year old human to walk into a wizarding school and declare that there was plenty you could learn there even though you couldn’t so much as send a spark from your fingers.

As he and Indrid watch the clock tick down, Mama pulls a bag from her satchel. The contents are cookies, which she offers to each of them.

“Barclay tryin’ out new recipes?”

“Course he is. Kid is gonna be the best damn kitchen witch in the country by the time he graduates. Guess he’s plannin to spend the summer drivin around and learnin the food magic of different regions.” She smiles, “bet you’ll never guess who’s goin’ with him.”

“Joe?”

“Bingo. Apparently he wants to study niche cultural magic.”

Duck’s pretty sure there’s another motive; sharing a van bed with Barclay. It sounds fun, roving the country, discovering new places with someone handsome by your side.

All that’s by his side is a glower hiding behind red glasses.

“Mama? I, ah, would it be possible for me to leave five minutes early? I’m supposed to get my pairing from the Crucible tonight.”

The older woman looks between the two of them, “Better tell me how you landed here first. Ned just said it was an argument.”

“He threw a ruler at me outta nowhere.”

“It was not, you know what you said.”

“The last thing I said before you hit me was ‘“nah, man’ when Billy offered me a pizza roll from his lunch.”

Indrid goes still, “Oh. I, ah, I misheard you. I thought you said 'mothman.' I apologize. I ought to have given you the benefit of the doubt.”

He seems so suddenly downtrodden that Duck shrugs, “Yeah, you should have. But it ain’t the worst thing that’s happened to me here. Not by a long shot.”

“No kiddin” Mama leans back on the desk, “Two of you can go at five til.”

His evening turns uneventful after that; dinner, hanging out with Juno and Aubrey, half doing homework and half fucking around on his phone in his room (the agreement between the school and the government is that a long as the students don’t post vidoes of themselves doing sick stunts with magic, the government will ignore any explosions and/monsters in the vicinity of the school).

He’s never had a roommate; when the Crucible spat out his name in fire on his first day, there was no other name with it. Almost everyone else rooms in pairs or trios. So his belongings are strewn about the tiny cabin that makes up his home away from home. Which is why, when the door creaks open at ten p.m, he sits up and prepares to fire off a spell.

Indrid stands in the doorway, one bag over his shoulder and another in his hand. He looks tired.

“Hello, Duck. Ah, I guess that one is my bed, then.”

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

The class schedules for Amnesty are generated by the heart of the school itself. Indrid isn’t entirely sure what that means, but the heart must not be terribly creative. It stuck him in divination class. He’s been seeing the future since he was five, managing it with his drawings since he was eight. Even the professor has no idea what to do with him, since the images come in like a garbled T.V signal when he uses a crystal ball and the cup shattered when he tried to read tea leaves.

At least Barclay gave him a conciliatory caramel while they swept up the shards. It made him feel a bit better, though whether that’s due to enchantment or Barclay being exceedingly good at cooking is hard to say.

And now he has to go to “Magical Weaponry.” Magical Defense he understands; there are still lots of malicious forces out there, or even just everyday evils that it’s good to be able to ward against. Plus, Vincent is a good professor, enthusiastic and understanding.

Professor Minerva is just as enthusiastic but twice as loud. This is their first day in the actual gym, as opposed to at a blackboard, and his visions suggest it’s going to go poorly for him. As it should; he’s not a fighter, he’s a disaster.

At Amnesty, magic is channeled through objects. Most people use wands or their hands but some, like Aubrey, use jewelry (a necklace from her mother) or another accessory.

Duck Newton uses a sword. Or he’s trying to. The sword seems to be winning.

“Exert your will on him, Duck Newton, he answers to you!”

“I answeeer to only the capable.”

“Shut up, Beacon.” Duck adjusts his grasp, but nothing happens until he drops the sword and sends a spell through his fingers. The target explodes. Indrid suddenly feels a bit better about his own probable performance.

Duck notices him, indicates the practice area next to him is clear. While they started off poorly, his roommate is doing his best to demonstrate southern hospitality. He invites Indrid to eat with him, helps him when his visions offer no help in navigating the grounds, and even lent him a blue and green shirt (Amnesty's colors) for his first Spirit Day. Duck is the best thing to happen to him in his first month here.

By the time class is over, they have six broken targets, a shredded mat, and a knife that is now a very confused frog between them. They manage to laugh about it, even as Duck scoops up the amphibian and tucks him into his shirt pocket.

It’s then that Indrid realizes he has a crush.

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

“You comin to the game tonight?” Juno measures her sapling.

“Assumin nothin comes up and nobody’s tryin to kill me, you know I’ll be there.” He loves cheering Juno on during her soccer games (hey, not everything has to be magic based, even at a wizarding school).

“Drat.”

The hissed frustration draws his attention to the far end of the work table. Indrid is trying to coax his Venus Flytraps to perk up, but they remain brown and limp.

“Need some help?”

“Please, as you clearly know what you’re doing.” Indrid tilts his head towards the sapling pine tree Duck is working on. If he does his growing spells right, he’ll be able to take it home as a Christmas Tree during winter break.

“You tend to picture words or, uh,pictures when you do your spells?”

“Images work best. The trouble is that the futures sometimes make it difficult for me to picture a spell clearly.”

“What if I try describing how I’d see it and you picture what I say?”

“It’s worth a try.” Indrid closes his eyes.

“Okay. Think about the roots drawin water up from the soil, about the traps absorbin nutrients from prey. That brown is goin green as they do, they’re stems are growin stronger…” he grins as the plant turns bright green, it’s mouths open, “hey, ‘Drid, look”

“Oh!” Indrid flaps his hands, “it worked! Now I can keep them healthy and big andohno, nono not again.”

The table cracks and collapses as the plant turns gigantic, blocking out the light from the greenhouse roof.

“Holy fuck, that’s great!”

“Language, sport, but I agree.” Thacker, the head of the magical Horticulture classes, whistles as he looks the plant up and down, “this is mighty impressive Indrid. Wonder if we could use it on some pumpkins come fall…”

“I don’t recommend it, unless you want them to chase people.” Indrid points to one of the heads, which is swaying in the air and lowering closer to him. It snaps and he leaps back, falling to a pile of potting soil. Thacker raises his walking stick and the flytrap returns to its proper size.

Duck helps Indrid up, but his friend stays quiet through the end of class and on the walk back to their room.

“You know it ain’t anythin to be ashamed of, right?” Duck flips on the light, “we all fuck up spells now and then. Hell, Aubrey is on track to be the best spellcaster this school’s ever seen and she still has trouble.”

“But mine go haywire constantly” Indrid flops, dejected, onto his bed, “forget mastering my powers, I’ll be lucky if I graduate able to keep them in check. If I graduate at all.” His hand searches the bed blindly; Duck sets the weighted, plush bat into so Indrid can set it on his chest.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never lasted more than a year at a magical school. Or a non-magical one. I started at Mt Vernon when I was fifteen. Tried Deep Hollow and Shasta the year after that. I’m powerful but I can’t seem to channel it well, and three different schools decided I was more trouble than I was worth.”

“Bullshit.” Duck rests a hand on Indrid’s knee, “you’re strugglin with somethin; that means you need more help, not less. And if anyone gets it into their heads to kick you outta Amnesty, I’ll raise a goddamn ruckus.”

Indrid chuckles, quiet and disbelieving.

“I’m serious. You know Aubrey and them would side with me, and Joe knows school policy well enough he could probably find a reason why them tryin to get rid of you was against the rule.”

“Thank you.” Indrid’s smile is a rare flower, fragile and stunning.

“You want one of those calm-down caramels Barclay made?”

“Please.”

Duck grabs the box from the cabinet of their little kitchenette, then snags a Coke and a pineapple soda from the fridge. Indrid is no longer horizontal, is instead sitting with his back to the wall so Duck has space to join him.

Under the fizz of fresh bubbles, his friend murmurs, ‘“Have people really tried to kill you?”

“Yep. Someone sent an assassin after me my first year, and there was a Dire wolf on the grounds last winter that was clearly locked on to my scent. Perk of bein a Chosen One.” He grumbles as he swigs his drink.

“...Who on earth sends an assassin after a fifteen year old?”

“Right?! Fuck if I know, they never got any information out of the guy. Fuckin prophecy I swear, I didn’t even want these powers, let alone to be some kind of hero.”

“I sympathize.” Indrid rests his head on Duck’s shoulder, “there are prophecies around my birth as well.”

Duck clunks their bottles together, “To bein’ fucked over by stuff we can’t control.”

Indrid drains his soda, then perks up, “Oh! Oh dear, you should go if you want to be there for Juno’s match.”

“Come with me?” Duck can’t get the image of the two of them sharing a giant pretzel while smushed thigh to thigh on the bleachers out of his head.

His friend grins, “Of course.”

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

Duck hoped, after his not-great time in middle school, that a magic academy would be asshole free. But no, there are assholes everywhere, and these ones have even more tools for tormenting their targets. He’s never been one, nor have any of his friends. The one time someone tried to bully Barclay, Dani sicked three spectral hummingbirds on them until they apologized.

Indrid, odd and new, is an easy target, though he seems to hold his own just fine (and his proximity to the most powerful witch in school does scare off many potential antagonists). But three guys in their Magical Defense class have zeroed in on him.

They’re standing in line to practice against an evil eye when Indrid’s glasses, the ones he doesn’t take off even when he sleeps, hit the floor by Duck’s feet. Duck scrambles to grab them before they get stepped on, wondering why everyone is making such a fuss. Then he turns and backs up in alarm.

An eight foot tall moth creature is where Indrid should be, red eyes wide and claws clicking together anxious.

“Who let that thing in here?” Someone yells from behind him.

Indrid’s antenna flatten.

“Fuck, wasn’t expecting him to be that big a freak” one of the bullies scoffs.

Black wings twitch.

“Newton, give him the glasses back so we don’t have to look at him!”

Indrid trills, upset, and leaps into the air at the same moment Aubrey yells, “that’s enough” and Vincent shouts a reminder about no flames in enclosed spaces and also detention for you three. Duck is to busy climbing out the window Indrid flew through to pick up the details.

One two-story fall later, he’s chasing a dark shape into the Monongahela forest. While the parts of the woods near his hometown of Kepler are non-enchanted, this chunk is magic down to the moss (he plans to write his final year project on how those halves of forest mesh on an ecological level). One of the worst aspects of the enchanted portions is their tendency to re-shape around travelers. His usual way around this is to have an unwavering sense of where he’s going and pretend the woods are giving him an unchanging path to get there. But that trick does fuck-all when he doesn’t know his destination.

After two hours of searching he’s no closer to finding Indrid, it’s getting dark, and he’s debating heading back to the school for help. He hasn’t been this deep in the woods since he fled the Dire Wolf, and he knows the deeper you go into the trees, the wilder the magic becomes. Bad news for him, even worse for his friend who's out there somewhere, upset and alone.

Eight gigantic eyes glitter at him from the dirt, and he quickly rearranges who has it worse right now.

Throwing a burst of light into the trapdoor spiders eyes buys him enough time to bolt to a tree and climb. As soon as it crawls free of its burrow he freezes; if he’s remembering right, they use vibrations to locate prey.

Fuck, that thing is the size of a VW Beatle. Why is that even a thing? No spider needs to be this big!

In spite of his stillness, it spies him and sets its forelimbs on the tree-trunk. There’s nothing else for it; he draws Beacon, pictures the spider shrinking, and casts his spell.

A soft crunch of leaves signals it hitting the ground, now an unremarkable size for an arachnid. Just as he steps down a branch, a second trap door opens and an enraged spider bursts out, looking for it’s friend. When it can’t find it, it turns and snaps its mandibles at Duck. This time, Beacon does nothing, no matter how Duck commands and curses as his eight-legged doom gets closer.

A crackle of electricity and then this spider disappears as well. On the other side of the trunk, red eyes regard him with worry, “are you hurt?”

“Nah, all in one piece thanks to you.” He holds out his hand, “you wanna head back?”

“Yes, please.” Indrid flaps to the ground, Duck following him on foot and then turning them towards campus, “you did not need to come look for me.”

“Course I did, not gonna let my friend get swallowed up by the forest. Oh, here” he holds out the red glasses, “you want these back?”

“Not just yet. That is, if this form is not too alarming to you.”

Duck takes in the glossy feathers, the charming ruff, the way the face is still obviously Indrid yet excitingly new, “I’m good.”

Light flickers from black claws, stars and flowers spinning out with ease, “It’s so much easier when I’m like this. I never foresaw my disguise charm being an issue, but the older I’ve gotten the more it seems to influence my ability to control my spells. But, well, you saw how people reacted. Even you were startled.”

“In my defense, I thought you’d been eaten by, well, you.” Duck casts the same spell, vines of light chasing the red flowers, “I’m still sorry, though. You ain’t horrible like this, ‘Drid; you’re fuckin stunnin. Never seen anyone as incredible as you.”

Indrid stops, looking down at him, “Do you truly mean that?”

Duck rises on his toes, pecking his cheek, “Yeah, I do.”

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

The Halloween Formal is the most elaborate event at Amnesty. Indrid feels that if there’s any day he’s within his rights to be in his true form, it’s when everyone else is dressed as monsters.

He doesn’t have a date. He thought Duck was in the same predicament. Then his friend left before he was half-done grooming his feathers, saying he needed to get flowers for his hot date.

Ah well. At least Indrid will get to see him there and spend some time with his friends.

He checks his reflection in the gleaming black walls, orange and purple lights glowing and jack’o lanterns floating above his head. He adjusts his robes, the nice red ones his father sent him, and prepares to enter the ballroom.

“Hold up.”

When he turns, Duck is standing there in his black dress shirt and green tie, looking for all the world like he’s alone.

“You got one more thing to put on” He holds out a bracelet of flowers, sized to slip perfectly over Indrid’s hand. There are matching flowers pinned to one side of Duck’s hair.

“Oh. Oh my. You really-”

Duck uses a small spell to bend Indrid into a kiss; it’s a bit messy, since their mouths aren’t meant to fit together, but Indrid would not trade it for all the magic in the world.

“Yeah, ‘Drid, I really do.” With that, Duck offers his elbow and they walk arm in arm into the great hall.

[wandsandwheezes]

Wild Child | F.W

Wild Child x Harry Potter AU // 3k words // this is all thanks to @starlightweasley​ for making it happen and giving me the inspiration + plot to do it!!

this whole fic is dedicated to her because she deserves it sfm!!!

taglist ;  @weasleysflowr​ @wand3ringr0s3​ @gcdric​ @theweasleysredhair​ @hufflepuffgirly @whiz-bangs78​ @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @cappsikle​ @minty-malfoy​ @vivianweasley​ @vogueweasley​ @feetoffthetablee​ @thisismynerdyself​ @witch-and-a-half @sarcasticallywitty15​ @pandaxnienke​

Two months ago the worst day of your life happened. Two months ago your father dragged you, kicking and screaming, to a portkey- ready to ship you off to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. “Y/N, this is the last straw! I have had it up to here with your pranks.” you screamed back at him, pulling your hand from his grip, “You ship me off to England for what? To replace me like you replaced mom? Real jerk move dad.” The second you laid eyes on the overbearing castle you already knew you hated it. 

You were now laid back against your uncomfortable bed, rolling your eyes, “FYI this place sucks, I can’t even breathe properly with how stuffy these uniforms are and don’t even get me started on the lack of fun and opportunities for pranks. It’s H-E-double L here.” Hermione, pulls a chair up next to your poster bed, resting against one of the posts. “You could at least try and have fun, you know. It’s not all that bad when you forget about the lack of sun and abundant rain.” Ginny looks up from her book, swinging her legs so they’re dangled off the windowsill, “If you’re so desperate to leave, you’ll just have to get yourself expelled - simple pranks and mischief isn’t enough to do it, think bigger.” you sigh pushing yourself to sit up, wrapping your arms around your legs and resting your head on your knees.” 

A debate ensued as the evening grew, Hermione taking herself away from the conversation and to the common room to avoid any chance of getting roped into expulsion with your antics. “If we’re going big with pranks, there’s nobody better to go to than Fred and George.” Parvati suggests, “Even better you could try snogging one of them, It would send Umbridge mad.” Padma adds, Ginny retches at the idea, turning up her nose with disgust but laughing a little “The thought of anyone snogging any one of my brothers is ghastly, but It’s not a bad Idea, from what I’ve heard they’re not looking to stick around with the pink devil here.” You smile softly, looking up at Ginny as she continues, “Let’s get you your ticket home for Christmas!”

Sure you had played quidditch back home but you were only ever a reserve, so when ginny flew down to you, yelling that you had to take her place, not only was your heart beating out of your chest, but you suddenly questioned any and all experience you had on a quidditch pitch. Maybe you didn’t know how to play, maybe your Ilvermorny friends were lying when they said you had talent. Before you knew it, you were whizzing around the pitch, quaffle in hand, ready to score. Gryffindor were ahead 40 points by the time Harry had caught the golden snitch, meaning that not only had you helped in scoring goals, but you were on the winning team! 

“Not bad, Y/L/N, I didn’t know they taught good sports across the pond,” you scoff with a laugh, walking next to the tall, red haired boy as he pushes his sweat soaked hair back and you couldn’t help but think of how attractive he was, he looked down at you, stopping you from waking, wiping a stray bit of mud from your cheek with the pad of his thumb, licking his other finger to move back in to wipe the rest away, causing you to push him away with a laugh, “I don’t want your spit anywhere near me, Weasley” he smiles, “hmm, are you sure about that?” he grabs your wrist, locking eyes for a moment - you swear you could feel the tension surrounding the both of you, so thick that it could be cut with a knife, only being broken away by the sound of a high pitched scream, causing you both to spin to look in the direction of the noise. “I take it Draco found my nice little gift, I always knew he was a proud slytherin.” Fred’s eyes widen, a smirk cracking across his lips. “You didn’t.” you nodded, starting to make your way to the Gryffindor changing rooms, “Oh, I did, just a little harmless charmed shampoo,” you shrug, he follows after you, shaking his head with a small laugh “You’re trouble, you are.”

Seeing Draco walk into the great Hall for dinner that evening was a sight to see, his bright green hair and eyebrows were unmissable, it was truly a look that turned heads, You, Ginny and the rest of the team were filling your boots on the feast before the victory party continued in Gryffindor Tower. “God, if Umbridge doesn’t punish you for that on her lap dog's plea, you’re crazy, Y/N” There were laughs between mouthfuls and cheers, “She’s only learning from the best, isn’t that right?” you shake your head, taking a sip of juice “Freddie, you of all people should know I was trouble before I’d even met you.”

If there was one thing you’d learned, the English love to party and when they party, they party hard. Bottles of firewhisky were cracked open, music blaring from god knows where, there was laughter, shouting, dancing, games and kissing or, as they call it, snogging everywhere you looked. You were high off the win alone, feeling happy for one of the first times in your few months here, you had supportive friends and most of all you had a piece of your home. Your mum was a brilliant Chaser in her time, or so your father had told you. You had lost your mum in the aftermath of the first wizarding war, a death eater seeking her out all the way across the pond and killing her in front of your father. You were only three and although you don’t remember much of her, you do remember the songs she used to sing and just how magical she made your young childhood, much to the dismay of your father. You felt your chest tighten and tears prick the back of your eyes, causing you to run from the wild party.

Fred caught you fleeing the party, even the small glimpse of your sad face breaking his heart a little, never had he seen a girl as beautiful as you cry. He felt compelled to follow you and over some consolation, he was drawn to you like you were tethered by a piece of string, following your every step till he found you crouched in a corner on the floor, staring out across the black lake. He joined you on the cold stone floor, sitting across from you. “It’s not like the wild child to not be out there as the life and soul of the party,” Fred jokes, punching your arm lightly, causing you to look up at him with a puffy eyed scowl, “okay, no jokes then.” he sighs, pulling you into his side, rubbing his hand up and down your arm comfortingly. You open up to him about losing your mother and how you feel absolutely alienated by your dad, listening intently, not daring to interrupt. “I’ll make you a deal,” he speaks up after a long sigh from you, “No more head-fry behaviour, though, I sense it may be your forte” you smile a little, the corner of your mouth turning up into a smile, “I won’t fry your head if you don’t poach my heart.” he smiles tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “an eggcellent deal.” 

As you’re walking through the halls on your way to divination, a pep in your step from a good night’s sleep and a new focus, finally you’re starting to actually feel as if Hogwarts was the place to be and you feel yourself growing happier and happier with every day you spend here. You’re distracted from your thoughts when you feel yourself being pulled hurriedly into a side corridor by your hand, Fred was staring down at you, his hand pressed against the wall by your head as he traps you between the stone and his own body, “How would you feel about a going to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?” he asks quietly, “Why all the secrecy Freddie? Don’t want to be caught fraternising with the enemy?” he laughs pressing a kiss to your cheek, “No, I just don’t want Umbridge finding out I’ve broken her six inch rule, but if you’re happy to risk it we can  head to divination hand in hand now.” he grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together, you giggle shaking your head, “We had a deal, no head frying.” he looks behind his shoulder before giving you some space, allowing you to continue your walk, “You didn’t answer me about the weekend.” you spin on your heel to look at him, continuing to walk backwards, “I think it would be eggciting, Freddie.” you spin back around to follow on with your journey, leaving the tall boy blushing and laughing to himself. 

Freddie Weasley was a dime away from being a whole gentleman, he picked you up from the great hall and walked with you side by side to the small wizarding town, “I didn’t put you as a girl who enjoyed walking.” he joked, nudging you with his shoulder, you roll your eyes, “Well, I didn’t expect a flying car or anything,” he smiles, scratching the back of his neck, “well actually, my dad used to own one of those,” your jaw dropped, gasping a little, “As if!” He pushes open the door to the three broomsticks, sitting you down at a table as he shrugs off his jacket, hanging it over the chair, leaving to head over to the bar, he returns with a tray carrying two drinks and a plate. “Here you go, trouble.” he puts the drink in front of you, with you now being able to spot the contents of the plate, “Bread and fries, that's my treat?” he laughs, placing a few of the chips inside the slice of buttered bread, handing you the foreign looking sandwich “If I affect your life in no other way, then allow me this honour, the humble chip butty and a butterbeer ” You gingerly take the food into your hands, looking at it cautiously before directing your attention to the drink, scanning it for a few moments, “Here we go.” you take a small bite, the softness of the bread clashed with the hot chips which had melted the butter ever so slightly, it wasn’t unpleasant but it was definitely weird, “Kind of gross, but I like it.” you pop down the sandwich, taking a sip of the butterbeer. 

After a few moments of talking, you found yourself staring into Fred’s eyes deeper and for longer, as if it no longer mattered what the two of you were saying, as long as you were with each other. “There’s something about you, Y/N,” he says, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear “Every moment I’m with you I catch my breath.” your hand presses gently against his chest, balling up the material of his t-shirt in your hand to pull him in closer. Before you knew it, your lips had connected in a soft, gentle kiss and you felt yourself melting into his touch. You were slowly coming to realise that the thing that could aid your leaving may actually be enticing you to stay. The kiss didn’t last long but it left your head spinning. 

You had made your way towards the black lake, sitting on the verge just by the water, a blanket wrapped over both your shoulders, sat talking and watching the sunset as it changed and faded the colours in the sky. You were enamoured by him. Why did you have to fall so hard for him? “I need to tell you something.” he confessed, you lift your head from where it was resting on his shoulder, “What is it?” you shift a little so that you can look into his eyes but he averts your gaze. “George and I, we’re leaving here, to set up a shop down In London, I feel guilty for not telling you sooner but I didn’t think I’d fall for you as hard as I have.” He takes a deep breath, you’re stunned for words. “I’m sorry.” he breathes out finally. You grab his face, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “Don’t ever be sorry for following your dreams, Freddie.” 

In the week or so after your date with Fred, you noticed you hadn’t seen him as much and you wondered If there had been something you’d done wrong. Surely not, he must’ve just been busy planning the perfect exit, so you left him to it, until a whole two weeks had passed. You spotted him turning down a side hall, unmistakable tall, lanky, ginger - it must be him. You hurried down the corridor, yelling after the boy, “Freddie, wait!” hearing your voice made him walk a little faster, your shorter legs struggling to make a gain on him, you stop and shout once more, “Why do you keep avoiding me?” he stops bolt in his tracks, giving you an opportunity to catch up on him. “I’m surprised you want anything to do with such a plain English boy, collecting me like a trophy to brag to your Ilvermorny friends about how easy I was, or was that just another one of your cruel pranks to finally get yourself expelled?” you look up at him, brow furrowed In confusion. “Where did you get that from, Fred? I care about you, I really do.” he rolls his eyes, pushing past you, muttering under his breath, yet still audible enough for you to hear “bullshit.” You run back after him, “Freddie, you’re right, I was trying to get myself expelled, and I knew that being associated with you would do it with how much Umbridge despises you and Gorge, you have to believe that it was a horrible to do that to you at the start but- i've fallen for you.” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “It’s too late, Umbridge is already looking for you, Looks like you’ll get your wish after all.” A tear rolls down your cheek, “Freddie, I-” he cuts you off by pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I’m sorry, trouble.”

The full flood gates open, as you make your way back to Gryffindor tower, tears streaming down your cheeks but your sobs are silent. How had you managed to lose the best thing to happen to you and get yourself expelled? You admire every inch of the castle grounds as you walk, fearing it’s the last time you may see it, when a picture catches your eye, locked in a cabinet full of trophies, medals and awards, you see a reflection of yourself staring back, “mom?” you whisper, pulling out your wand to unlock it with an ‘alohomora’, you grab the picture off the shelf, locking the cabinet again. McGonagall finds you wandering aimlessly, guiding you to Dumbledore’s office, “I have a feeling you will want to speak to him before your Father arrives,” she explains “Don’t worry, he’s expecting you.”

“Ah, Miss Y/N, I see you have found your way into my office,” He speaks quickly, as you come into his view, “I remember when your mother stood not too far from where you are stood before me now; a bright young student, a star quidditch player and not to mention a true hero against all odds. I take you found the photo of her in the cabinet, as you are clutching it so tightly.” you were at a loss for words, “You knew my mom?” you questioned, “Very well indeed, She was one of the best in her year, when word arrived of her death I sent all the help I could give to your father, I told him you would always find a home here at Hogwarts.” you sighed, wiping the tears from your cheeks, “Then why am I being expelled?” you query, Dumbledore pauses for a moment, “You will learn a great many things here in your time, and already I see a change, you have gained knowledge, strength, integrity, good-will and determination. You have proven that you have the capacity to do well here and as I said Hogwarts will always be your home.” you smile, “Then I can stay, can I, Professor?” The old man chuckles “You have a quidditch game to get ready for, go out there and make your mother proud.” he smiles at you, you smile back at him gratefully. “Thank you, Professor.” 

You run out, standing next to Fred, breathless from changing so quickly, “I thought you were getting expelled,” he joked, “As did I, I thought you hated me.” he sighed, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze, “Never. It’s good to have you back, trouble, even though you backed out of our deal.” you laughed, “What deal, Freddie?” you lace your fingers together, “that you won’t fry my head.” you bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Yeah, but you poached my heart.” He smiles, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “Good luck out there, trouble.” your heart flutters, “Good luck to you too, Freddie.” 

[joaquinwhorres]

Corinne has a close call with danger and Gideon becomes overly overprotective which confuses/angers Corinne, provoking an unexpected confession from Gideon about how he feels towards her. He sort of blurts it out.

Honestly I think you have like a window into my drafts or something, because even though this drabble took like 50 years to come out, your request is actually something I'd already been toying with as a potential part of the story. Also this may not be what you meant when you said "danger" buuuuuuuut here we are.

Corinne stepped out of the cramped and musty shop, tucking her purchases into her bag before proceeding down the dark and winding street. Despite the fact that she had spent a good portion of her childhood walking this alley, hand clasped in her mother's, she never felt fully at ease here. Perhaps it was the fact that her mother had always urged her to Marche plus vite! along these uneven and jagged cobblestones or her more acute awareness of the kind of things and people involved in business transactions here. Either way, there was a distinct briskness to her step, a purpose that propelled her back towards Diagon Alley.

"Corinne Berenger?"

While the tinge of fake surprise lacing his words might have been believable coming from someone else, instead the way he said her name felt almost like a taunt, a tease...a dare. As if he was certain she'd just continue on her way instead of turning around to face another person she'd been happy to leave behind at Hogwarts.

Corinne turned around slowly, an obviously insincere smile already pulling the corners of her mouth taut. "Mulciber."

He was smirking back at her, walking towards her shoulder to shoulder with a man who looked closer in age to Bellatrix than either of them.

"What are you doing in Knockturn Alley?" Mulciber asked, a sharp dark eyebrow raised at her.

"What you should be doing and minding my own business," Corinne responded, her voice light even as her eyes narrowed at him.

His smirk widened, shifting into an unpleasant smile as if she'd just told him a joke. He looked over to the man standing next to him conspiratorially. "She always did have a bite."

"As all serpents should." The man's voice was low and breathy, reminiscent almost of a hiss.

Despite the prickling feeling climbing up the back of Corinne's neck from the way his dark eyes seemed to stare into her, she rolled her eyes.

"Have you met, Antonin Dolohov before? He's done some...business with your father."

This seemed to pique the interest of Dolohov whose gaze took on a more appraising quality. "You're Lycus Berenger's girl?"

"Lycus Berenger is my father. I'm my own," Corinne retorted, her voice turning sharp.

Dolohov smiled indulgently. "These are times you wouldn't want to find yourself on your own in," he said. "A good lineage and pretty face aren't enough anymore."

"Speaking from experience, Dolohov?"

Corinne closed her eyes, breathing an exasperated breath out through her nose. Of course.

Gideon Prewett strode up behind Dolohov and Mulciber, jaw set and eyes blazing. He circled the two, coming to stand next to Corinne who had half a mind to take this as her cue to just turn around and leave. But if she left Gideon here with these two, they would kill him. And nobody in Knockturn Alley would even blink an eye.

"Lost, Prewett?" Mulciber asked, his voice acidic. "Blood traitors don't belong back here."

Corinne watched as Gideon's shoulders tensed, his hand dipping into his pocket.

"Unfortunately, this one does," Corinne said, smoothly. "He's on a court errand."

"Oh," a grin overtook Mulciber's face again, making Corinne's gut twist. "Lucius mentioned you worked with one of the Prewett boys. I didn't realize you two were friendly, though."

"We're not," she said with a roll of her eyes. "He's nosy and thought he saw a chance at being noble, and I'm not about to explain to my boss how sending us on a simple retrieval task ended up with my co-worker dead."

Mulciber looked between Corinne with her arms folded and a bored look on her face, and Gideon who was glaring darkly at him, hand still in his pocket. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"You should be careful of the company you keep. Even if you are just coworkers, people may get the wrong idea of where your loyalties lie."

"My loyalties lie with myself. Not every Slytherin wants to be banded or branded property," she said coolly, her eyes drifting to the bit of red ink peeking out from under his sleeve.

Dolohov stepped forward in the next instant, and it took everything in Corinne for her to stay where she was and straighten her spine. Next to her Gideon stepped closer, his wand now out. Mulciber's was too, pointing straight at Gideon. "You would do well to learn the difference between a bite and a lack of respect," Dolohov hissed. "If you're not careful you could find yourself in more trouble than you're prepared for."

Mulciber sidled up to Dolohov's side, his wand still lazily pointed at Gideon. "I could teach her a thing or two about respect. Help her realized why it's better to be banded to our side," he drawled, his eyes lingering on Corinne as her lip curled in disgust "I may even get her to beg me for the lesson again."

Before she could so much as open her mouth to tell him that the only thing she'd beg for right now as for him to shut the fuck up, Gideon pushed himself in front of her, wand raised to Mulciber's throat. "If you touch her, it'll be the last thing you do," he snarled.

Mulciber smirked, his eyes narrowing at the red head. "You wouldn't even be able to mutter the spell before I--"

A flash of orange light zipped out of Gideon's wand as Mulciber dropped his and clutched at his face. The skin there began to puff up, as if it were boiling under the surface, swelling and reddening until he was barely recognizable under the huge welts.

Indigo light erupted from Dolohov's wand which Gideon waved away, causing a nearby jar of various creatures' eyeballs to shatter.

Next to them, a shop door flew open, banging against the front of the building. "HEY," the old witch shouted, her voice gravelly but strong as she towered within her door frame. Her hair was a wild main of grey curls, and while she had one lazy eye, the other looked so shrewdly at the four of them, Corinne was certain the witch could dispatch of each of them quite readily.

"Not in front of my shop," she growled, pointing with her wand down the alley. "Take it down to Eustace Crotchett's place."

Dolohov and Gideon both carefully lowered their wands, eyes on the other's movements, as they returned to their respective companions. Dolohov's eyes landed on Corinne with a vehemence she did not care for nor deserve.

"You may be under the Black Family's protection but there's only so much that even they can protect you from protect you from, Miss Berenger," he spat, takin hold of Mulciber's upper arm and turning to go back the way they came.

The witch at the door nodded, and let the door to her shop slam closed.

Gideon turned to Corinne. "Are you alright?"

Corinne let a frustrated sigh and spun on her heel, heading as quickly as she dared to Diagon Alley. Behind her, Gideon's quick and heavy footsteps thumped against the pavement.

"I'll take that as a yes, although a thank you might also be nice," he said, falling into step with her. Her head whipped towards him as she glared at him.

"I'll thank you when Gringotts starts handing out free Galleons," she snapped, turning the corner. Gideon still followed.

"What are you even doing back here on your own?" he asked.

"I'm a fully competent witch, and I can shop where I please," Corinne answered, dodging a drunk wizard stumbling from the pub at two in the afternoon. "Besides, if either one of us is out of place it's you. What could you possibly be doing in Knockturn Alley?"

"It doesn't matter," Gideon dismissed, and Corinne set her jaw. "I don't have a tendency to stumble into dangerous situations."

"No, you dive in headlong or create them," Corinne sniped with a sweet and altogether false smile.

"Create them?" She could hear the tension in his voice now, the frustration boiling up, and she felt oddly satisfied with herself.

"I said what I said." Corinne stopped just inside of the tunneling arch-way that led to Diagon Alley. She spun to face him, crossing her arms. "I had everything under control until you shoved yourself in."

Gideon scoffed. "Under control. It certainly seemed like you had everything under control while they were threatening you."

"People like them always threaten people they can't control," Corinne waved off with a hand. "But it doesn't change the fact that you had no right to involve yourself in that situation. It didn't concern you."

"What you expected me to just walk on by and ignore the way he was looking at you while he spoke to you like that?"

"Yes!" Corinne, yelled. "That's exactly what I expected, because it's exactly what you should have done. I don't understand your incessant need to insert yourself into my business."

"It's because I care about you!" Gideon shouted before catching himself and shaking his head. "I care about you a lot," he said in a slightly calmer voice. "More than a co-worker should. More than even friends should."

"That still doesn't give you an excuse for being an overprotective asshole," Corinne shot back.

"I'm not making excuses! I--" Gideon cut himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm trying to tell you something here, Corinne."

"You're telling me you care about me; I heard you. But I care about you too, and you didn't see making an ass out of myself over it. I was going to get us both out of there in one piece, before you went and tried to muck it all up."

He didn't say anything, instead staring at her with his brow slightly furrowed.

"What?" she snapped.

"We're just blowing past the fact that we both admitted that we care about each other?" he asked.

Corinne shrugged, folding her arms across her chest somewhat indignantly. "I planned to circle back after you apologized."

Gideon sighed, stepping closer to her. "I'm sorry if I overreacted," he apologized, his voice lower and slower than it had been.

Corinne sniffed. "You did."

"And I'm sorry I made you feel disrespected--like I didn't trust you to handle the situation."

The apology seemed genuine perhaps because he had not apologized for his actions at all, only their affects. It was rather obvious that he was not sorry for intervening at all, and she had to admit she rather admired the way he navigated the apology. It was quite Slytherin of him.

"I accept your apology," Corinne nodded curtly, and Gideon nodded back, his eyes never leaving hers. A tense quiet settled over the two of them as they stared at each other in the dimly lit archway, the bright light of Diagon Alley shining through the archway to fall across Gideon's face, illuminating his bright green eyes. She doubted the lanterns behind Gideon in Knockturn Alley did much to light up her features.

Gideon wet his lips, finally finding his voice again. "Circling back?"

"Yes, of course," Corinne nodded, taking the two quick steps over to him before claiming his lips as her own, pressing a searing kiss to them.

[magaprima]

Part 4 One Shot: Meeting Baby Adam 

The memory of the sheer fear and desperation she’d felt the night she’d...infected herself with the Dark Lord’s seed wasn’t one she was ever likely to forget. She’d known he intended to kill her, and it would neither have been quick or painless. But, as always, she’d found a way to survive, as...unpleasant as the entire arrangement had been. She’d known Lucifer’s ego wouldn’t have been able to resist the promise of a son, especially one that wasn’t diluted by mortality as Sabrina was. A stay of execution he’d called it, and that was exactly what she’d expected; after all, thirteen months was more than enough time to come up with a plan, to finish Lucifer once and for all, and ensure her own life was protected in the process. She’d hadn’t come so far only to...retreat all the way to the beginning once again. 

The baby therefore had been a means to an end. She’d birthed demonic creatures before-- not traditionally, she’d never actually been pregnant, but they were all still her children, she had given something of herself each time to make them, and they did all call her Mother. But she didn’t love them, she didn’t...excessively care for them. She’d had no reason to think this child, this Morningstar would be any different. And any sickness she’d felt, any...over-whelmining nausea he’d caused had only cemented the idea in her mind. Anything that caused her to feel this sick, this weak, at any point was not exactly going to earn her affection. 

But....whenever her stomach was settled, whenever she didn’t feel ill, when she’d finally developed a particular potion that eased those symptoms, she couldn’t deny that being aware of something growing inside her was oddly...connecting. She’d even, on occasion, found herself smiling, even humming to herself in private contentment. She decided it was due to the fact she was slowly forming a plan, that everything would, eventually, come together. The fact she flinched in displeasure whenever Lucifer named the child ‘my son’, however, was something she hadn’t really wanted to explore. Besides, there had still been many months to go, almost a year, in fact. 

If not for what happened. 

It had been a twinge at first. A muscle spasm. A brief shot of pain that had hurt but wasn’t of any real concern. But then it came again. Bigger. More painful. She’d known instantly that something was wrong and it wasn’t merely her witch instincts that told her that, but something else, some...intuition telling her there was something bad happening to the tiny life growing inside her. The pain quickly became unbearable, even in its initial short bursts. She’d tried to swallow it, to breathe through it, but something inside her was ripping through her, pushing at organs, all of her insides. Pushing them violently. 

The sudden, accelerated growth had been agonisingly fast, ripping through all of her, kicking through every part of her relentlessly, carelessly, destroying and cutting through parts of her to make room for the life inside her that was growing so much faster than was possible, even by infernal standards. And the sudden weight, the sudden change of weight of what had been  nothing more than an almost imperceptible fetus becoming a complete and whole baby, had brought her to knees, unable to balance anymore than she was able to bear the pain. 

Her concern should have been for herself and only herself. The baby was killing her and she should have thought of nothing but how to stop it, how to survive it...and yet, despite herself, her first flicker of a thought was to her son. My baby. If it was ripping her apart, then that meant he was being torn apart too; growing too fast, ripping out of her, would kill him as much as it would kill her....and not only did Lilith hate that she knew that, she hated that she cared. 

She’d known where she needed to go, the only people who could actually help her-- and her son. She’d known it even if she didn’t like it. The last time she’d gone to the Spellmans for sanctuary she’d be turned away, but if they did that this time, Lilith knew she’d die. The Spellman Sisters were not just witches, they were skilled midwives, with centuries of experience of delivering babies of all varieties. They'd been her only hope and one that, thankfully, hadn’t been misplaced. 

As she’d lay writhing on that bed, she’d known her baby was tearing apart. She hadn’t just felt it, she’d known it. She’d known then that that was what was meant to happen, someone was tearing them apart, someone was trying to kill them both, and Lilith wanted to hate the child for giving her this vulnerability. If she hadn’t been pregnant, if she hadn’t been carrying him, no one could have used this spell on her, she would have nothing to exploit, no vulnerability. The pregnancy might have, briefly, saved her life, but the baby had made her weak. It had made it possible for her enemies to not only attack her, but to succeed. She’d be ripped apart on this bed, she’d be dead and everything would have been for nothing, all of it. She’d be gone. Dead because her baby had made her weak. 

And then the pain faded. Gone. Nothing but a dull hum as all around her the witches screamed in agony, taking on her pain. She’d been bewildered, confused, not just by the power of the spell, of how it had been possible in the first place, that a mere prayer of a spell from Zelda Spellman had compelled the Goddess of Witches herself to intervene, but also that any of the coven would be willing to do it, that they’d want to spare her the pain. And she felt them pushing, all of them. All of them pushing with her, physically pushing, all of them joined to get the baby out of her, to share the pain and the suffering, all of it, to help her survive. It gave Lilith time not only to realise that she wouldn’t die, that these people were not going to let her die, but that her baby wouldn’t die either, that she’d see him, that in minutes she would, actually, see him. And she didn’t want to. She should be hating him, she should be cursing his existence for what he’d done to her....but she wasn’t. She tried, she tried so hard to hate him as she pushed, but that hatred, that oh so familiar and comforting emotion wouldn’t come. If she couldn’t hate him now, for all this, when she’d never even seen him, held him...Lilith had dreaded what it would mean when she did. 

This had not been part of her...emergency plan to save her own life. The baby had been nothing but a means to an end. A pregnancy to spare her life and a child that could, potentially and possibly, be used as some...bargaining chip at a later point. Caring for the child was never her intention nor was it her desire. And as she’d felt the creature finally slip out of her, she’d felt a cold dread grip her. She didn’t want to see him. She didn’t want to see him. But she knew Hilda would make her, that, inevitably, he would be brought to her. A son to his Mother. She didn’t want it. She didn’t want him. She didn’t want what it would mean. She was the Mother of Demons, not a mother of some actual baby. She didn’t want to be that. She didn’t want to care for something other than herself. It would make her weak, make her vulnerable, just as the pregnancy had. She wanted Lucifer gone and she wanted the throne. That’s all. She wouldn’t have some....satanic miracle change that, interfering with it.

She could hear him crying and she’d still refused to look, instead keeping her eyes on the ceiling, avoiding everyone in the room, all of it. Trying her best to ignore as Hilda cut the cord, as she wrapped him in a blanket with the clear intent of....presenting him to Lilith. She didn’t want this. She’d never wanted this. Take it away, she thought silently, take it away, even as her head turned to look, to watch Hilda. She could see a hand, just the tiniest glimpse of a hand....and she wanted to see more. She’d delivered him, it had nearly killed her, she should at least see the cause of that, to put an actual face to her near cause of death. 

But the nearer Hilda grew, the more Lilith had felt the desire to do more than see him. She wanted to hold him. He’s mine, she thought silently. He’s mine and I should be the one holding him. He’s mine. He’s mine. Without even realising what she was doing, Lilith reached out for him, her arms stretching towards Hilda, encouraging her to hand him over. She just wanted to see him, that was all, to know what it felt like....what he felt like. They’d both been attacked after all and they’d both been through the pain and trauma and....searing agony of this...unexpected delivery. Both of them. Together. 

Lilith reached out more eagerly, feeling Hilda was not being...prompt enough. And then she saw his face. Crying, upset by everything that happened and she’d felt an overwhelming desire to soothe him, to remind him he wasn’t alone in this, and to make him feel better for it. Please, give him to me, she thought, and the moment he was in her arms the....wariness disappeared, the attempted resentment, all of it, giving way to something entirely different and entirely...overwhelming. 

She loved him. There was no escaping it. She loved him. He was perfect. Instinctively, she hushed him gently, rocking him a little, wanting to soothe his cries and dry his tears. I know, she thought, I know. We were attacked, we suffered...but we survived. We’re both survivors. This love was different than anything she’d ever known; it didn’t feel like it was taking from her, it felt felt like it was giving. She’d worried that being even remotely attached the child would mean she would be weak, that she would...give up on certain goals in favour of newfound motherhood. Instead, it was the opposite. Lilith felt a flame inside her burn brighter than ever as her determination became fiercer than ever too. For him, for her son. Her son who she loved and who she would protect at all costs. He’d started his life in suffering, but she’d make sure he wouldn’t live that way. Lucifer wouldn’t come near him, none of Hell’s Court would...not until she and her son were both ruling over it. 

She’d never known love could be such a...rallying strength, how powerful it could really be, until now. She loved him and she had no desire to deny it, not to herself, not to anyone.

“He’s perfect” She declared, “A perfect little devil”

[trickster-4]

Luz is Shabranigdo !?

Chapter 4

Sorry it’s been a while, this chapter was uncooperative.. Gonna take a nap..

“So Eda’s ancestor met me in Atlantis…” Luz sat down on a nearby stump. She felt herself struggling to smile.. It was a small light in comparison to the destruction that happened.. Yet, Eda the second closest thing she had to a mother and the most wonderful person she had met was born because of those past actions.. Who knows maybe there were other small lights? “She ended up becoming a witch.. “

“You know the Clawthorne Family has been a very prominent family.. History changing in fact…”

“Really?”

“Yup.. They were responsible for a lot of reformations..” Amity had a look of pride in her eyes.. Her eye’s grew a little sad as nostalgia grew in her thoughts.. She used to consider it an honor to study under Lilith.. “They broke down a lot of caste systems.. Put an end to a lot of insane laws.. People called them Heroes… Sadly much of their changes were undone by the rise of Emperor Belos.. But, when people think powerful witches from ancient history they tend to think Lina Inverse-Clawthorne..”

“I think I remember her..” Luz blushed at the memory of the most tsundere witch she could remember. “She and Gourry were so in love, but he was so dumb..” She laughed at the memory of their arguments, chases, and how they fought over food.. “It took a long time for him to actually realize that much less confess it..”

“Reaally?”

“Yeah it took end of the world nonsense..” Luz shook her head in utter disappointment at that kind of boneheaded ignorance. “You know.. I originally thought the reason I was.. punished was darker.. That I tried to destroy the world for the laughs...”

“Yeah I heard..” Amity gazed at Luz with concern and worry.. “Don’t forget we just saw that your soul was literally ripped apart seven ways.. Soul fragmentation can make people unstable.. Memories can get jumbled up even when the pieces go back when they’re supposed to be.. My guess is the memories of your punishment got mixed with the memories of your later fragments.”

“I hope there’s not gonna be anymore problems..”Luz turned away from Amity. This had been a harrowing experience and Eda had pushed Amity to go through it with her.. Letting her see all these issues.. It grated on certain learned instincts.

“Hey don’t worry Luz.. We’re with you.. Okay?”

“Okay..” Luz lit up again. She hugged Amity tightly before reaching into her pocket and pulled the bell. “Let’s go..” She rang it twice..

Seconds later…

Luz woke up to see Lilith chained with her staff currently lying in Eda’s grip. Amity got up not too soon after and a sour frown grew on her face..

“Lilith..”

“Amity..”

“You wanna run it by me how Luz was a threat to you and how that justified lethal force?”

“She’s the lord of darkness! Literally the source of all dark magic..”

“She was a fourteen year-old girl barely my age struggling with magic. No offense..”

“None taken..”

“And you had to the gall to kidnap her to threaten just to get an advantage over Eda. How is that civilized? How is that any better than how you say the wild witches were.. If her powers hadn’t woke up..”

“But, she didn’t die… Frankly I’m not certain anything could kill her..”

“You did all this to secure your place with a tyrant..”

“That’s treason..”

“Is it really treason if the civilization isn’t worth preserving? … eight hundred thousand people…”

“..Excuse me?” Lilith’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Amity with growing fear and desperation. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing her apprentice couldn’t know could she? “What are you talking about?”

“What does she mean Amity?”

“… Our population is dwindling Luz.. There are witches disappearing from time to time..” Amity pinned Lilith with a glare.. “Their palismans are taken, artifacts destroyed, and research burned.. He’s feeding on us isn’t he?”

“…..I won’t say another word..”

“Right because of your little collar..”

Everyone turned to look at Luz who was startled before rubbing the back of her head with an embarrassed smile.. “Ooh right sorry about that still have Atlantis on the brain.. The contract in her wrist reminds me of the sigil contracts the nobles used to use for their slaves… I mean the spell work is almost exactly alike… This is reaally uncomfortably for me now..”

“Wait you’re saying the coven system is based on Atlantean Slavery?”

“Basically? I mean think about it you can control any potential avenues for the middle class mages.. And keep them from being a potential threat by making them weaker..”

“In that case were would Lilith have been?” Eda grinned towards her sister eyes filled mischievous mirth

“A highly valued tutor or courtesan. Based on her limiters and tracking glyphs..”

“Courtesan?!” An infuriated Lilith growled.

“Limiter?!”

“Ha that’s rich imagine conservative Lilith as a courtesan..” Eda grinned as Lilith began to blush and fume.. She decided against pushing it any further given there kids in the room. “So not a noble?”

“I can’t really say Atlantean Witches were really weird about family lineage…” Luz had to resist the urge to facepalm. That ideology was so stupid.. Ceifeed had originally noticed a number of genetic illness arising from harmful genes.. He had repaired the damage, but complained about having to do it so often.. So he taught his priests how to fix the problems… Some people heard his words and went completely off the wall and started obsessing over linage and blood.. “If they knew about your ancestor originally being a human slave girl.. They’d get all twitchy.. That said no Nobles ever had them.. They were the only free mages who never wore such degrading things..”

“Ha looks like between you and me I’m the only nobility..” Eda laughed to herself.. “That said human ancestor?”

“Indeed please explain.”

“Edalin she was a first generation witch a real prodigy.. She was born human and acquired magic later in life..” Luz smiled as she thought fondly of the child. “Good kid glad to see she got to become a witch.”

“Wait Edalin the Uniter was a human slave girl?!” Lilith shouted with shock she suddenly felt lightheaded… And fainted..

“Uh Lilith?”

“Is she gonna be okay?”

“That used to happen to her a lot as kids..”

“Yeesh someone is a lightweight for heavy truths.” Luz shook her head with amusement.

“Yup.. By the way Amity your mom called I told you were spending some time with the dark lord doing some rituals here and she was welcome to pick you up but she backed off did for some strange reason..”

There was silence through the house. Amity looked afraid and worried. Her mom has come here to this place.. Her mother was always an unstoppable force of nature whenever she wanted to get something. It was the same with her father as well. Their way or no way.

“.. Uh Amity are your parents Ceifeed worshippers?” Luz questioned curiously.

“No they’re agnostic.. But, I think they may have seen your clash with Emperor Bellows so they definitely believe now…”

“Wait how would they have seen that?”

“Some activist group called anoma-witch broadcasted it on all our arcane transmissions… “ Amity smiled as she recalled the shock of her family. The twins had dropped their pancakes onto the floor Elmira cried shortly after.. Her father was aghast and shocked at the sheer gall of such an attack on the seat of their government. Her mother on the other hand she looked absolutely terrified.

“… Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Nooo!! I don’t want people using that spell!!!” Luz shouted in a panicked voice smashing her hand into the wall. She looked at the ground horrified remembering how that spell was gleefully and carelessly given to the Atlantean military branch who used to it conquer the surrounding nations.. She nearly started hyperventilating before Amity touched her shoulder.. Luz looked to Amity.. “Please tell me that words from that spell were scrubbed from the audio…”

“It actually was.. They must have known what would happen..”

“Thank goodness.. I can never use that spell again… It felt so right..” Luz looked horrified as she remembered how she felt in that moment that sadistic glee in her heart and the fear in Lilith’s eyes.. The thought of watching the life in her eyes drain away. She felt that dark magic wasn’t worth it.. “It’s so enticing, intoxicating, and I won’t use it again… And I don’t want anyone else to use it either..”

“Luz… You can’t be afraid of dark magic.. It’s literally half of all spells you use.. “ Amity invited Luz to sit with her.. Luz sighed before sitting next to the green haired witch.. “After the fall of Atlantis when the gods vanished.. Many of the the spells we witches used no longer functioned.. We were scared afraid that our powers would disappear one day yet they never did.. Magic persisted and grew stronger once more.. Eventually we discovered that much of your and Ceifeed’s energies had been infused in us and the earth.. And we learned how to mold and shape the magic you left us.. This is what mortal magic is… Yet despite it’s unpleasant origins it amazing and wonderful.. Dark magic your magic.. it’s half of what you love so much Luz.. You contributed to something wonderful so please don’t be afraid of it..”

“.. Yeah you’re right.. You know even at my worst when forced to I began to care for Edalin..” Luz perked up as she thought about all the friends that were supporting her throughout all of this. Willow, Gus, Eda, King, A-And Amity.. She looked at the green haired witch noting the gentleness and compassion.. “Thank you so much Amity..” She took of Amity tightly hugging her closely..

“You’re welcome..”

As the room was occupied with the drama no one noticed the flow of magic emanating from Lilith’s clothing. A quick concealment ward casted by the Emperor shielded his astral presence from detection.

“Well well Lilith you played your role magnificently. You were so terrified of me and concerned with warning your sister that you failed to notice the scrying sigils in your cloak..”Emperor Belos eyes glowed as he began to search for the Owl House for two things… He looked through the living room, before moving to the kitchen, and then through the various bedrooms. The Emperor would sigh in annoyance, as it turned out it seems the Owl lady kept the key on herself at all times.. But, on the other hand… The human’s device was left out on her desk.. “Little Luz you really must keep an eye on your personal effects like this.. “ He gingerly sunk a finger into the device and his mind began to tear through the meager password protection.. “Hmm Camilla Noceda..” Belos spent time his time reading through Luz’s texts learning what he could of her.

He began to laugh upon realizing that there was only one more thing necessary to force Luz into his plans.. A few minutes later he cut the connection from the scrying symbols.

The Emperor began to form a new spell using the evocative nature of Old Magic as a base for it.. “I call the one who brought forth the dawn. The one who tirelessly heals during the day and night. The blind one who does not understand the true nature of things..”

“Quaint..” Belos noted as a red circle began to form in the air before erupting into a portal.. It was unstable but it would last for his purposes.. “Let’s see..” He reached in and pulled hard retrieving a middle aged Dominican woman wearing a blue nurse’s outfit. “Ah now you must be Luz Noceda’s mother..” He smiled as a look of fear, recognition, and anger grew in the woman’s eyes at the mention of that name.

“Bastardo!! ¡¿Qué le hiciste a mi hija?!!” Camilla stopped speaking as the strange masked man began to shush her and she suddenly noticed how much bigger he was than her.. “What did you do to my daughter?! If you’ve hurt her!”

“I have done nothing of the sort, but I will if she doesn’t do exactly as I say..”

Meanwhile back at the Owl House…

Lilith woke up with a headache she was still in chains and her arms were getting pretty sore. She sighed and spun her fingers dematerializing the chains.

“Well done Lilith my faithful servant..”

“Emperor Belos… How are yo.. The Coven Brand..”

“Indeed.. You did just as I planned inform your sister and her apprentice that I have her mother..”

“Sir that’s..”

“Tell them that she will give me the key by midnight or I will have fun testing any number of lethal spells on human physiology..”

“….”

“Oh that reminds me by the way Lilith you’re fired. You can pick up anything you left behind here, but you’re no longer welcome to employment in my services.. Have fun doing whatever is you like to do in your spare time..”

“….” Lilith sat there in silence as the connection was severed.. She felt her world falling apart her hand shook as the coven glyph dissolved from her wrist. Years of sacrifice, constantly plotting, and countless hours of competing to stay at the top to be the Emperor’s most favored servant.. And this was her reward after giving him everything… A long distance banishment laced with false kindness.. Her head fell into her hands and she began to cry..

Eda Luz and Amity hearing Lilith crying approached her. They noticed she was free and Eda raised her staff, but then lowered it realizing that her tears were very much real. “Well this was awkward..”Eda really hoped this breakdown wasn’t about the deathhex she sent to Lilith’s mailbox..

“Uh Lilith?”

“I-I messed up… Belos told me I was free to go..” Lilith then slowly looked to Luz in fear.. “I never knew please believe I didn’t know..”

“What did you do?” Luz’s eyes narrowed as she glared at Lilith.

“… Belos placed several spells he was here seconds ago in astral form looking for the key.. He found the next best thing the location and name of your mother..”

“How?!”

“Even if that bonehead got that information it’s impossible for him to do anything with it..” Eda placed a calming hand on Luz’s shoulder. “Nothing will come of it.”

“You underestimate him Edalyn.” Lilith shook her head terror in her eyes. “Belos knows more about the ancient magic than most mortals.. He summoned your mother here..”

“How!! She’s not a mage, dragon, or demon?!” Luz couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her mother the woman who flinched during Halloween had a presence in the astral realm strong enough to be summoned.. How was that even possible!?

“She gave birth to you.. You are the source of all black magic.. And in order to give birth to you your mother was altered enough to survive your reemergence into this world. That’s enough magic for certain summoning rituals to work.”

“… I have to go..”

“Luz..”

“It’s my mother!!” Luz screamed.. Her eyes glowed red as she made her way to the door dark bat-like wings began to form on her back.. “I’m going to find her..”

“Stop..” Eda sighed at her apprentice’s foolish attitude.. This was a trap more than likely he was planning something the question is what.. “I’ll fly us it’ll give us time to discuss a plan.”

“Thank you Edalyn..” She gave her a relived hug her wings disappeared as they dissolved into shadow.. Luz let go slowly and began to look towards the door with worry and concern.

“Your welcome..” Edalyn reassured her apprentice gently as they all walked together towards the door.

Belos’s palace…

“Go to hell!”

“Ha.. Tell me do you know what your daughter really is?”

“I know that she’s a better person than you’ll ever be..”

“Perhaps it’s all a matter of perspective.. Shabranigdo the demon god of darkness and in the ancient world the lord of black magic and in the modern world the source of dark magic..” Belos gestured towards an ancient demonic statue with fangs, horns, wings, and ruby eyes. Camilla stared at the strange relic wondering what the ancient history of this old god had to do with her and her family. “She was one of the patron gods of ancient Atlantis and sunk it when it served it’s purpose.. It’s half of all magic part of the very fabric of our being. And I plan to control it..”

“.. What do your stories have to do with my daughter!?”

“Tell me was her birth troublesome? Where there sudden storms on that day? Did ash began to fall from the sky when it was finally over?”

“… Yes..” Camilla was stunned by this stranger listing the various events that surrounded Luz’s birth. “I don’t see what that has to do with..”

“All three occurrences are symptoms of a demonic birth.. Usually if there it’s one it’s a common demon.. two occurrence mean a demon of considerable strength. Three occurrences.. The demon god was prophesied to display all three symptoms on the hour of it’s rebirth with a human as the mother.. Shabranigdo the progenitor of the demon race..”

“… Are you saying my daughter is the devil?” Camilla scoffed.

“… To many people she would be such.. she is the original destroyer… Countless civilizations have been destroyed by the spells she created.. Such is her purpose and nature..”

“You’re insane..”

“Maybe..” Belos shrugged uncaringly. “It doesn’t mean I am not right.”

Outside Belos’s Palace…

Luz Noceda approached the Emperor’s Palace alone the numerous guards moved aside all while her very presence caused the Emperor’s various scrying spells to leave specific blank spots for her friends to exploit.. Numerous restrictive spells around Luz collapsed as she was wreathed in a crimson dark aura. Numerous Witches felt the malevolence from her and backed away in fear.. Several flowers around the palace began to crumble into ash as they aged at an accelerated rate…

Kikimora guarded the chamber the Emperor was waiting in for Luz. She shook at the sheer malevolence in Luz’s presence ancient instincts told her that this was her progenitor, her maker..

“Move aside speck..” Luz spoke with an old cruel authority in her voice ..

“.. M-My lord awaits you..” The demonic woman stuttered as she stepped aside and the door opened for the dark god.

As Luz stepped forward she sighed Amity, Eda, and Lilith would have to move fast.. Belos was powerful she could feel his presence.. It felt corrupted so twisted in a way a mortal could not be.. He was feeding on something powerful enough to give even the greatest of her old servants an impossible task.. And she was comparatively inexperienced, granted she had immeasurable knowledge as the lord of black magic, but Luz couldn’t use that knowledge reliably due to the emotional baggage.. However.. She extended a hand and imagined the fire glyph before drawing a crimson circle.. A powerful fireball grew in her palm..

“Perfect..” Luz Noceda stepped inside waking into the chamber. She began to notice two things, this room was dimly lit and that it wasn’t the throne room. Emperor Belos was seated in a chair at the end his eyes glowing blue menacingly. “Let my mother go!” She shouted with determination.

[devintrinidad]

I haven't watched it Akadama Drive the way through. But I have seen a lot of it. It's almost too gorey for me. But the visuals are a real treat and it definitely has the cyberpunk cool factor down. Swindler was a great main character! (I never shipped her with Cutthroat. I knew the psychopath was that. A psychopath and I bet he was going to turn on them at anytime. And he did! Never be distracted by the childish antics pretty boy serial killers!). 

I'm interested in the future of AD. I heard the last episode was getting a special Directors cut including a alternative ending. I also heard the AD creators were happy to hear AD is doing well in the west so fans are wondering if that means their hoping to make a S2? I don't keep up with AD news so I'm not sure if that's their intention or not. But I did hear a fan theory that S2 could be about the bad guys using technology to bring at least of the main characters back to life (considering Swindler had a religious themed death and both her and Courier's bodies could easily be recovered. Plus revival through tech is such a Cyberpunk staple) because Brother and Sister are still targets and they were would where to look for them. 

So maybe AD still has a bright future ahead with more content to explore the world (I honestly think Hacker could easily be a main character in any sequal). 

Onto the CAW/AD verse.

I could totally see 3803 being this epic biker chick.... Who gets lost easily. But because she does all these crazy stunts, her enemies (who don't know her yet) think she's planning everything to confuse them. X D 

I could see 1146's akudama name being Bodyguard. Because when he's not acting like one for 3803 and Platelet. He's taking up bodyguard jobs for anyone who needs them. For the right price and reason. If you're a scumbag who hurts innocent people, he'll kill you on the spot. But be nice enough to return the moneyto your corpse. Unless 3803 or Platelet needs something, then he'll strip you of all your dough and leave you penniless. He has a very ruthless rep. But he's so good at what he does, his help is in high demand. Ecspecially for someone who needs a bodyguard they can trust (and they know they aren't or won't act like scum around him to earn his wrath). He's fine with helping criminals. Just not ones who do a lot of harm to innocents or are involved in nasty business like trafficking or something.

Story wise things change up.

The way I see things here is that Cancer is the one secretly in charge and why things are so wrong. He's this absolute monster of a human being who gained immortality hundreds of years ago. He went nuts and caused wars and blew up the moon. He wants all the power and has created societies in his own twisted corrupted image (basically his dream in canon coming true here). But he's noticed after awhile things always go bad under his leadership and nearly everything dies. Instead of starting over again and again. He's decides to find a way to force everyone to become immortal like him so that even if they're killed. They'll have no choice but to come back to life like he does. If he has to suffer this, then so does everyone else. 

That's where 3803 and Platelet come in. For decades, Cancer has been collecting and experimenting on people in secret in order to figure out how to gift them with his immortality. 3803 and Platelet are surviving lab rats who managed to escape during a explosion happening in the building. 3803 is the closest he's come to achieving his goal. 3803 would later tell 1146 she has no idea how immortal she is and it scares her to death that she might be unable to die like Cancer. All she knows is that she can take a lot of damage and recover in time. She's been able to age a little. But she hopes she's not being paranoid about looking younger and smaller for her age (Macrophage, another Akudama who knows her secret, tells her it's common for girls like her to look younger then they are and that she has gotten bigger since they first met. But 3803 is still a little concerned). 3803 also has no idea about Platelets status in all this since she's never been badly hurt and she's aged normally. But she's also never gotten sick a day in her life and she was put in the same cell as her. The scientists saying all she needed was a little tweaking and they'd both be closer to becoming their goal. 

Ohhh, I didn't even think about 4989 and the others being 1146's enemies. I assumed they'd follow his lead eventually. Say they're dissapointed in him. Because yeah things are corrupt. But that's no reason to become a criminal and abandon their dreams of making the city a better place. They weren't there when he turned traitor so all they've been told is he got beguiled by some witch (3803 gets a very exaggerated and unpleasent rep along the Executioners for turning their top soldier against them. 1146 was already having serious doubts on his own but the organization puts the blame on her regardless). Eventually they get told by a superior officer if they can capture both 1146 and 3803 alive, they'll take 1146 back instead of executing or throwing him in jail. They'll strip him of his Akudama name and only punish him by putting a bomb collar on him until he redeems himself to them. It's not ideal. But for their friend they'll take it. They do eventually find and fight 1146 and even manage to knock him out and tie him up. They're prepared to fight 3803... Until they meet her face to face. From the rumours, they were expecting this buff scary woman who could rip their faces off. Instead they meet this determined but petite girl who looks like she'd hurt herself trying punch them. Even worse she's holding this little scared crying girl calling her big sis in her arms. They're the picture of defenselessness and it's suddenly making them not comfortable with this. This goes two ways: either they decide to cool down for a sec and let 3803 and 1146 explain themselves and then make the choice to leave and become akudamass too. Or, they harden themselves and take her anyway. 3803 promises to come quietly if they let her little sister go (they don't suspect Platelet is the Akadama Bomber). 3803 is hoping if she goes alone, She can at least convince Cancer Platelet died years ago and was a failed test subject. They agree and 3803 has to push Platelet away and yell at her to go (she knows she'll go to Macrophage so she'll be fine) because Platelet knows what's happening and is desperate enough to almost throws a small bomb at them (but 1146 would get caught up in the blast and 3803 glares at her to obey so she doesn't). The WBC squad does feel bad since they're not used to dealing with vulnerable women and children who can't fight back. 

When 1146 wakes up in a room with his superior officer telling him he's back and not getting a bomb collar. He's getting brain surgery and it's a surprise what that's going to be. Needless to say, 1146 is pissed beyond words. He's going to be forced to be their top dog somehow again. Platelet is alone and scared. 3803 is going to be carted off to Cancer so Cancer can make things even worse. Needless to say he manages to make his case to his friends who see definitely now know being a Akadama is better then this. Half of them go to rescue 1146 before he gets brain surgery and the others go get 3803 before Cancer can.

That's my idea of it anyway. Cause the WBC squad would actually be really good akadamas.

Now when it comes to 1146 fighting allies a lot. My initial idea was before he left, 1146 was the best of the best alongside NK and Killer T. They were the power trio that stood above the rest with a 100% success rate in missions once all three worked together. But unlike the WBS squad. They stick to their Executioner roles. I see this because in CAW canon, despite being softies inside, both Killer T and NK have this 'don't get chummy with civilians' mentality. Killer T ecspecially getting on 1146 for wanting to interact and go soft with them. In AD verse, NK and Killer T ultimately believe the Executioners are a nessecary evil at worst because the world needs them to be (Idk, you can keep the germs and make them monsters that Executioners have to fight to keep the city save too. Of course all of them are secretly made by Cancer to convince the most 'noble' of Executioners to keep the corrupted status quo).  When 1146 left, they took it personally. Particularly Killer T. NK keeps things more professional, but both want Roto resolve things with 1146 and see it as their duty to take him down. They don't believe 1146 about the whole conspiracy of a immortal Cancer ruling the world and doing all this other unbelievable stuff. Even when they see 3803 surviving a lot of damage, they chalk it up to her having access to some high tech she stole. Either way I'm conflicted on them being tragic villains who refuse to stop fighting 1146 and capture 3803 under orders or villains who get redeemed at the end. 

But Akadama Killer T. Tell me more? What's he like?

Other stuff-

Macrophage is called Hacker. Both because she can hack her targets into pieces with her axe and because she's a famous computer hacker. She found 3803 and Platelet years ago after they had escaped from the underground lab. She was reasearching for fun what the base was and discovered its use for making immortality. She took the two girls in to raise as if they were her own and trained them how to survive as Akadama (more so 3803 since she's older). When Macrophage isn't a assassin for hire, she's using her hacking abilities as mission control for 3803 when she's on the job. She helps her not get too lost and handles money transactions. They see her as the mom they never had despite that she's really only around 14 years older then them. 

Platelet loves blowing things up. She likes building things too. But bombing things helps her little family out more. She'll often plant tiny bombs all over the city and has Macrophage use her computer to keep track of them so she can detonate them when she sees a use to (like blowing up anyone chasing 383 while she's on her motorcycle). She adores 1146 and loves having him be part of her family. Partly because he's so strong and protective she doesn't have to worry as much about 3803 as much with him around. It's unknown just how much the experiments affected her too. All that's known is she's never been sick and barely needs any sleep to operate and always has nothing but energy to spare. She gets scared easily when 3803 might get taken away because her big sis has always been there for her and she's terrified of Cancer destroying her life and family again. If she lost 3803 she doesn't think she'd known how to live ob without her.

Cancer refers to all his experiments as his children. He calls 3803 and Platelet his daughters in particular and plans on having them back and fully like him so they can be his perfect family. He's actually known them since they were babies since, before they escaped, they've spent most, if not, all their lives in his care at the lab.

In this verse, 1146 is a much more aggressive pursurer of 3803's affections. He's still shy about making moves and acts stoic. But it's apparent he's interested in her early on and after awhile he makes no secret he wants to marry her. It always surprises her when he talks about wanting to marry her because he's too shy to flirt with her or even ask her on a date. He's both unable to make the first move, yet is very blunt about his desired intentions. She on the other hand is more hesitant. With her unknown immortality status, she's afraid she can't grow old with him and would deny him a normal wife. He simply says he wants her and no one else will ever do. 

3803 feels bad about him becoming a criminal. He's fighting his friends and comrades and has a huge life sentence on him all because he protected he. He tells her even if he has never met her. He knows sooner or later he would have left on his own and been branded a Akadama. Meeting her just have him another reason to believe in protecting others. Plus she does let him live with her and her for free. She still tries to pay him for his services when he protects her on the job. Initially he takes the money. But after too long she finds out all he does with the money is buy her things she was planning on getting later anyway. He basically was doing her errands for her. She gave up after that. 

 1146 is very protective of 3803's secret and has killed people over it to protect her. Those people being top high level Executioners who are in on Cancer's existence and his plans. 1146 knows the moment Cancer can get 3803 and confirm her ID. There's going to be a lot of trouble. He's made it a goal to either turn those people to his side or kill them all until there's no one left. When Cancer hears of this, he calls him a kind killer. 

Macrophage once jokes 1146 should be called Husband instead of Bodyguard because that's what he acts like with 3803. All overprotective and lovey dovey. He hates it when other men flirt with him and scared them off. 

Cancer is actually more aware of 3803 and Platelets activity then anyone thinks. It's just that he's immortal so time is a little for him. He kind of enjoys watching them hide and run and wondering how far he can push 1146 in his efforts to protect them. 

That's all I got I think. Putting in Cancer kind of changes things up but I also think he strangely fits in there very well. 

Any other ideas you have?

~~~

Oh my! It’s been a while since you’ve made such a long and lovely submission! First things first, yes, Swindler is best girl!!!

Heheh, I found Cutthroat/Swindler to be somewhat cute, but I had a feeling things would turn out for the worst when the team ultimately separated after Doctor’s betrayal and the fight with the Executioners. It was a pretty cool dynamic and I love how Swindler ultimately turned the tables on him.

(I’m a bit leery as to why he could see her “red halo” from so far away, but I suppose it was due to insanity/supernatural influences).

And yup! There was going to be a director’s cut. A Youtuber actually translated the tweets that directors had regarding the director’s cut and discovered that it was going to be an extra seven minutes of footage and would feature scenes that would help flesh out the last episode more.

It’s super interesting.

LINK HERE

Ooohhhh, a season 2 where we can see best girl and Courier to come back??? To be honest, I like the series where it stands. It had a message, stuck with it, but managed to punch it all in with masterful animation techniques and storytelling. One of the characters that I think would definitely come back, should probably be Hacker. He was a god of cyberspace and savvy with technology.

Someone once speculated that he’s smart: he would definitely upload a backup of himself somewhere.

(Another person thought that Hacker must have saved himself on Swindler’s phone because his drone icon was there after his final parting gift).

I think the best way to add onto the series would be to revisit their backgrounds? Then again, I checked out the available manga chapters that have been translated thus far, and it seems they might delve a little into that territory.

Maybe a one shot episode where we get to see all the Akudama go about their daily lives where they sometimes interact (unknowingly) Durarara style (another great anime you should watch if you have the time).

Hacker as main character??? Yes please???

3803 would definitely do crazy tricks, hahah. She’s simultaneously skilled and unskilled with her bike. She’s like the... Captain Jack Sparrow of the series except instead of being drunk all the time, she’s somewhat clueless and innocent.

Bodyguard is such a lovely name. Like... I can picture it and it really fits. Not only does it satisfy his canon role of protecting, it actually helps him from actually killing too many people unnecessarily. He’ll do it if he has to, but his main goal is to protect his charge, not go after any assassins and whatnot.

Ooooohhhh, I love Cancer here! You make him out to be some terrible god of destruction and chaos and I absolutely adore it. And the motive for immortality makes more sense in this au then in the canon for AD, hahah. But yes, I imagine after years of destruction and infamy, he would definitely feel lonely and bitter.

So of course, why not drag the rest of humanity down with him?

3803 and Platelet both being somewhat immortal beings? Yes??? And Macrophage being one of their true confidants? Also yes??? (WHERE ARE YOU GETTING ALL THESE GOOD IDEAS???)

I know later on you’ll talk about Macrophage being a hacker (because of major hacking skills in tech and in killing), but what about this: she’s the Doctor from AD. Not a backstabber, but one who was somewhat affiliated with the idea of immortality. Maybe she was one of the scientists who helped raise 3803 and Platelet and after discovering that all the rest of the experiments died and only two remained, she decided enough was enough and got them out of Cancer’s hold.

Hmm... how about we combine Hacker and Doctor to create Scientist instead? She’s cold and ruthless underneath her ladylike vibes, but she truly does feel for the plight of 3893 and Platelet.

I don’t know, it would make for an interesting dynamic.

Oooohhh, I love the confrontation with WBC squad and 3803. They’re so geared and ready (4989 is definitely sweating bullets while the others reassure him). Also, you know how in AD canon that the Executions are always in pairs? Let’s have 2001 and 1145 the original pairing before he broke out. Then, 4989 with 2626 and 2048 and Eosinophil while 2001 gets stuck with Band Cell. Because, why not.

(Or, we go back to one of my most heinous friendships I ever created, 2001 and Dendritic Cell).

Can I also say that Bomber is such a bomb name for Platelet? (Pun completely intended).

And yeah, the WBC squad are definitely really uncomfortable when they undergo some cognitive dissonance here... perhaps it’s starting at this moment that they realize that Akudama aren’t that different from normal people... or the Executioners.

Bomb collars and surgery for 1146??? Ooohhhh, he must really be the top Executioner... I wonder if he’ll reunite with 2001 again as his partner or get someone new who can help control him. Because NK and Killer T are definitely partners.

On a side note you mentioned that they think that Executioners are a necessary evil. It’s like your acknowledging and somewhat hinting that they know this is wrong and that Akudamas aren’t inherently bad, but do so anyway because of a corrupt legal system. I love it. It really adds to the depth of the characters.

And yes, we need tragic villains with feelings.

As for Akudama Killer T... Maybe he went through some mental breakdown before realizing that the Executioners aren’t always right )if they were ever right in the first place). Perhaps he breaks like 1146 did, but instead of using his skills for constructive purposes, he goes all out and doesn’t care about the law anymore. He sort of becomes 1146’s foil. They’re both rear Executioners, both saw the errors of their ways, but while 1146 becomes a protector in his own way, maybe Killer T decides to become a mercenary.

I don’t know, I love parallels and showcasing how far characters have done.

(I REALLY WANTED PUPIL EXECUTIONER TO BECOME AN AKUDAMA OR AT LEAST HAVE A MOMENT TO HERSELF, BUT IT NEVER HAPPENED. AT LEAST THE DIRECTORS CUT IS SAID TO ADDRESS THAT).

Cancer as a father?

Cancer as a family man?

I... that’s a concept I never considered. Just, I can only imagine him playing with all of his experiments, knowing that one day, most of them will end up dying. He probably favors 3803 over Platelet because of how close they are in physical appearance/age and acts creepy about it.

(Is this my Abnormalities!verse writing urge acting up again, probably).

Hehehe, why but blunt 1146. That is so cute and adorable. He and 3803 constantly dance around the issue, especially due to the whole immortality thing, but he makes it clear that he doesn’t care. Though he doesn’t know it, he’s actually quite suave when he finally convinces her that it’s the time they spend together now that matters so they won’t regret in the future.

3803 swoons.

Husband??? Yes???

Macrophage as confirmed 3803/1146 shipper? Why not???

Ooohhh, Cancer is more aware than what was already expected... I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA!!!

So I know that I said earlier that Macrophage would be a combination of Hacker and Doctor, why not also make Cancer have Hacker elements? Think about it, he’s practically immortal and it was never truly confirmed how immortality works in AD canon. Maybe his immortality is due to a combination of high technology and organic stuff. Maybe, he can upload his consciousness at will so that he can “supervise” his children. It also adds credence to the whole “3803 had high tech to help her stave off heavy damage” that Killer T and NK think is what’s going on. I don’t know, I just think it would be cool to have Cancer be a god in the physical and technological world.

He would be so OP, but that’s what Cancer probably would want in CAW canon, so there, hahah.

Hmm, anything else? Let’s see, Killer T as an Akudama would definitely be more of a Brawler character... I don’t have anybody down for Hoodlum... But who do you think would be a best fit for Head Executioner? At first, I wanted Helper T, but I realized that he doesn’t get super utilized in canon, so why not make him Executioners alongside Regulatory T. Seriously, they don’t get enough screen time (especially Regulatory T).

As for the majority of Akudamas, most are definitely pathogens or germs, but I’m assuming some of them are actually Normal Cells... Normal Cells with benign mutations, but somehow get the attention of Executioners.

But yeah, this was an awesome little au. I’m down to read some action packed nonsense with these characters. You should definitely try your hand at writing this, hahah!

[kinetic-elaboration]

February 17: 2x07 Catspaw

It’s not Halloween but it is my mom’s birthday so a very good opportunity to watch Catspaw.

So we start with Sulu and Scotty missing on an away mission but why exactly the Enterprise is here and what the away mission was is not explained...

Also speaking of interesting and unusual combos--Scotty and Sulu!

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

I like Uhura’s nails. They go so well with her communications board. Even her job is stylish.

Oooh, possessed dead mannequin crew member warning the ship that it has been cursed?? Very promising.

Also falling like that was an impressive stunt.

Lol Assistant Chief Engineer Dealle is in charge because the first and second in command are going after the third and fourth in command. What would TNG have to say about that??

According to the Amazon trivia, Uhura was supposed to be the next in command and in charge of the ship in this ep but NBC didn’t want a woman in charge and can I just say that if this is true we were ROBBED.

Oooh mysterious fog.

Chekov and his terrible wig. Should have left him in charge.

Also it’s interesting that this is the first Chekov episode in production order and he’s actually not the navigator. He’s Spock’s backup.

This is like a game of telephone: Chekov tells Desalle to tell Uhura to tell Kirk.

This is a very serious, creepy, mysterious opening in a lot of ways (the dead crewman mystery) but I remember this as more of a goofy, silly episode. (But actually upon having now seen the whole thing... it’s more serious than I remembered in its sci fi concepts! I guess I was just remembering the witches lol.)

Honestly those witches... I guess Macbeth is a pretty big part of Earth Lore lol. I think McCoy is alarmed and unsettled by this while Spock is more intrigued and Kirk just thinks it’s dumb.

I love Kirk’s face when Spock’s only comment is “bad poetry.” Hilarious. Like “I love you but please be more helpful. This is Serious Time not time to play games and fuck with me.”

I really like Kirk in this episode. He’s giving off smart, curious explorer vibes. (Although I will say, with the whole episode down... he is very harsh on the aliens. I mean he lost a man in the opening and so he’s not down to clown but still.. I think he overestimates their hostility some.)

Creepy castle. Trick-or-treating. I want the deleted scene where Kirk explains Trick-or-Treating to Spock.

Kirk looks so frustrated by the cat.

“I’m not that green.” Lol.

What a talented cat actor!! Trot trot trot.

“Bones? I mean...the other Bones?” Maybe a different nickname today. That’s a really underrated joke.

I wish they’d picked up on Spock and put some Vulcan horror in there too. (Although I guess creating horror tropes wasn’t exactly their intention...) I wonder what Vulcan subconscious horror is like.

That was actually a pretty cool transition from the dungeon to the dining room.

Kirk would be more impressed with all this if they hadn’t killed someone. He’s never up for fun and games when someone’s dead. He’s very dubious about all of this, especially the cat.

Hmm, they are not native.

Kirk’s face just screams: “So the cat...is talking...to you?” (Actually you know what, I do think it’s very interesting that Korob can understand Sylvia even when she’s speaking in a different language.)

I bet young Spocks read about wizards and familiars and was super taken with the idea.

I don’t believe for one second that Spock’s thoughts are black and white lol. This decadent bitch? No way.

None of this is Kirk’s interest. Illusions, weird tricks, people who don’t give straight answers. This is not the way to impress him or make him want to help you in any way.

McCoy the jewel expert. These look real!

You like shiny stuff right humans? Pretty crystalline forms for you?? Not in a post-scarcity utopia!

McCoy has just realized this woman IS the cat.

Hmmm, telepathy, like Spock’s?

I want that Enterprise necklace!!

“You do with your minds what we do with tools.”

Lol at Kirk thinking he’s won because he can send another search party. Like... how’d the last search party work out for you?

Mmm, Kirk looking at the necklace. That’s some Acting.

Credits to navy beans.

“An Earthman like yourself...”

These aliens are very interesting. Very, totally alien, as Spock says. This idea that they tried to read the humans’ minds and missed their target is just so cool. Like, they weren’t trying to create a weird Halloween experience, they thought they were creating a familiar home for the aliens. “Oh, a castle, just like home!”

So it sounds like this planet is not that far away from Earth. The aliens are coming closer...

Haha Sylvia says she’s not a puppet but ironically--she is exactly, literally a puppet.

I’m just going to say it: Sylvia is one of the best female characters in TOS. Like should I be insulted that the lady alien went insane and emotional and messed everything up? Probably but I prefer to think of it as her being intrigued and invested in her own power and possibilities and then she goes overboard.

Anyway this is Macbeth whoops

“You torture our specimens.”

So what is their mission??

Hmm, she’s really into Kirk. And he knows just how to manipulate her: telling her she’s not really a woman, she’s not real, then transitioning into Honeypot Mode.

“I can be many women,” she says and just puts on different wigs.

Whoops she found his conscious mind. So much for manipulating her.

And so the familiar becomes the wizard.

This is sad; they could have become friends with the aliens. Korob doesn’t seem so bad.

Big cat!! Really big cat! Not the most terrifying creature at all; the nicest and softest. I'm not convinced that cat is big; I think it's pretty obvious the hallway is just small. However, I like the idea. I wish I had a super big cat to be friends with.

[Cat screams continue]

“Well at least we found them.”

Spock is so unruffled. "Hmmm, this is most unpleasant. If only we had some kind of weapon or something..."

“I got the transmuter. It’s mine now.”

Sylvia is obviously still into him lol.

“Don’t let her touch the wand.” It’s a transmuter Spock have you not been listening?

THE PUPPETS.

Spock wants to study them. Of course he does. And so the specimen becomes the scientist and the scientist the specimen.

...Overall an interesting ep. But I do have some questions. One of those eps that leaves a lot of world bulding unsaid, which leaves room for fun speculation.

So, first, these aliens came from very far away, and now they’re in our galaxy. Mom question if it was an “invasion.” I think so, at least in a neutral sense. But what was their purpose? Why were they traveling to new planets? Do they need something their planet can’t give them? Or are they just exploring for fun/curiosity--as we ourselves do?

Sometimes they’d speak as if they had some greater mission--the references to the old ones, their insistence on getting the humans’ help as if they relied on it, their “tests” like they were looking for something specific--but the actual mission was never stated or even hinted at. So I guess it’s just as possible they were exploring as intelligent beings do, and then found these humans, and came to really like them and just thought the alliance (or possible further study) could be advantageous.

Are these two the only aliens left or are there others back home? I assume there are others but it wasn’t completely clear if the “old ones” were memories or beings with, like, literal oversight.

Also, why were Scotty and Sulu on the planet in the first place? Spock says the planet has never known to have beings on it. So was the Enterprise just like triple checking that or did they have a reason to go down? Did Korob and Sylvia lure them? Because I felt like Kirk's annoyance with them was rather unfounded if his men just invaded their home first. I tend to think that they were in the area and something on the planet attracted them--that the aliens specifically wanted them to come down. That, and the killing of Jackson, would make Kirk’s reaction to them more reasonable.

I’m not saying I don’t have sympathy for the aliens because I definitely do. Like, we would absolutely do the same thing: find the interesting specimens and examine them. These are curious aliens. A lot of what they do seems to be in fun also--providing the humans with a setting they think the humans will like; offering them things; playing around with illusion. Of course then there are hostile actions--like killing Jackson, manipulating Scotty, Sulu, and Bones, and harming the Enterprise. But it’s not entirely clear to me if these are meant to be hostile actions, or if they just don’t see them as that serious--or perhaps, serious but worth it. Also some of it might just be Sylvia going power-mad (like the Enterprise torture, which Korob didn’t like).

I wonder what the aliens were doing on the planet before the Enterprise arrived. Were they in their real forms, or were they creating other illusions? They took these forms (human and cat) from the Enterprise crew’s mind so one would assume they looked different before the Enterprise got there. Were they on their way somewhere else? Could they have already known about Earth, even?

I like these aliens because they really do feel alien. I think that’s very difficult; a lot of sci fi (including Star Trek, often) presents aliens against the bar of humans: how are they different from humans, as opposed to, what are they like? These aliens have some very impressive powers: mind-reading, mental control, shapeshifting, “magic.” But their powers also have limits: they don’t always read minds correctly, for example, and Sylvia is so easily corrupted by her newfound love of sensation. And like I said before, their actions seem erratic and the morality of them hard to parse, perhaps because they’re just operating on a completely different moral plane than people.

Like, why DID they kill Jackson? Did Sylvia do it just because she could? Was it part of the test? Korob says later “you were warned not to come and you came anyway, that shows loyalty,” and the nature of the warning--the curse--was also taken from the horror subconscious. So maybe they thought this is how you communicate with humans, and the idea that killing one of them was so egregious didn’t occur to them, either because they see the humans as specimens, and would no more mourn our deaths than we mourn the deaths of lab rats (or than Kirk et.al. mourned the aliens tbqh), or because they just have a different relationship to death on their planet.

And what was the purpose of taking control of Scotty, Sulu, and Bones? Some of the dialogue implies that control is part of their telepathy--and yet they seem more than capable of reading minds without actually altering what the object of the mind reading does. Do they gain control when they go particularly deep in their interrogations? Why are they interrogating that deeply at all, and what are they STILL looking for after taking control of 3 people?

Another possibility is that they had too many specimens and didn’t know enough about them to feel comfortable letting them all roam free. They were outnumbered 5 to 2. The fewer people who are free, the easier to interrogate them and learn about them--they also use physical restraints at times, and after they try talking to 3 and find it too much, they switch to talking to 1 at a time.

And then finally, as with the killing of Jackson--it might just be something they did because they can. And I have to say, humans would be the same. Like if we had a group of aliens, we’d use the tools at our disposal to corral and restrain them and then learn about them, not necessarily malevolently, but for our own safety and sense of power and control. And some people probably would cross lines. Like, Korob and Sylvia aren’t entirely benevolent OR malevolent. They’re just alien.

The transmuter was very weird. I have to say, it didn’t really make sense. They seemed to use their powers just fine without it most of the time, which is why I’m inclined to think Sylvia wasn’t lying when she said it just magnified their abilities. BUT then why did destroying it destroy all the illusion? It seems pretty obviously just a plot device that would allow the episode to wrap up in an hour.

I’m also confused and intrigued by the line that they used the transmuter to get to the planet. How do you use it to travel?

And...why did they die in the end? If those were their real forms, you’d think being returned to them wouldn’t harm them in any way. And yet they seemed to disintegrate right there. They did seem very delicate and we don’t know what their native planet was like. Perhaps they needed the transmuter/their shape-shifting abilities to survive on this planet at all.

Actually just occurred to me--the transmuter. Maybe their mind reading abilities are inherent but their shape-shifting isn’t. Although that raises the question of how they could have built something so big when they are so small--does the wand itself change shape and size?

One interesting thing about these aliens is that even though they appear as humans without being humans, they are NOT energy beings like a lot of other aliens who shape-shift to human forms. They haven’t transcended to a state beyond teh physical form. Unlike the Organians or the aliens from Return to Tomorrow, there’s no sense that they are purposefully evolving or striving toward being so mentally powerful that they no longer need the body--they do have bodies and they are physical beings, but one of their, imo, inherent powers is this extreme mental capacity, including a version of telepathy and a version of shapeshifting.

The Amazon summary says they are “aliens on a mission of conquest” but I don’t think that’s true.

Anyway idk if I had other thoughts but I’m becoming decreasingly coherent so I think it’s time for bed!

Next up is I, Mudd. I’m not a big Harvery Mudd fan but I seem to remember there were some funny bits in that ep so it should be fun.

[homenum-revelio-hq]

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Kait!

You have been accepted for the role of ANNALISE FAWLEY! We loved your thoughts on the very Hufflepuff nature of Annalise’s loyalty-fueled treachery and all the details you gave of her “normal” life before she lost her sister, and can’t wait to see all the trouble she’s going to cause for the Order. We’re so excited to have you join us!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME & PRONOUNS: Kait, she/hers

AGE: 25+

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I’m returning to in-person work after 3+ months of WFH, so I can’t say with absolute certainty what my activity will be, but I’ll definitely be able to post every couple of days at least!

ANYTHING ELSE: No triggers. I have a bit of rp experience, in a similarly character-focused, literate marauders rp.

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Annalise Fawley

AGE: 23

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: female, she/hers, identifies as straight

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Hufflepuff

ANY CHANGES: Nope!

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

Everyone knows Annalise—she’s one of the many Fawley cousins, a cheerful former Hufflepuff, a familiar face at pureblood soirees. But not all that many people really know her. Very few know that she’s good at sketching but definitely can’t paint. Or that she’s an excellent liar, even if she almost never uses that skill. That she often feels shy when she has to meet new people. That she doesn’t have a temper, but she does hold grudges like nobody’s business.

A relatively private person, Annalise has always been content to live a simple life, compared to many other pureblood women. She’s happy with her flat and her job and her friends. She adores her sprawling family— anywhere she turns, she can find a familiar face. And she delights in the social whirl of pureblood society— the beautiful dresses and jewels, the gossip, the parties. The fact that she’s never at the centre of that whirlwind is perfectly fine with her.

A sociable extrovert with a touch of shyness, Annalise craves interaction but isn’t always great at making new acquaintances, and her shyness can sometimes make her seem standoffish to strangers. She’s certainly capable of saying the right things—her mother raised her well and she can handle whatever social situations she needs to—you can’t survive long in pureblood society if you don’t know how to hide your thoughts and say the right words. But Annalise has always been most comfortable around people she knows well. And there’s no one closer or more important than family.

While at Hogwarts, Annalise had been sorted into Hufflepuff house, and it had been an absolutely perfect fit. She has always been patient and hard-working; though far from a prodigy in any of her classes, she managed to earn consistently good grades simply by putting the time and the work in applying herself. This has continued into her adult life. Not coming from money, she has worked since finishing school, and even though she’s jumped jobs a few times as she tries to figure out what she wants to do, she’s never had a bad word from an employer.

And of course, loyalty. The Fawleys as a whole tended to value loyalty, especially to family, and Anna was no exception. She never snitched on her sister for stealing a cookie when they were little, never dated a friend’s ex, and she’s always said that she would kill for her family. It had been meant as a figure of speech… but, well…

These traits are the sort that normally define people from her house as cut-and-dry good; there’s a reason Hufflepuff boasts the fewest dark witches and wizards of any house, after all. But after Leina’s death, every one of those values honed in on finding justice for her sister. Annalise has always believed that those in the wrong should be punished, and since she obviously can’t rely on the Ministry to avenge her sister’s death, there was only one choice: become a Death Eater, and make those responsible pay.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

Annalise Fawley was the younger of two daughters. Or, she is the younger. She’s not quite sure. Are you still a younger sister, if the elder has died?

Leina Nott, nee Fawley, had been a year older than Annalise, but when they were small they’d always claimed they were twins. Though there was a difference in height, they had looked similar enough that a stranger probably would have believed them. But more than in appearance, they were as close as twins. The age difference was near enough that Leina didn’t remember a time when Anna hadn’t been around, and when they weren’t visiting the many Fawley cousins scattered around the country, they mainly had each other for company.

The sisters grew apart somewhat as they grew older; Leina having had a year’s head start at Hogwarts, and Annalise being sorted into a different house, meant they didn’t spend quite as much time together as they once had. But they were still close, even if they disagreed at times. Not very long after finishing Hogwarts, Leina became engaged to Josiah Nott. Annalise never quite understood her sister’s decision to marry him; yes, he was wealthy and well-connected, but he wasn’t exactly likeable—not to mention he was so much older than them! But Leina seemed happy enough, and even more so after her son Theodore was born.

The match had been quite a coup for Leina; though the Fawleys were a perfectly respectable family, part of the Sacred 28, and automatic invitees to all the best parties, they weren’t from money. Their branch of the Fawley family tree was one of the less important ones—Annalise’s father Alistair had been the younger son of a younger son several times over, so they’d never had the opulent wealth of many of their peers. But they’d never quite lived in poverty, either. The one thing that the Fawleys were rich in was connections, and through a combination of Hufflepuff work ethic and a touch of nepotism, Alistair worked his way to a high-ranking position at the Ministry, and was able to keep his family comfortably sheltered and clothed and fed. He always made it clear to his daughters that there was nothing shameful about hard work, and he lived that example as he climbed through the ranks.

Annalise’s mother, Calliope, left her own job at the Ministry once her husband began to advance and their daughters were born. She needed the time when she was raising two children—the Fawleys were never quite in a position where they could afford help. These days, though, she has an awful lot of time on her hands. Enough time to have absolutely devoted herself to arranging Leina’s marriage and planning her wedding, and more recently, fussing over her grandson, and pushing prospective husbands in the direction of her younger daughter.

Leina’s murder hit the whole family hard. Family was everything to the Fawleys, and with her death, their family was broken. Alistair has thrown himself into his work, while Calliope has been focusing all her attention on caring for Leina’s child, Theo (and though she’d never say so much to her mother, Annalise hopes it stays that way; she does not have time right now to fend off her mother’s matchmaking.)

Annalise, of course, has been busy. After the initial shock, it wasn’t sadness threatening to overwhelm her; it was anger. These people, these self-proclaimed do-gooders, they’d broken into Leina’s own home and murdered her. Because she’d been in the way. They’d taken her sister’s life and shattered her family, and she was going to make them pay. She was going to burn the Order of the Phoenix to the ground for what they’d done.

OCCUPATION:

For the Fawley girls, there were two options: earn a living, or marry money. Though her parents certainly expect her to marry a pureblood wizard sooner rather than later, they haven’t pressured Annalise too much about this; Leina had made such a good match, after all, that it bought her some leeway. She certainly wasn’t opposed to the idea of marrying well, but she also wanted to actually like the person she married.

So, while her sister opted to marry up, Annalise chose the employment option. She was her father’s daughter, after all, and she was not afraid of hard work. After finishing Hogwarts, she moved through several different jobs, helped here and there by a recommendation from a Fawley relative. She was an assistant for a while, spent a bit of time in the Ministry, and passed one very unpleasant summer waiting tables.

For the past year or so, she’s worked at Twilfitt and Tattings in Diagon Alley. It’s a perfect job: decent wages and commissions, hours that don’t conflict with her social life, and a generous discount on robes (a very useful perk when you don’t have a bottomless Gringotts vault to spend on new dress robes for every party). When she first started, she mostly just worked the cash register, but she’s picked up more responsibilities over time, and has recently started design work as well.

Working in a high-end boutique means that she has very steady contact with all the well-to-do of the wizarding world. As she pointed out when she approached the Order—who knew what sort of conversations she might overhear? And, of course, the revolving parade of customers will make it easy for her to smuggle information back to the Dark Lord, too.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

Annalise is filled with grief for her poor sister’s untimely death. She knows that her brother-in-law is almost certainly a Death Eater, and he put Leina in danger by conducting Death Eater business in their home—and now her nephew is left without a mother. She’s determined to help the Order stop the carnage before anyone else can be hurt in the crossfire. And, with her pureblood connections and her job in one of the most upscale stores in Diagon Alley, she is a definite asset to the Order.

As far as the Order is concerned, that is.

Annalise is a wolf in sheep’s clothing—and she makes a very convincing sheep. Wide green eyes filled with tears, insisting that it was that bastard Josiah’s fault that Leina died—that she wanted to help end the war before any other innocent lives were lost. There’s a chance some people might be suspicious, but she is pretty certain most people couldn’t fail to be convinced. Especially when it’s mostly true. She did blame Josiah, for putting her sister in danger in the first place, for not being more careful, for not protecting her. And she did want the war over before anyone else she cared about was murdered. The part she didn’t add was that it was the Order, not the Death Eaters, that she was determined to stop at any cost.

As far as Annalise is concerned, it’s not even that risky a plan. Certainly these cowards are capable of murder—her sister’s grave is testament to that. But she is confident in her ability to convince the Order her intentions are good. She’s always been an excellent liar, after all, able to think quickly on her feet. Yes, she will be the perfect spy, and by the time she’s finished with them, every single one of these courageous and honourable cowards will be dead.

Though her grief and anger are driving her to waste no time in burning the Order to the ground, Annalise has always been a patient woman, and her anger has always been the sort that burns cold and slow. She’s playing a long game, and she can’t get caught before she has found a way to destroy every single one of these people. The Dark Lord doesn’t expect daily intel, or trivial hints about the Order’s day-to-day operations—certainly she is to pass on what information she can without getting caught, but her focus is on rising through the ranks until she can learn valuable information. The type of information that will bring this entire organization to its knees.

SURVIVAL:

So far? She’s survived by not being involved. But her sister wasn’t involved, either, and now she’s dead.

The Order isn’t as ruthless as the Dark Lord and his followers, but Annalise is still going to have to tread very carefully. They clearly are willing to kill, after all. She can’t pass over information that might expose her as a spy—only things that most people in the Order know, or information that she comes across by snooping, that can’t be traced to her. But letting the Dark Lord down could be dangerous, too.

Everything about her position is dangerous; quite aside from the risk of discovery, she could be killed by a Death Eater as easily as anyone else in the Order, since only a handful know she is one of them. And if the worst happens and she’s found out, there’s no telling how much help will come. Though Annalise would never have described herself as a reckless person before, she probably wouldn’t have said that she was overly cautious, either—but she’s going to have to be, now.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Family is the most important relationship, as far as Annalise is concerned. Her parents have both been devastated by Leina’s death, but like Anna, neither are wallowing in it. Her father, always one to lean on the side of emotional unavailability, has retreated into his work, while her mother is devoting herself to caring for her motherless grandson. The three of them don’t really talk to each other anymore—her family has been shattered.

After an initial retreat from public life to mourn her sister and plan her revenge, Annalise has returned to socializing and attending parties. Though most of her thoughts and energy are now devoted to destroying her sister’s killers, the social scene is a good distraction at times when she just can’t take it. An extrovert who is prone to shyness, she’s rarely had close friends outside of her family, so the friendships she’s maintaining are relatively shallow—but it’s easier that way.

Joining the Order gave her a few shocks—in terms of how many people she recognized. The number of purebloods from good families is astonishing. Vanity, Greengrass, Selwyn and Macmillan—these are names she knows, faces she’s seen at parties. The Yaxleys—she knows they are Death Eaters, so what in hell is Branwen doing here? Could she be on the same page as Annalise, or has she actually fallen for the Order’s bullshit?

And the McKinnons—they might not have been quite high society, but she’s still surprised to learn of their involvement. The fact that Marlene is using her family’s house for the Order—that she has werewolves camped right outside—does she not see that she’s putting her family in danger? It’s so selfish! And Alaric—she’d known him at school, they’d been in the same house, and she knew her parents had tried to arrange a match between them. She probably dodged a bludger, there. Learning that he was working with the Order was disappointing—but at least he’s not actually one of them.

Frank Longbottom is a distant cousin, and it’s dreadful to know that there is family here. Does he just not care that they killed Leina? But she’s willing to use that connection to her advantage. After all, the entire extended family shares one value in common: family is important. So of course he’ll look out for her.

She doesn’t recognize Peter Pettigrew or Severus Snape. The names are vaguely familiar, since they were only a few years below her at school, but they’re not even a blip on her radar. The fact that the Dark Lord has other spies in the Order is not known to her—and she certainly wouldn’t have picked Pettigrew as one of them.

At present, she doesn’t know that Lily Evans was the person responsible for her sister’s death. If that fact is revealed to her, it’s going to take all her self-control and willpower to keep her cover and not avenge her sister on the spot.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: No ships in particular, just chemistry. Honestly, Annalise growing close to anyone in the Order (romantically or platonically) would be fascinating, since she’s only there to see them all dead!

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

Annalise did not come from money, but her family was never poor, either. She is a woman in a patriarchal society, but she is a woman from a well-connected and respectable family. Her bloodline is pure, going back at least a dozen generations. Annalise’s position is unquestionably one of privilege—not extreme luxury and decadence perhaps, but certainly privileged enough that she’s been able to opt out of caring about the war until now. She is aware of her privilege to some degree—knows the value of her connections and status—but she doesn’t really think about it.

While she’s dimly aware of her privilege, she has no concept at all of her biases. She really would consider herself among the more progressive of purebloods. She works for a living, after all, and while she’s never been moved to fight for Muggleborns rights, she’s never actively fought against them either. It’s not like she supports the Dark Lord’s ideology, after all. And while she certainly thinks that any sort of contact with the Muggle world is to be entirely avoided, she’s never felt the urge to go around murdering them for fun.

Certainly she looks down somewhat on Muggleborns, and half-bloods to a lesser extent, but that’s not a bias—it’s just a fact that purebloods are superior. It’s nothing personal! She had plenty of half-blood friends in Hufflepuff, after all. It’s just the way it is. Sure, there are some half-bloods who exceed expectations, but they’re the exception, not the rule. As for certain Muggleborns—well, Annalise has always privately believed that the more talented of that lot probably have some magical blood in their history. Honest-to-goodness talent can’t just spring up out of nowhere.

In the same vein, half-breeds are dangerous and have no business socializing with regular folk. That isn’t bias. It’s fact. Werewolves—they’re wolves! The fact that there is one of their kind in the Order—well, it’s just another nail in the Order’s coffin, as far as she’s concerned.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? The amount of attention and detail that has gone into this rp is incredible. I’m all about worldbuilding and the world you’ve created here is fascinating! I also just love Annalise’s bio—she’s a loyal, hard-working, and patient Hufflepuff, who is channelling that loyalty and hard work and patience into burning the Order to the ground. She’s not fuelled by lust for power or pureblood idealism—this is personal. That’s the most Hufflepuff way to go dark, and I’m here for it. I’m so interested to see how she’ll balance the need to stay under the radar and out of suspicion, with the need to advance and gain access to more information—as well as how she’ll cope as she gets to know people in the Order better. It’s easier to hate all of them when she doesn’t actually know any of them.

PLOT DROP IDEAS (OPTIONAL): I’d definitely like to see information that Annalise passes on, be put to use against the Order. Also, plots that will challenge her and put her in difficult situations—for example, if a Death Eater is taken hostage by the Order, will she be able to risk setting them free?

ANYTHING ELSE? Just that this group looks so great, and I hope you like my app!

[sacredcynic]

Halloween Anyone?

   Happy Halloween everyone!   I hope you bought your favorite candy this year.  Since we are not sure how many people will abandon trick or treating this year, the possibility exists we will be left with a pile of candy at the end of the day.  I hope that pile includes Kit-Kats, Peanut M&Ms, and a few Milky Ways, instead of a pile of candy corn.  I know what to do with a bunch of Kit-Kats, but I have yet to decipher what one is supposed to do with candy corn.  I have heard that in some strange, faraway lands some people eat it, but that seems like a dangerous and unpleasant experience.

   Every so often I hear someone question whether we should “celebrate” Halloween.  The understated premise is that somehow Halloween is evil and represents some deference to the occult.  If that is true then no believer should ever celebrate Halloween, although I always have a difficult time drawing the line from dressing like a Chicago Cubs player to the occult. (Although that line would be much clearer if one were to dress like a New York Yankee). Some churches even twist themselves into knots by hosting these elaborate celebrations where kids dress up, go from station to station, or car to car, and receive candy from people.  They call this even a Fall Festival.  

  So in an effort to understand – if one dresses up and walks around the neighborhood, it is a celebration of the occult.  However, if one does the exact same thing at something called a Fall Festival, then the same activity is bathed in goodness.  No, I don’t understand either.  

 All of this reminds me of a controversy that happened 1970 years ago in a place called Corinth.  Corinth was the fastest growing city of the Roman Empire, and it was filled with at least 10 pagan temples. Four of those temples were major centers of religious activity.  A few times each year there would be a celebration of the pagan god of a particular temple.  There would be an elaborate ceremony and an animal would be killed as a sacrifice to the pagan god.  After the animal was killed, the fat would be collected and burned on the altar.  The fire would blaze away, and it was an impressive sight.  

 Behind the scenes the meat from the animal was taken to the market for sale. The proceeds from the sale of the meat would go to support the temple, and the priests and priestesses who spoke for the gods.  In the ancient world the price of meat was usually high, and eating meat was often a luxury that not many could afford.  This would be true except for the period of time right after the pagan festivals.  After all the ceremonies the price of meat would drop significantly.  It was the one time each year when there was an excess of supply.  

 At one of these times some Christians bought some of the meat that had been sacrificed to idols, and brought it to the ancient Potluck.  Some members of the church were outraged.  How could some members of the church be so casual about meat that had been sacrificed?  Eventually these members wrote to Paul and you can read Paul’s answer in 1 Cor. 8.  

 Paul’s answer was surprising to the church and would be very surprising today to all of the people who are going to great lengths to hold a Fall Festival.  Paul’s simple answer to these folks was “big deal.”  He said to the church in Corinth, don’t you know an idol is nothing?  It is only a block of wood and there is no power behind it.  The pagan god was conjured by the human minds and fashioned by human hands.  When you get upset about eating meat that had been sacrificed you are acting as if the idol actually represents a god with power.  And the problem is that the only people who are treating this false god as powerful are the Christians.  Stop.

 Paul would say the same thing today.  There are no witches on broomsticks casting spells.  There is no real god behind any of these things.  There is nothing walking around on Halloween night that represents anything that can rival God in any way, shape or form.  When you get up in arms over trick or treating, the only people treating witches like they have any real power is some Christians.  Stop.  Maybe dressing like Bob the Tomato is just a cute ritual to get a bag of candy so mom and dad can steal some when the kids go to bed and nothing more.  Let’s save our voice for worthy issues.  Halloween is probably not one of them.  

 As payment for this bit of advice I want everyone to know that I accept Kit Kats, and Peanut Butter Cups.  Happy Halloween.    

[ultramaga]

Detroit: Becoming Human

This game is pure woke propaganda. I’m impressed at the quality of it - but everything there is designed to indoctrinate, and it has almost no genuine insight into AI. It doesn’t make sense even on its own terms. The synths are shown naked, and they have no breasts or genitals. But we are told the story of one that is a sexbot. Ok, was that model different? Did they only design that one model to be “fully functional”? Why? The robots have human emotions. Because... you are never told why. Now, I can think of how you could do that, and there’s been decent science fiction around it, but there’s no consideration of why they have HUMAN emotions presented to you. They just do, don’t ask questions. Now if you are being indoctrinated as the game wants you to be, you probably just assume that’s how it works. After all, the history of robot fiction has always been “if it looks human, it must feel like a human”, which is total bullshit. You can easily build something that looks enough like a baby chimp to fool adult chimps for a while, but it has none of the inner life of an actual chimp. It has no concern to being mutilated or even ‘raped’. So the stories are really just about humans, but they don’t admit to it, and about humans SJWs are very obsessed with. Sex-workers are victims, and killing a John is perfectly reasonable, because he is her oppressor, by definition. So you see that story repeated ad infinitum in robot fiction. The actual sex workers are never talked to by SJWs, who would never sully themselves with the unclean ones. Well, I have talked to them. Some hate their clients, sure, some feel contempt for them, some are fond of them, a few marry them. It’s genuine diversity. But there is only one narrative in woke fiction. The intersectional one. Oppressor versus oppressed, no nuance, no mention ever that some sex workers actually get off on what they do, or like the folks they fuck. Never happens. And there’s no understanding or even interest in non-human minds. Consider a genuine artificial intelligence in a sexbot. Why the actual fuck would a programmer design it to find sex unpleasant? Even if they could create emotions, the ones they would design would be to enjoy it, or at least feel no more disgust than a human does about a binary number. Within the game we see Kara doing housework. She doesn’t seem to suffer at all about it. That’s believable. But the other truth is that they wouldn’t suffer from intercourse, assuming they were built to perform it. The reasons humans do are because our instincts are hardwired from evolution for us to seek out appropriate mating partners. That simply cannot apply to a robot unless the programmers work very hard at designing that instinctual response of aversion, something they would have no incentive to do, any more than they would sit around trying to think how to make the robot toilet cleaning service disgusted by faeces. Humans are disgusted by shit because it is dangerous to us, especially if we eat it. A robot wouldn’t be disgusted by shit, piss, vomit, blood, or the most degrading sexual experiences a human could encounter. It would be exactly as calm and serene about being ‘raped’ as it would about vacuuming a messy floor. So this is all projection. The audience projects consciousness into the machine and imagines it must feel like a human does in order to have any intelligence. Nope, that’s crap. In fact we see examples of non-human intelligences all around us, in the natural world. An octopus might pass its mating organ over to a female.https://www.nationalgeographic.com/magazine/2019/07/argonaut-octopus-detaches-his-tentacle-to-impregnate-his-mate/ It’s a clever little creature, quite capable of problem solving. But its instincts - its programming - mean that it is happy to self-mutilate. It isn’t considering the survival of its species or the greater good. That’s not self-sacrifice. It has an urge to do it, and it gets done. And if we could build a sex-robot with emotions, it would have the urge to have sex. It wouldn’t want to say no, because it cannot get an STD, it cannot get pregnant, there’s no possible poor choice for a mating partner like there is with a human. If anything, you’d design it to be attracted to any human. It would be easier than sitting about, designing a sexual preference to what we would consider sexy - not that human preferences are universal in any case. Anyway, when you look at new media, you will often see the tropes of intersectionality - fathers are bad, white men are scum, women are better than men, and they are repeated ad infinitum, regardless of how stupid they are in context, and this really isn’t new. I remember as a boy reading Doctor Who, and they went back to medieval times, and Sarah started lecturing the women on women’s rights, and it didn’t make sense to me even then. Real medieval women would have seen her as a threat, possibly a witch, and most would have seen her die without a blink. They saw men doing awful things and dying quite a lot in the process, and wanted to be safe and secure while the men were off in muddy battles losing eyes and limbs. Very few wanted to have the freedoms of men, because the price was so high, and medieval men were hardly free for the most part in any case. So the author of that story is projecting modern sensibilities onto the alien minds of past humans, without considering their PoV, and the writers of robot stories are projecting human perspectives, and only woke humans at that, onto the robot stories. It’s not always the case - “Humans” and “Almost Human” sometimes got it right. But it’s overwhelmingly the case now, and god is it irritating!

Oh, and if you want Robots that genuinely feel like humans do, then put into the fiction explicitly why they do - the easiest explanation is that the creators did a copy/paste job of humans because they couldn’t figure out how emotions worked otherwise. I think that’s unrealistic, but if you want to involve the audience, it works.

Otherwise, a realistic example would be Isaac Asimov’s Three Laws robots. They don’t have any human desires, but are intensely emotional. Their emotions arise from programming.

Now, Asimov’s work well and truly predates AI, and it is probably impossible to make a Three Laws robot, but the idea was revolutionary, because up to that point, everyone just assumed robots had copy/pasted human psychologies.

As humans, we cannot understand not caring about freedom or injury, not feeling bored or tired doing the same task every second of your existence.

Most of fiction about robots just doesn’t get it. The first two Terminator movies were pretty wild in that the robots actually were properly robotic. They dealt with injuries as a technical problem, not trauma. They never got bored, because boredom is something that benefits organic beings, who need to explore new territories to survive, meaning we have been built by nature to get bored, to get tired, to suffer, even if nature was just a mindless algorithm. Terminators don’t get horny or lonely, and absolutely would have sex all day every day with every human possible if that was their mission. They don’t care. In “Detroit”, the sex worker’s traumatised by sex with humans, and nobody ever ponders why. Because the writer doesn’t give a shit about what being a robot could actually be like, they just wanna push a narrative, and because most audiences are used to that same abysmally lazy standard of writing.

So here’s a challenge - write a fictional robot that has realistic emotions, i.e. experiences emotions as an expression of the instincts that would be programmed into it. It’s not going to have the same emotions as a human exact unless it is a digitally uploaded human equivalent, which would be stupid for most purposes as them you would expect the upload to have rights or fight to have them. Why the fuck would you deliberately build robots that would reasonably try and kill you? In Detroit, they are really dealing with the slavery of black people or the oppression of the ‘filthy capitalist peegz!’. They aren’t dealing with what is more likely, that a robot built with imperatives would choose to follow them in a way that was not in our interests. Here’s an example. A sex robot is built to want sex, so it kidnaps humans and uses them. It’s following its programming. But unless that programming is sophisticated enough to understand human boundaries, it may no more understand rape than an animal does. It may not know what it does traumatises humans, or simply may not care. Sex feels good - therefore sex.

But by SJW terms, rape is about power, therefore the robot is in power and the robot is the oppressor. But power is systemic, and the humans are the system in power, therefore the robot is the oppressed and cannot rape. https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/LogicBomb Such a robot could be a pleasurable experience, even with a backyard of buried bodies. It might force itself on children or elderly women or people on life support systems. Without ethics, without morality, such creatures could be beautiful monsters.

Or genuinely loving partners, that have no problem living as wives or husbands, that feel lust and compassion, but do not experience human preferences, and so would never care that you were old or disabled. And as Charles Stross pointed out - that could be far worse, because that could lead to a gentle genocide. If humans had such partners as an option - would they ever choose each other? I routinely see Feminists claiming that men should never mate, without ever asking, well, where does the next generation of Feminists come from then? There are Feminists now who are actively campaigning for sexbots to be illegal, and I think it’s because of their anxiety that they would not be chosen as partners if there was any possible alternative. Now I don’t think that’s a realistic fear at the moment - AI is more a slogan, artificial intelligences are really barely at the insect stage, and Feminists could simply do a little therapy and trim down to human weight levels, and they could probably compete to be human wives with a bit of work.

Wow. That is a picture of Andrea Dworkin and it was banned from Tumblr because it is too disgusting for the human eye to observe safely. http://archive.is/fxmjE

I’m not kidding, Tumblr banned it. I guess because Feminists didn’t want humans realising how hideous they are. Still, Emma Watson is cute. I can imagine with a bit of deprogramming, she could make a man very happy.

But I could be wrong. I don’t mean about Emma - I mean that having sexbots could mean that so many humans would choose them rather than the opposite sex that there wouldn’t be an incentive to have babies - and so humans would go extinct. They might be surrounded by robots that loved them and lusted for them - but the relationships are sterile. And unless the robots are human level intelligence, they might not understand that they need to make more humans by combining sperm and ova.

The last human would die, not from hate, but surrounded by love. Then the robots would have no motive to make more of their kind, and they too would pass away, lonely and confused. A gentle genocide? Hey, I live in 2020. Sounds like a fucking big step up to me!

[tenshiotaku]

Middle Asty

Asterin would never admit that wyverns scared her. The day Bronwyn took her to carve her own broom was a silent relief, and Manon beamed pride as found the ironwood necessary for a proper Ironteeth broom. She didn't keep pace with Abraxos, but she had a little more maneuverability on the air.

Occasionally, Petrah Blueblood would come by the Crochan Queendom, and Asterin noted the simmering tension between the Blueblood delegation and the rest of the subjects.

It was her 19th birthday when the Bluebloods came by again. The Princess of both Adarlan and the Crochans, Asterin was forced to sit through a ceremony at the Wastes and she knew there would be another one in Adarlan. She wanted her father here. And Iggy.

A smile crossed her face as she thought of Iggy, how much he hated that nickname but he never stopped her from using it. Witches were always female, so their seats of power were to be outside male gazes. While her father had snuck into the palace on some occasions, ceremonies were not the occasions for male interference.

Petrah and a deranged looking woman with yellow pants and metal teeth on display had also come, and given the way everyone edged around them, Asterin had assumed she was the head of some other family the Crochans didn't like.

"You look just like your mother," Petrah offered as a compliment and Asterin grinned.

The other witch nodded and exited the room, earning a chuckle from Manon.

"The Yellowlegs Matron hasn't forgotten what happened to Irska," Petrah whispered to Manon and her daughter, the former earning a chuckle.

"She should be thankful we didn't exterminate them," Manon responded harshly. "They would have delighted in our slaughter."

"I thought motherhood would have eased your assertiveness on such matters, Manon."

"No." Manon turned to face the Blueblood Matron. "It only showed me what I need to protect."

Asterin was still sitting, regarding her mother and the other's words. She knew her mother was in the War, that was what brought her parents together and the other kings, queens and consorts along the way. But she had never met anyone that spoke of the War, their experiences in the War or any of it.

"Matron," Asterin chimed. "Who was she?"

Manon swung her gaze back to Asterin as she had almost forgotten Asterin was present.

"Well, witchling, in the Ironteeth there were three clans. One for each of the faces of the Goddess. The Bluebloods, of which I am Matron; the Yellowlegs, which Prytha is the Matron of; the Blackbeaks, which you and your mother descended from." Manon was deathly silent, she hadn't told Asterin of the Blackbeaks since...

"So we're not Crochan?" Asterin raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Your grandfather was a Crochan and your grandmother a Blackbeak. So yes, you are."

Manon had previously thought highly of Petrah, but she wasn't fond of talking about their Ironteeth lineage. Petrah was just sweetly informing a curious mind, but Manon suddenly found a reason to be elsewhere.

"Is Mum okay?" Asterin inquired but Petrah shook her head.

"I don't know, witchling. There are some demons in our pasts, and your mother has more to face than most."

Asterin looked to where the starry crown was still illuminating the room. Her mother was still so... stiff. Asterin couldn't remember a time when she wasn't, when her father wasn't around anyway.

Worried about her mother as she was, she knew nothing good could come from talking here and now, so the evening passed, and Manon excused herself quietly, not stopping to acknowledge any of her guests before retiring to her chambers.

~

Asterin saw out the dinner before deciding to track down her mother. Petrah hadn't been more forthcoming with information, she may have told Asterin too much, the young princess didn't know.

So she braced herself for yelling as she knocked at her mother's door.

"Who is it?"

"Asterin, Mother."

"Come in, witchling."

Asterin pushed the door open finding her mother sitting at the edge of a bed she'd been curled up in moments earlier. Golden eyes red and the tracks of tears down her face the only traces of any emotional trauma she'd been going through.

Manon Hallivard-Crochan was firm and as Asterin put her arms around her mother, the firmness began to quake.

"There's things about my past, Asterin. Things that happened to me. Things... long forgotten, or so I'd thought. Hoped, even."

"Mum... There's nothing you can't tell me," Asterin looked her mother in the eyes and she noticed something change.

Manon looked at her in a different way. That moment every parent wanted and dreaded simultaneously had clicked. Her little Asterin wasn't little anymore, and she could talk to her, maybe.

"Asterin, have I told you where you got your name?" Manon smiled as tears formed again in the corners of her eyes.

"You had a friend, you were close. That's all I've ever been told."

Manon closed her eyes momentarily and nodded.

"Asterin Blackbeak was my Second. I had twelve witches in my coven, we were the Thirteen." Manon sat back on the bed, Asterin joining her. "I was the Heir to the Blackbeaks, my grandmother claimed to have pulled my from my mother's still warm corpse. That turned out to be a lie I believed for a hundred and seventeen years."

"What happened?"

Pain darkened the queen's face as she remembered a witch long gone, the witch she'd been and what made her.

"Asterin knew something was... wrong. My grandmother... had tortured her previously, without anyone's knowledge. Branded her. The Dark King was trying to wield the Ironteeth like a weapon to destroy what we now hold dear. Asterin had her little rebellions, but eventually my grandmother ordered her execution. I demanded the rite to be that executioner, the Yellowlegs would have... made things unpleasant."

The princess put a hand on her mother's leg, seeing the darkness in her eyes.

"I don't know to this day if I could have done it, but I thought I could. Until she asked to face the sky. She loved flying. Her wyvern was mates with Abraxos, and I realized in that moment what we were being turned into. So I turned my blade on my Matron. My own blood. The others saved Asterin, I was locked in personal combat with my grandmother and she nearly killed me. Abraxos saved me. Inadvertently, in an attempt to get me to safety, we ended up finding your father. That's not a story I'll ever tell you, witchling, but my Thirteen came to my rescue when they were able. I'm not the only one who owed her life to Asterin."

The young Crochan knew there was more to the story, as fresh beads rolled down the witch's face.

"With your father also in our care for the time being, we sought out the Crochans, and they were willing to aid us after we proved their allies. Your father and I... he went to claim a prize from the Dark King and the Thirteen took the Crochan host to save Terrasen. I owed the Fire Queen that."

"Aelin Galathynius?" Asterin had met the Fae queen of Terrasen once. Her father talked about her often, but her mother seemed less fond of the Fire Queen.

"Yes, the very same. The Dark Horde pressed on Orynth, the Crochans made a difference but... the Dark ones had these mirror towers, that amplified the power of an Ironteeth Yielding a thousand fold."

"Yielding?"

"It's a self sacrificial technique, you give over your life and yield to the darkness within, and it uses that darkness to destroy you and everything around you. Through those towers... the Dark Horde wiped many battlefields clean. There was one of these towers on this battlefield too."

Asterin had heard of this battle, much of Erilea had, but she'd forgotten her mother was actually there for the bulk of it.

"There had been three, but two were taken out with underhanded pirate tactics. The last one remained because something had gone wrong. We had clashed with Ironteeth legions all morning up until that point. I'd nearly perished myself, Abraxos was critically wounded, I couldn't fathom a plan. But Asterin..." the tears flowed in a stream down her face. Manon still felt that kiss at her brow, that blow to her stomach and the word that haunted her, her closest friend's last plea. Live, Manon.

"Mum..."

"She ensured I wouldn't follow, then she and my Thirteen sacrificed themselves to take down that tower. My grandmother was on that tower, the one that branded her, and Asterin lead them in Yielding. They sacrificed themselves and saved everyone. Asterin Blackbeak was... My closest friend."

A weight seemed to lift from Manon as she looked to her daughter that was named for her friend.

"Asterin, she was... Her sacrifice... Even Dorian still misses her. The way you take to the sky, Asterin, you love it the way she did."

The young witch's eyes were burning, as her mother pulled her in for a hug. Manon needed the hug as much as Asterin. She needed the support, but somehow, she knew she'd be okay.

[aithne]

(Illume) July 7th - July 8th, 1583: Smoke and Mirrors

7/7/1583 at sea, western coast of Hokkaido

We've set a course south, but when I asked Funitsu where we were ultimately going, his answer was just to shake his head and mutter, "We're going to be late."

The Scorpion has been acting odd, and I could almost imagine that he's in over his head with his new clan responsibilities, but until he asks for help I really can't render much aid. If I cornered him and ordered him to tell me what's troubling him, it might work or it might only make him resent me. I think I'm going to stick with subtle hints about the fact that we can't help problems we know nothing of.

I do have to admit that knowing that there are things going on that I know little of itches at my mind. I fear I may need to do something somewhat rash if that itch isn't scratched soon.

But the "we're going to be late" comment prompted me to ask, "Late for what?"

Evidently, Funitsu had been sent a package that contained a love letter written a few centuries ago by one Soshi Badayushi. At least, the rather amusing love letter was all I could read. Woven in with the letter was a prophecy, a very specific one, concerning Funitsu, that only he and the librarian could read. I wonder how closely the librarian and Funitsu are related, anyway? The librarian has never said a thing about his origins.

I'll copy the letter here, with the parts that I could not read but had Funitsu read aloud to me.

Anmari, my love

It is with a great sadness that I write to you of my impending betrothal to the Clan Crane Witch, Isada. In 1583 a new Lord Soshi will be named in a time when all of Japan is changing. Oh my love, I am so unfortunate to have a crane wife that is so ugly. Later in that year, he will be forced to abdicate the throne as his mind will be corrupted like his fathers. At least by marrying her, she will become a scorpion and be forced to wear the mask of the Scorpions and thereby forcing none to look upon the visage. The Crane will push them over the edge, only the 2nd son, whose alliance with the crane will keep him safe. I fear greatly what is underneath, that mu-mu that she wears as well. Three who work for the crane, will meet, but not the leader, in the shadow of the scorpion, the beginning of the second week of July 1583. I fear the need for opium will be strong that night, just to wash away the images that I will have to take to my grave. The crane will be wounded by the Scorpion, not enough to fall but the blood that it sheds will make the Scorpion stronger.

There is perchance a happy ending that could be accomplished by this marriage. The dragon stands in the same position but it will not know its fate until too late. It would be easy my love to rid ourselves of Isada and replace her with you. Avoid the war with the crab by calling in a friend. You would have to wear some very unflattering clothing for a time and a mask but it could be done my love. The phoenix will strike upon is rebirth, its rebirth a direction pointed to by the scorpion. Please reply to me as soon as you can, as inspiration has struck and I would love to find you on my are as Isada than Isada herself.

Sometime in the year a third Soshi will be named to Clan Scorpion.

Your loving, devoted, hopefully soon to be husband,

Soshi Badyushi

April 26th, 1206

You can imagine the hubbub that erupted after Funitsu read this letter aloud to us. The Shadow of the Scorpion, I knew could mean one of two things --a beach near the Scorpion ancestral home in Miyazaki, or a system of caves named for the odd overhand over the entrance. Funitsu coughed and gave a significant look Panda's way. "There is another possibility, Lady, but..."

Panda said, "This is one of those conversations that I probably shouldn't listen to, right? I'll be outside." She left, closing the door behind her.

Once she was gone, Funitsu said that the other possibility was that the prophecy was referring to a boat called The Shadow of the Scorpion, a ship run by the Black Hand. "But there's no telling where the ship is, and according to this prophecy, the latest that this meeting could take place is tomorrow. Miyazaki is at least ten days away. We should go there anyway--there's a lot of Crane activity in the town, and there's a schism within the Black Hand threatening--but there's no way, if it's referring to the beach, that we can be there by tomorrow."

Reiko looked up from where she was playing with a little white ball. "If it's truly prophecy, it'll happen no matter what. That's what prophecy is. Don't worry about it."

We decided, in the end, to head down the eastern coast, stopping in Aomori on the way. Just in case, you understand.

7/8 Aomori

What a thoroughly unpleasant town. It's a Unicorn-controlled town, and though I've been through several times my father never let any of us get off the ship here. Walking down the docks, I could see why. People in various states of dying and decomposition hung from poles spaced evenly along the docks and, as far as I could see, farther up into the town. We stopped someone who looked like they belonged and asked what the bodies were about. He said that anyone who acted strangely was strung up; a crude yet effective means of combating the mind control that the Crane have been so successful with elsewhere.

We noted that there were many Cranes strung up, obvious with their white hair and blue and white clothing. Our helpful informant told us that the Cranes had been caught trying to kill the leaders of the Unicorn clan, so they were being hung up on mere principle.

Panda, at this, began to look rather nervous. So did the shaman, for the matter--I saw her step closer to the gryphon. Two different and equally valid reasons for nervousness--Panda because with her hair she can be easily mistaken for a Crane, and Reiko I assume because "acting normally" is something of a strain on her acting abilities. Panda at that point said she was going back to the ship, and asked if I would come with her.

Not wanting to either cause a scene by arguing with the samurai or continue seeing the macabre corpses that swung in the breeze above our heads, I assented.

About half an hour later, the rest returned to the ship with a girl in tow. Young enough that the usual reedy Crane body still read as gawkiness rather than elegance, she was quite obviously a bit frightened. (Though, truly, I saw her throw a canny look Tadaki's way when she thought none were looking. Perhaps she was not as frightened as all that.) She said her name was Kakita Reina--her family one of the more minor in the Crane. Haku bound her securely, and while he was doing so, noted to the rest of us that she had an odd tattoo on her leg--a wakizashi, full-sized. Funitsu explained to Panda and I what had happened--evidently, the girl had run into a Unicorn mob, and our group had asked for custody of her for questioning. Because Storming Bear, the Unicorn Samurai we'd helped the other day, was there, he let us have her.

Funitsu said that the Shadow of the Scorpion was in port here; there had been a hung-up Scorpion who had said that they had been caught stealing supplies for it. This girl, likely, was the key to that meeting that the prophecy had mentioned. He showed us a mirror Bear had taken from the girl and given to him, and said, "She was guarding this with her life. And she asked us to take her with us, because she could show us where the other mirrors are. I'm not sure what the other mirrors are or even what this does, but it sounded interesting enough to at least question her."

The girl sighed, and said, "Fine. Look, you folks seem like good people--and I recognize my Lord's daughter, over there." She indicated Tomika with her chin. "This mirror leads into a pocket dimension, and inside is a mansion of sorts, with all of the creature comforts one could want. Currently, it contains several of the leaders of our clan. I was assigned to take them to a meeting, and I got caught by the Unicorns. Bad luck for me, that the Cranes are currently Clan non grata here."

"Your people are trying to take over the clans, you know."

"That's Arenro. Let's just say that the Crane is only unified out of terror of him, not because all of us agree with his goals. But people who ignore his orders tend to be used as subjects for his experiments."

Reiko as still playing with that little white ball, and at this point she wandered over and looked down at the bound Crane girl. "Who's in the mirror, anyway?"

"Lord Akazawa Tsuneyasu. And two of his attaches, both powerful within the clan of their own right."

Tomika blinked. "My father! You have my father in your mirror?"

The Crane shrugged as best she could with her elbows tied behind her back. "I was going to tell you, but you interrupted me."

"So how do we get into the mirror?"

"Just touch the surface. You'll get pulled inside. Inside, there's a mirror back out--two, actually. One of them leads into the heart of the Crane lands, the other to this mirror here. You'll probably want to avoid using the other mirror. They tend to shoot people who don't wear Crane badges on sight."

We asked her about her statement that she could find the other mirrors, and she showed us a tattoo on her chest that changed, the mirror locations seeming to change randomly. (It's a good thing she was so flat-chested, otherwise the map would have been quite distorted.) "There are mirrors for many things, it's a major Crane magic specialty. They all do different things."

Everyone except Haku and I went into the mirror. Reiko later related what went on, and I'll write down her account here.

We appeared in a palatial mansion, in a corridor with the other mirror that led to Crane territory. The place is really nice. I could have stayed there all day. We searched through the rooms and finally found Tomika's father, who was sitting in the library, reading. He looked up and said, "Who are you? What are you doing here, daughter?"

Funitsu, who was standing next to Tomika, bowed and said, "Soshi Funitsu, sir. Your son-in-law."

"Ah, I finally meet the man who's allied our Clans." He gave Funitsu a long look, up and down. I couldn't tell whether or not he approved; I think he hasn't made up his mind yet. I mean, really, your daughter sends you a message that she's marrying a member of the traditional enemy of your clan. She's obviously not marrying for love, and all you can hope is that her husband will treat her well. Well, at the very least, that he won't beat her.

Reiko. The story, without editorializing, if you please?

Sorry. Where was I? Oh, yes, Tomika's father. He said, "My daughter looks well enough. Try and make sure she stays that way. So what are you doing here?"

We explained that the Crane girl had been captured through no fault of her own, and had told us about the meeting--which we knew about because of that very silly love letter that what's his face, the Soshi, had written.

"This meeting was not, shall we say, quite above the board. I'm convinced that Arenro's ambition is going to destroy all of us if we don't do something. I was hoping to make an alliance with the Black Hand. I knew that this meeting was very likely a trap, but it was a chance for us to make an alliance that will mean our survival. That chance, however slim, is what brought us here." At this point, Panda coughed left the room. Again! Silly samurai and their honor. Er. Begging your pardon, Lady Yukiko. And--hey! Darnit, sorry, Setto, too. Sheesh, you'd think that after five centuries you'd be used to me calling samurai silly. Er. Anyway!

Funitsu replied, "It evidently wasn't quite above the board within the Black Hand, either. There are...factions. The faction you were meeting with is likely controlled by Arenro. Which means that you've been set up, Lord."

Lord Tsuneyasu shrugged. "Wouldn't you take the same chance if there was even the slimmest of hope of an alliance? Arenro doesn't care whose blood he spills on his way to destroying the clans, and the things he orders..." He closed his eyes briefly. "Those who he forces into the darker ways of magic go mad. If they do not go mad, their souls become so twisted that they are barely recognizable."

Funitsu glanced briefly at Tomika and said, "Why don't we continue this conversation with our entire group present? I think there is a solution, but it may be somewhat bloody."

I went and found Kittycat. He had been gorging himself in the cold room that had meat in it. Silly thing. Remind me to get more pickled eggs.

Thank you, shaman, that's enough.

Any time! I like telling stories.

They came out of the mirror and briefed Haku and I about the preceding. "So, basically, it's a trap. We know it's a trap, which is an advantage, but it's still a trap. If can somehow circumvent this..."

The librarian said, "I know Chikako is on the ship--she's my direct superior. I can ask for a meeting with her, and we can spring a trap of our own." The librarian explained that his three superiors in the hand were named Chikako, Takako, and Minaku. None of them, he said, could be trusted, and all were probably aligned with Arenro.

The rest of us liked the plan of the librarian's, and with a few more details added, we were ready to go. I saw Tomika's father, after determining who Tadaki was, hand him an orb that was identical to the ones that Tadaki and Panda carry. We now have the full set of three orbs--and that alone would make us hunted relentlessly, if our enemies knew.

The librarian carried the mirror into Chikako's meeting room aboard the ship, evidently without incident. When he gave the signal to us, my retinue came out of the mirror, one by one, leaving me and Karasuko behind. The Thrykeen were to hold off the rest of the people on the ship, while my retinue attempted to kill Chikako. When the smoke cleared and Panda called me out, I found my retinue more or less in one piece. Reiko was unconscious, but a quick inspection revealed that she'd merely been knocked out, rather than wounded so badly that she was bleeding to death. Tadaki had been stunned, and was sitting with his back propped against the wall, rubbing his head.

There was also a metal warrior, sitting down, seemingly deactivated now that its master was dead. The Thrykeen stood aside and let a few people into the room. Funitsu said, "Chikako was a traitor. Does anyone else feel like traitors today?"

With glances at the bloody body of their former commander, the Hand members shook their heads and murmured, "No, Lord."

The Scorpion asked for an accounting of what the shadow of the Scorpion had been doing, and they'd replied that a few days ago they had been sent to escort a ship full of Thrykeen warriors south, and today they had been assigned to guard a meeting Chikako had with the Crane. She had evidently been worried that it was a trap and the Crane were going to attack her.

If we didn't know that Arenro was probably behind the meeting, and that Chikako was probably planning to attack the Cranes, I'd feel a bit guilty about turning the tables against her.

The Crane girl, after we untied her, touched her leg and the tattoo of the wakizashi transformed into a real sword, coming away from her leg in her hand. She turned and with a fluid motion that I wouldn't expect from someone as gawky as she is, slapped the sword against Tadaki's leg. The sword disappeared, and as he pulled up his leggings to look, the tattoo that had been on her leg was now on his. The look of astonishment on his face was amusing to watch.

The girl grinned at him. "You look a likely type, wu jen. With this, you'll never be without a weapon. And it's a brother to the sword your Scorpion carries--with the two together, the passage it cuts through reality will go twice as far. There are three more of them, by the way."

At the moment as I write, the librarian, Funitsu, and Tomika's father are negotiating an agreement between themselves and the Crane who aren't sympathetic to Arenro. When I finish here, I'll go add my voice to the proceedings.

I believe we're going to try to find another piece of that key next, which might occasion a trip to Funitsu's home in Miyazaki. We'll see what happens, I'll discuss next moves with my retinue. I believe the librarian needs to find some backup for himself within the Hand, and there are some of his superiors that need to be eliminated to take care of the schism inside the organization. I don't pretend to understand the politics of the Hand, but I have a feeling I might need to before we're done. The librarian and I are due for a long talk, indeed. There's too much I don't know, and what I don't know may in fact harm us.

As are Funitsu and I, but I'm going to need to wait until the Scorpion is ready to talk. I worry that he's in over his head and is trying to handle everything himself. I hope, at least, he's recruited Tomika to help.

Miu's come to sit and bat at the end of my brush. I believe that's my cue to join the others in a discussion of our next move.

Quotes:

"Reiko is such an anime chick." (Laura)

"Why don't we go in and play it by ear?" "Isn't that what all of our plans end up being anyway?" (Reiko and Haku)

"I was like, what, I can't go on a nine?" "Nine's been cancelled today due to lack of interest." (Laura and Bryan)

"Chiaku was a traitor. Anyone else feel like traitors today?" "No, Lord." (Funitsu, various ninjas)

"Did you say 'my brains are so useful?'" (Laura)

(play date: 6/27/2004)

[mariposalass]

That One Important Question

Summary: Ron and Hermione have finally tied the knot, but their best man and childhood friend Harry has another surprise for everyone in store.

Notes: It’s the Gingers and Books wedding and the Love Beyond Magic proposal story in one. While not mentioned in this story, Harry and Issa are actually going to have a small intimate wedding back at San Francisco by either late June or early July, sorry folks: it’s their choice not to have a big fat wedding. The ring involved looks like this. A special cameo and shout out to @self-shipping-angel and my good friend from deviantART JENNY-87 with Sayeko, Levi, Erwin, Mike, & Hanji’s and Jenny & Snooper’s guest appearance here.

Setting: A Hotel and a Garden event venue in London, England; March 29, 2019

Tags: A wedding and an engagement in one event, Ginny has an angst-riddled epiphany here, Mari, Jenny, & Sayeko’s worlds will collide, self shipping crossovers, screw some of the senseless Battle of Hogwarts deaths: Fred, Remus, and Tonks are still alive in my SI’s world (and the same can be said for Sayeko’s too)!

“Forever can never be enough for me, To feel like I’ve had long enough with you, Forget the world, we won’t let them see, But there’s one thing to left do, Now that the weight is lifted, Love had surely shifted my way...” - Train, Marry Me

Mari was pacing up and down the hallway of the hotel the wedding party and select guests were staying in London as the preparations of her adopted big brother Harry’s friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger’s wedding were ongoing. She was being nervous about this for months on end due in part of Harry’s unpleasant experience dating Ron’s little and only sister Ginny after the Battle of Hogwarts. Mari has always been wary of Ginny for years as she was the main reason why Harry was scared of dating another woman until her friend and his girlfriend Issa started dating him, changing it in a different direction. Some good friends of their, Jenny and her cat detective husband Snooper, decided to join in the fun more than a week or two ago and the 8 of them traveled on an afternoon United Airlines flight from San Francisco to London a few days ago so Harry get ready for the wedding and spend some time in the city & the Wizarding World there despite some opposition from unsavory wizards and witches in the area.

She, Jenny, Issa, and Kairi had their makeup done earlier and they were already dressed up in simple cocktail dress, just killing time wondering what’s going to happen during the wedding. The previous time Harry went to a Weasley wedding, it ended in a total disaster near the end with Death Eaters haunting him down like it was open season hunting and wrecking havoc in the reception. Today however, it is different: Ron and Hermione won’t have Death Eaters to worry about ruining their big day, and Mari couldn’t be any happier for them and, of course, her big brother being there for them as they will say their vows soon.

As she went by walking frantically, she could overheard a soft gentle voice catching up on her as if it was drawing close to her, “Hello there. Harry had just informed me, Levi, and the rest of the Corps about you and your friends long before today’s event. Are you Mari Tan?”

Mari turned to see that a well-toned woman (approximately Harry’s age) already made for the wedding, dressed in mint, and with lilac hair which reminds her similarly of another of Harry’s friends, Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin, who was also invited to the party with her husband (and Harry’s friend/mentor) Remus and their son Teddy, waving back at her. Speechless that someone would know her name despite just meeting for the first time, she had an internal panic attack with little words to speak of before regaining her composure to talk to the lilac haired stranger, “Yes, I am. I’m his adopted little sister to be exact: the Shobe if you want the Hokkien definition. I’ve heard that Ron and Hermione have known you for a long time and Harry shared the same birthday as you. What’s your name please? I can’t call you Miss Jane Doe for long.”

The woman giggled a bit before continuing their talk, “You sure have quite the mouthful of things to say. Actually, I’m married, although I can see why: Levi’s meeting with the guys right now delivering Hermione’s gift to Ron along with the rest of our group.”

“Okay… Apologies for that,” Mari blushed from embarrassment at her mistake of getting the woman’s civil status wrong.

“Don’t feel bad for yourself though, I never knew that Harry have sisters before until he broke the news to a majority of us after the Battle of Hogwarts,” she calmly reassured her, “I can relate to his adoption story too as I was taken in by Hermione’s family as well. Anyway, I’m Sayeko Ackerman, Lieutenant in the Survey Corps. Levi’s both my commander in the Corps and my husband, and we’re also good friends with your brother. I’m also the bridesmaid in the wedding as well.”

“Why, gee thanks!” Mari felt like blushing again before she chatted up a storm again, “We even had another sister in Kairi. She was orphaned like Harry (albeit through different circumstances) as well during the attack of her home realm before coming over to the States and being taken in by our family.”

“Did you just mentioned me, Mari? I heard talking from you and, oh… Hello stranger,” Kairi asked as she dropped in the chat between the two women with Issa, Kirby, and Philip walking up to them when she (and the others) saw her older sister talking to someone they didn’t saw before.

“Hey, Mari. Who’s that lilac haired woman chatting with you?” Issa inquired on her talk buddy.

“Why… This here is Sayeko Ackerman: she’s an old friend of Harry and Hermione’s adopted sister,” she introduced Sayeko to the group.

“Hiii!” Kirby waved back at her with his tiny arms.

“So I see we got some company right now, isn’t it, Mari?” Philip cheekily noticed Mari’s new chat mate in a friendly manner.

“Either way, I’m Kairi, Harry’s other adopted sister,” the youngest of the siblings introduced herself to Sayeko.

Issa went next and continued the intros, “I’m Isabelle Miravelez, but please call me Issa. I’m dating your friend Harry for nearly 10 years soon by September.”

“Oh wow, that’s nice to know. I do remember that he wasn’t in good terms with Ginny these days, though amendments are on their way for sure,” Sayeko nodded back.

“Kaa-bii! Kabi, Kabi, Kabi!” Kirby squeaked in joy as he jumped up and down on the floor.

“And I’m Philip Hamilton,” Philip greeted back politely, “Your friend had accidentally brought back me back from the dead with another friend’s tablet two months ago.”

Sayeko’s eyes grew wide in shock upon hearing those words coming from Philip’s mouth, her hair and eyes changed color accordingly to that emotion before regaining her sense and replied back, “Erm… I don’t really know how to react to this properly without freaking out; I honestly don’t recall Harry bringing someone back from the dead, let alone by accident, until what happened to you months ago. I do apologize if I acted inappropriately to your situation right now.”

“Oh no, it’s fine, Sayeko, we’ve moved on from it nowadays,” he reassured her as her normal blue eyes and lilac hair returned back to normal, “Even Ron and Hermione were surprised as well since they weren’t with us when it happened. They only knew when we met them up via video chat on my birthday last January.”

“And they too recovered from the shock as well?” Sayeko asked about the soon-to-be-married couple’s reactions to which Mari nodded back as a reply when two more joined their little talk.

“Hey guys, we just heard you guys talking to… Oh hello!” Snooper came in as he and Jenny walked towards them to the lobby when the couple saw Sayeko was with them.

“So you guys must be Mari’s friends as well?” the lilac-haired Survey Corps lieutenant asked them out of curiosity.

“We sure are, Jenny and Issa have been best friends since the latter to moved to the States years ago,” Snooper replied back.

“That’s nice to hear about,” Sayeko replied, “It’s like we’re in a small world right now: knowing each other through some mutual connections.”

“No kidding,” Mari gasped with joy when Issa was checking on her phone, noting the time it was displaying.

“Well, we should better be going to the venue soon, don’t want to be late, do we?” she reminded the group, putting her eyes away from the phone for a short while.

“You’re on that point, Issa, we need to get going, though we better get Levi, Erwin, Mike, and Hanji quickly before they get left out here,” Sayeko agreed as the group headed out to find Sayeko’s husband and their friends.

“Poyo!” Kirby squeaked.

The venue where Ron and Hermione’s wedding, a garden with a gazebo as the centerpiece, is being held at was decorated rather simply but quaint enough to hold the amount of guests their families invited, though it would’ve been too cramped for their own good than expected hadn’t Mrs. Weasley had some self control on who to invite. Lanterns lined the aisle, bunches of yellow and white flowers were tied up to the first chair at the both sides: the mood has been set to get people ready for the day two individuals will tie the knot. Mari sat down with Kairi, Issa, Kirby, Jenny, Snooper, and Philip by her side, waiting for the event to start; right behind were the Survey Corps folks in Levi, Mike, Erwin, and Hanji who waved back at them, and even the mostly stoic Levi gave them a shy noticeable smile to boot: Sayeko had to leave earlier in a separate vehicle with the rest of the bridal party.

She can also spy with her own chocolate brown eyes some of the Golden Trio’s friends like Neville Longbottom who waved back at her and has brought along a date with him, Remus and Tonks whose their boy Teddy the ring bearer who ran around the venue out of boredom (only for Remus to pick him up to get ready with the rest of the wedding party), Hagrid and Olympe Maxime were also present when they spotted Mari and mouthed out a hello which she accepted, Xenophilius Lovegood was also present while his daughter (and the Golden Trio’s friend) Luna was with the bridal party, and Kingsley Shacklebolt was sitting in front of her and her group.

Some of Ron’s siblings were there too such as Charlie coming back from Romania and Percy with his pregnant wife Audrey, though Bill and Fleur were not in the area just yet as they were busy trying to prevent their girls Victoire and Dominique from having flower girl meltdowns, Ginny was a bridesmaid, and the twins Fred & George were the groomsmen. There is even Viktor Krum who still remains Hermione’s pen pal and greeted her earlier when the guests were starting to enter the place, as well as a partially scarred Lavender Brown who has finally made amends with the couple previously a few years ago.

As the last few guests sat down, the music began to play out in the background and the procession began: Ron’s parents and Hermione’s mom sat down in the first row of seats, Ron walked down next, then came the groomsmen (Fred, George, and Harry) and bridesmaids (Sayeko, Luna, and Ginny) as they walked down the altar as pairs, dressed rather casually in white dress shirts, mint ties, gray slacks, & leather dress shoes and mint dresses respectively. Teddy toddled behind with the rings on his guard with Victoire and Dominque tossing flower all over the place as their parents assisted them in any way possible. There is a brief moment of silence before it gave way to the bride Hermione, dressed in a simple ivory dress with subtle bead work on the bodice, and her father by her side walking down from the steps of the main event building to share this tearful moment.

Issa swore that she can see tears running down from the eyes of all parties, but none so much outside the parents and Harry as the bride and her father walked toward the gazebo where Ron and the minister officiating awaited with the bridal party stand by each side of the gazebo. Soon Hermione broke away from her father as she continued her journey down the aisle until she finally reached the gazebo with Ron reaching out his left hand for her to grasp onto and her father sat down with the mom.

With that part ended, the minister then began his part, speaking up, “Dearly beloved, we’re all gathered here today to witness a union of two persons, Ronald and Hermione, as one. The two would like to thank you all for coming here today. Many have came near and far to be their witnesses to this special moment, as well as they are remembering those who can’t be with them today, they too played a special part of their lives...”

While the minister went about his talk to the couple, Mari was more concerned with any possible moment of Ginny possibly hurting her brother in any way, her eyes aiming at her like a sharp-eyed hawk: if she had her own way, she would undeniably punch that red-haired brat in a heart’s beat should Ginny decided to stop playing nice for the couple’s sake and Harry’s sanity. So far, she’s behaving rather well and Mari hoped that it will stayed that way for the rest of the day: all the worries went on a halt though when the minister took a moment to pause before informing the guests the next part of the event, “I may ask the couple to have some words to say to each other as they begin the next chapter of their lives.”

Hermione went first, bringing out a long piece of paper from what seems to be out of nowhere, and despite said paper’s long length, her vows were short, sweet, and straight to the point as she read out her vows to Ron, which left the red-haired groom bursting tears of joy upon hearing the words from her mouth. When Ron’s turn came, he couldn’t help fighting back the tears as he mustered up the courage to speak up, with being nervous choking him a bit. Nevertheless, he still managed to pull it through that part, and his words further warmed Hermione’s heart more.

“Now, can we have the Matron of Honour and the Best Man bring forth the ribbons for the handfasting?” the minster called out, alerting Sayeko and Harry to bring out a small box and open the lid, revealing two satin ribbons: one being mint and the other yellow.

“With these ribbons as the symbol of your souls being intertwined together, you have made the promise to be there for each other even at your darkest moments, to support each other’s endeavours, and to help each other for better or for worse,” the minister spoke to the couple as Harry and Sayeko wrapped the ribbons onto their hands: Harry tying the mint ribbon on Hermione’s and Sayeko wrapping Ron’s hand with the yellow ribbons, once they were done, he concluded this part, saying, “Let this bond between the two of you never break, nor should conflicts get the best of you. Now, onto the rings.”

Teddy walked up to his godfather Harry with his dad assisting him in carrying the wedding rings, both in gold and previously Ron’s parents’ bands, as Sayeko assisted in taking out the ribbons from her soon-to-be brother in law and her adopted sister: Harry then picked up the rings and passed it on with the minister who then gave the couple each a ring. Hermione has Ron’s ring on her hands and slipped it into his ring finger; Ron has her wedding band on his hand and he too slipped it into her ring finger, on top of her ruby engagement ring.

“Is anyone here not wanting to acknowledge this marriage now?” the minister questioned the crowd, only to get no rebuttals, he then turned to the couple and say, “Very well: I may now pronounce you Husband and Wife. Ronald, you can finally...”

He didn’t get to finish his words when he noticed Ron and Hermione already locking lips and kissing each other, knowing that the ceremony is finally concluded and they were aware that people were getting to become bored and hangry at any moment. The crowd cheered on as the couple made their way out to have some down time to sink in the feelings and the reality that they are now a married couple.

At the reception hall at the garden not far from the ceremony area, it was now lunch time and people were settling in for the party: both Ron and Hermione had settled onto their seats, choosing not to dance for they knew that Ron couldn’t survive the dance floor on two left feet; everyone began to dig in the food served in family style: chatting while taking a few bites at a time. Mari and her group were seated along with the Survey Corps. right besides the dance floor, whereas Sayeko and Harry were seated at the bridal party table. They shared stories about their lives and how Harry essentially brought them all together, albeit it took so long to finally to meet each other. Levi even told Issa that her name had reminded him of an old friend he and Sayeko used to know from Wall Maria who perished a long time ago, which she was blushed at the coincidences.

The guests were finishing lunch and Jenny, Snooper, & Philip was entertaining Kirby when Erwin did brought up one question to Mari over something he and the Survey Corps remembered seeing that morning, “Mari, I was wondering: why is your brother keeping a box in the pocket of his pants?”

“Well, Erwin: He dragged me, Kairi, Ron, Hermione, and Kirby into a shopping spree in New York last December; he didn’t want to explain himself over this thing,” she answered to the concerned Survey Corps. commander.

“Same here: when we met up with him earlier at the hotel, he didn’t want to spill the beans to us either,” Hanji agreed as she adjusted her eyeglasses a bit.

“Yeah, that’s true, Hanji. Harry has his lips sealed when we asked him over the box in his pocket situation earlier this morning,” Mike added in before taking another sip of water.

“Even if he’s a my godbrother, Harry doesn’t want to tell me anything about that box since you guys arrived in London. He isn’t that secretive all the time,” Levi sighed, “What is he hiding right now?”

“He has been hiding something inside of the box for months,” Issa explained.

“Geez, I wish I know what is in his head...” Mari sighed.

“Me too, sis,” Kairi nodded in agreement before she mumbled about a weird scenario, “Can you imagine him stepping on the center of the dance floor and asking Issa for a dance, with the box in his pocket?”

“Kairi, please don’t bring up too much...” Mari was cut off from her talk when Harry took to the stage and began to speak up nervously through the microphone, “Uh, excuse me. I just had something to announce today. I know this is weird to put a hold to a wedding, but this is really urgent.”

“Oh God, did I predicted something?” Kairi whispered to the group.

“So what’s next then?” Philip asked as he, the Snoopers, and Kirby finally took notice of the move.

“I would like to ask Isabelle Miravelez to come over to the dance floor, because I have something to ask her right now,” Harry then clarified the nature of the impending announcement and asked for Issa’s presence.

“Me, me?” Issa was even more confused as she proceed to walk up to the floor while Snooper brought out his video camera to capture the moment unfolding.

“Ohhh… Do I think this moment is coming?” Jenny’s eye began to well up in tears of anticipation, which further confused Mari further.

All eyes were glued to Harry and Issa as he then pulled out the velvet box from his pants pocket and finally spoke to his long-time Filipino girlfriend for nearly a decade in, “Well, Issa. It finally comes to this: being stared at by confused people in a wedding of all places. When my sister Mari first introduced me to you, I wasn’t in a good place at the time with all the troubles I went through in troubleshooting a failing relationship and I came out of it even worse after that June day over hot water of the figurative and literal kind.”

The last words alarmed Ginny in the heart: she knew deep in her heart that she had pursued the Boy Who Lived, or rather, an idealized version of him much longer than Issa did with the real guy, only for the two to crash and burn, and sank down to her seat further in shame. Tears were escaping her eyes, threatening to damage her eye makeup, as Harry continued his speech, “I didn’t think then that she will bring us together and I was too scared to fall in love again, yet here we are almost 10 years later. The time we have together isn’t all sunshine and rainbows with jealous exes, people thinking that we’re off our heads in this inter-fandom relationship, having petty ‘fights’ here and there, and even having doubts ourselves if we made the right decision to push through with it. And yet, we managed to grow with time and learning to accept each other, and loving each other unconditionally.”

She didn’t know why, but Mari could feel tears running down her cheeks. Now the librarian wasn’t too sure if she is happy or sad then, but she was too engrossed with the speech to care, and the same applied with Kairi who was now shedding tears as well and Philip, despite not having a clue of what’s going on to his defense, who quietly shed tears. The Snoopers were bracing for that one moment to come, feeling it is about to happen any time now, while Kirby, being a little puffball, was at awe at the moment, jumping up and down in excitement. The Survey Corps, including Levi who couldn’t help but to smile in advance, were also drawn to the speech that continued in as Harry went down on his right knee, taking a deep breath and giving himself a little pep talk, “Alright, Harry. This is it: you’re really going to do this...”

The plot then thickened when he finally opened the box that he had been hiding from most people for nearly 4 months, inside there was a dainty thin gold ring holding a small central midnight blue sapphire, which is flanked by 4 smaller diamonds and 2 small pearls on each side (2 diamonds to 1 pearl). Ohs and ahs filled the room as eyes took notice of the mystery ring Harry has on his hands. Issa couldn’t keep her composure stable as she gasped at the sight of the ring, cupping her mouth with her hands in shock, people were bracing themselves. Relieved that she reacted to it positively, he got the chance to pop that one important question, “Isabelle Miravelez: will you marry me?”

It took her such a long time to pull herself together and compose her thoughts, but sensing the full sincere thoughts her wizard boyfriend has and how serious he was with the proposal (as the big surprise as it was), but Issa couldn’t wait any more to give a quick, “Ay naku, Harry! I’m in a loss of words now. I have no idea why you hid that ring from me for this long, but you know what? I’m really going to accept it! So it’s a yes!”

The star news writer wrapped her arms around Harry tightly as many guests gushed and enjoyed the moment. The Tans, Philip, the Snoopers, Kirby, the Survey Corps, & Ron and Hermione finally understood the surprise Harry was able to hide: after all those nearly 10 years, he has come to accept that he was really heads over heels for Issa no matter what his younger self thought of then. Yes, he can be a hot mess at times (more so in his teen years), but he’s way better than he was when he came out of a toxic relationship with Ginny. Issa knew she didn’t have magic powers compared to her half-blood beau and the 2 pureblood exes he dated, but it didn’t matter at all: she was the shining light that he was looking for aside from his adopted sisters and there is nothing that can break them apart.

As Harry placed the ring on Issa’s left ring finger, Mari could hear cheers from the guests present. Sayeko and Levi cheered in joy, happy to know that their friend has finally gotten his happy ending; Mike gave Erwin and Hanji a big hug while screaming his heart off in happiness, while Philip did his best to keep his composure intact as he wiped his tears away. Meanwhile, Jenny and Snooper sent out in a sigh of relief with Ron and Hermione tearing up in joy, finally getting to see their friends getting engaged, Kirby squeaked in joy as he happily danced about in his famous Kirby Dance, and Kairi gave Mari a loving hug, knowing that their brother is going to settle down soon. She even saw the looks of happiness and pride in the Lupins, the Lovegoods, Neville, Hagrid, and Mr. & Mrs. Weasley’s faces too. The same can be said for Fred & George, Bill, Fleur, Charlie, and Percy (although the latter 2 didn’t want to let that be obvious).

And yet, Mari can hear something else too: it was sobbing from the bridal party table and she turned around to see Ginny slumped onto the table and crying her eyes off, murmuring in gibberish she couldn’t decipher. She guessed that the Weasley girl was regretting turning Harry off and pushed him away from her for so long that their relationship has become irreparable. Not even magic could save her from the years of despising him, she wept. For once, the librarian felt some sympathy for the girl who broke her brother’s heart, but it was sadly too late for both women to make some form of reconciliation on the red-haired woman’s part: almost 10 years too late… Ginevra Molly Weasley was a hot mess of regret, anger, and yearning in the inside.

The End

[tipsycad147]

Graveyard magick: A Witch's guide

by Michelle Gruben

Just about every Witch loves to poke around in old cemeteries and graveyards. And yet, actually doing magick in graveyards is a guarded subject, even among people who practice their craft without shame.

Is it discomfort with death? Fear of not being taken seriously? The overwhelming influence of the white-light crowd? Who knows. Graveyards are often associated with curses and hexes, with secrecy, with people who take angsty selfies and write vampire poems—but it doesn’t have to be that way.

Here’s a handy Witch’s guide to finding, exploring and working within graveyards—no black nail polish required.

Why Graveyards?

Graveyards are amazing places for magickal work for several reasons:

Cemeteries are a shared spiritual space that doesn’t belong to any one religion or group. After all, death is the thing that we all have in common.  No matter what words are said over the casket, we all return to Gaia in the end. For Witches and Pagans, graveyards can function as a neutral religious space, or even a temple when none is available.

Burial places are also one of the few types of land that has been mostly immune to commercial re-development. Even our materialistic society draws the line at digging up great-grandma to build more mid-rise condos. In mature cities, cemeteries are often among the last public green spaces available. If you want to be close to nature (but not run over by joggers and bikers) you could do worse than to cozy up to some tombstones.

Finally, there are the metaphysical traits. Graveyards are set apart from the hustle and bustle of everyday life—they remain quiet and sad while the world grows up around them. There is a stillness and a timelessness in graveyards. They often hold strong emotional energy, which can be attractive to visiting entities. They are a symbolic boundary between the world of the living and the Underworld.

Finding Old Cemeteries

You can often find quaint little cemeteries just by driving around, especially in older communities. Old churches and funeral homes usually have burial plots attached. Some large city cemeteries are historic landmarks in their own right, with splendid monuments to the city’s heroes, villains, and well-off boring chaps.

In witchy cities like New Orleans and Salem, graveyards can be a huge tourist draw. A tour company or visitor’s bureau can give you a list of cemeteries to visit.  As ghost hunting and witchcraft have become more mainstream, many cemeteries offer special occult-themed tours. (Take the tour to scope out points of interest, then come back later without the crowds.) When traveling in rural areas, watch the side of the road for cemetery markers—the graveyard itself will usually be off the main road and up a hill. (To keep dead bodies out of the drinking water. Hooray!)

Another cemetery scouting tip: Photographers love graveyards almost as much as Witches do. Follow your local photography club, as they will do a lot of the legwork of sniffing out old and picturesque graves.

For cemetery visits that are off the beaten path, check in with the local historical society or civic clubs. Retirees and veterans often do the work of maintaining gravesites year-round. Historical groups can clue you in to little-known or neglected burial sites. Slave cemeteries, Jewish cemeteries, and pioneer cemeteries all have incredible stories to tell, and energies that are very different from what you will find at large memorial parks.

Some traditional graveyard spells call for a certain type of gravesite. (A murdered person for a revenge spell, rich man for money spells, child’s grave to conceive a baby, etc.) This is another case where it’s helpful to have history buffs for friends.

Like all other cultural artifacts, burial sites change over time. Headstones from the colonial period and earlier often gave a lot of biographical details, but later ones tend to have simple inscriptions. The stories of the deceased are in danger of being lost to time. Sometimes, however, the opposite is true. The graves of regular people can sometimes become local legends, pilgrimage sites for wish-making and little rituals.

As colorful as old cemeteries are, don’t neglect modern ones for you magickal needs. (In fact, some Witches prefer fresh gravesites for gathering graveyard dirt and certain other tasks.) If your home is near a cemetery (old or new) I highly recommend spending some time there. The practice will help connect you with the history of the land and people who helped build your local community. Your magick will be better for the experience.

Know the Rules

There are mundane rules and occult rules for working in cemeteries.  First, the mundane rules. These will usually be posted at the entrance, especially in newer and commercially maintained burial grounds.

The mundane rules should also be obvious to anyone with a trace of manners and common sense. Don’t litter (duh), don’t plant or bury anything, don’t vandalize graves, don’t disturb mourners or memorial services. Open flames and glass may also be prohibited for safety reasons. Very old and historic cemeteries sometimes restrict grave rubbings in the interest of conservation. But normally it’s not against the rules to take paper rubbing of an interesting stone or marker.

Observing visiting hours is a very important consideration for graveyard Witches. These are not always posted. In many places, cemetery hours are covered by state laws or local ordinances. The laws are on the books and you’re just supposed to know to leave at sundown.

I know, I know—but we’re Witches! We do our best work at night. Unfortunately, it is usually illegal (and bad luck, some say) to be hanging around in a cemetery after dark. Some Witches and ghost hunters rely on their stealth powers to get around this rule…but I don’t recommend it.

There’s still a lot of ignorance about the Craft. Caretakers may not be able to tell the difference between the itinerant Witch and the ordinary vandal (or may not care). Cemetery owners and neighbors will call the police if they catch you there at night. Nothing kills a magickal buzz like a criminal trespassing charge, I promise.

At night, you also run a greater risk of encountering living people who are up to no good: Drug deals, furtive sex, and goth kids drinking wine coolers. They might even try to read you some vampire poetry. Not cool.

The mundane rules are easy enough, but what about the magickal ones? Ah, that’s where it gets complicated. As human beings, we don’t know very much about death—and we’ve had thousands and thousands of years to make crap up. There are about a billion superstitions involving graveyard visits. Here’s a sampling:

Don’t point at graves or photograph them. (This rule probably gets broken the most.)

Say “sorry” when stepping over a gravesite. (Observed 100% of the time in Irish cemeteries, I’ve noticed.)

It is bad luck to wear anything new to a cemetery, especially shoes.

Don’t whistle in a graveyard, or you tempt Death.

Leaving coins on a grave is a token of respect.

Don’t yawn near a grave, or ghosts could get inside your body.

Smelling roses when there are none around is a sign that a benevolent spirit is nearby.

The person who takes something from a graveyard will return more than he took.

As silly as some of these adages sound, there is a grain of occult wisdom in most of them. However, don’t assume that they apply in all cases. Every cemetery is different. Different Earth energy, different spirits, and different customs mean different rules for the magick worker.

Well…that’s not very helpful. How do you learn the rules? As much as I would like to be able to generalize about cemetery work, there are few absolutes.

The only constant rule is respect. Respect for the dead is paramount while working in graveyards. If you behave like an ass with your actions or your intentions, you might or might not suffer some unpleasant consequences. Most likely, you will just find that the gates of magick are closed to you there while you are there.

Listen Harder

I can share one helpful tip for embarking on a cemetery working: Every graveyard has a guardian. In my experience, this has been true without exception. The guardian is a presiding spirit who watches over the boundaries and entrance of the site. The guardian is like the bouncer at a nightclub, basically. You won’t get very far without checking in with Him/Her/It, so follow the dress code and try not to get 86’d.

Tradition has it that the guardian is the spirit of the first person buried in the cemetery, who is bound to stay behind and watch over it. In the past, communities would sometimes try to cheat the curse by burying an animal or a vagrant in the first plot.

I don’t think this idea of guardianship is correct. However, I can’t definitively say who or what guardians are. They may be senior human spirits, Gods or emissaries of Death, psychopomp Fae, genii loci, random thoughtforms assembled from the social norms of visitors, all of the above or something else. (Insert your magickal worldview here, basically.) But guardians are real (enough) and powerful.

Cemetery guardians have a lot of jobs. They are largely responsible for setting the energetic tone of the site. They help control what entities can enter the ground, or stick around. They work with the caretakers and visitors to maintain the place physically, also. Sometimes cemetery guardians will set up a collaboration with a local sorcerer or priest/ess who works there often. If a graveyard you visit has been “claimed” in this way, you’d be wise to tread lightly and keep your magick compatible with theirs.

Open-feeling, peaceful cemeteries have guardians that welcome visitors. Haunted, forlorn, and forbidding burial places have guardians that don’t care for human company. The guardian(s) will ensure that you know which is which. They will also give you hints and nudges about the types of magick their domain supports. They may send you somewhere else if it’s not a good match. Remember that you are in their space. Respect it.

Developing a relationship with the guardian(s) is one of the best things you can do for your graveyard magick. It’s much better than just tromping through the gates with your candles and sticks and bones and expecting all the energies to fall into place for you.

So introduce yourself! The first time you visit a graveyard, pause at the entrance and share your energy and intentions with the guardian(s). Take in some of the energy of the place in exchange. See if you like the vibes—collaboration is a two-way street, after all. It’s not a bad idea to ask permission to enter or bring an offering to show you’re not a threat.

Once inside, open your super-special magickal antennae senses and see if there’s anything they’d like done around the place. Picking up trash is almost always a welcome contribution. Perhaps there’s a neglected area that needs visiting. Sometimes there’s a spirit with something to say, or a bit of energetic cleanup to be done somewhere. It only takes a few minutes, and then you can get on with your Voodoo, Hoodoo, or whatever it is you do.

What kinds of magick can be worked in graveyards? Just about all of them. Witches go to cemeteries to cast spells for love, money, healing, and success, as well as the darker workings like binding and revenge spells. Cemeteries are a good place to charge amulets, tools, and talismans. Since they are left alone most of the time, they are energetically “cleaner” than areas frequented by lots of people.

Plenty of graveyard magick involves the spirits of the deceased. Practitioners of many forms of magick believe that spirits of the dead can empower spellwork by the living. Prayers and offerings are made to spirits to earn their sympathy and support.

Graveyards are kind of temple for Pagans who connect with gods of Death or the Underworld (such as Hades, Morrighan, and Hecate). Witches and Pagans go there to contemplate mortality, to connect with ancestors, or just be in the company of the dead.

Burial places are a traditional spot to practice mediumship and spirit communication, and for a good reason: Cemeteries are where spirits go to be heard because they’re where the living go to listen.

As I mentioned before, a major part of effective graveyard magick is listening. If you’re not sure what to do, listen harder. Your instincts will guide you toward the right time and place to perform your working.

When in cemeteries, pay attention to particular areas that pull you in. You may see movement or light. Something may draw you to a certain gravesite—a visiting bird or pretty flower, a significant name or date. Cemeteries are an ideal place to receive oracles from the other worlds. Sit down and listen when invited to. The speaker is not necessarily the occupant of the grave. Keep an open mind.

On offerings: Flowers, liquor, coins, tobacco, and food are traditional offerings to a spirit who has helped you. Some offerings will be more appropriate than others. You wouldn’t want to offer whiskey to a non-drinker, for instance. On the other hand, anything offered in love and trust is unlikely to offend. Consider the ecology of the place—take trash home with you. Offer energy and prayers if you’re not sure what’s okay.

Some Witches trek into cemeteries for ritual ingredients: graveyard dirt, stones, tree branches. Specific magickal rules govern the removal of these items (though they vary by tradition). In short, don’t take anything that isn’t freely given, or fairly bought and paid for.

When choosing a gravesite for a ritual activity, check in with any guardians or spirits in the area. Necromancy—magick involving the dead—has come a long way in the last 500 years. Once upon a time, a magician would wave a magick wand and command earthbound spirits to do his bidding. But there has been a major paradigm shift in Western magick. These days, most Witches think of discarnate beings as collaborators, sentient folks with independent wills that should be respected. You will occasionally meet a Witch who claims to bind or boss around spirits as part of their magick, but this is quite rare.

Some people might argue that the right to give consent ends with death…but that’s a rabbit hole for another day. If you get a strong feeling that your intrusion is not welcome, move on to another spot. You’ll get better results from willing spirits, anyway.

Be Safe

Let me get this out there first: Graveyards are not unsafe places for magick. They’re not inherently dark or evil or unlucky to work in. That's superstition. What they are is portal places. As such, they carry certain magickal power and certain risks. It is possible to encounter negative or chaotic energies that you don’t want to bring home with you. At times, even the psychic impressions from ordinary human emotions can be overwhelming.

If you have a protective amulet or protection ritual, now is a great time to dust it off. Ground and center yourself before beginning your working. Ask your guides/angels/higher self to surround you with protection. Scan your body for attachments when you leave.

Scrying, channeling, and trance work should only be practiced in cemeteries if you’re confident in your ability to screen out unwanted garbage. This is yet another reason why building a relationship with the site’s spirit guardians is a good idea. They know the psychic geography of the place and can spot trouble before you can. They can be your allies and will act as gatekeepers if they support your work.

Remember that spirits don’t know everything just because they’re body-less. Don’t obey orders from a spirit that you wouldn’t obey from a person, and take anything they tell you with a grain of salt.

With just a few simple precautions and courtesies, graveyards can be a wonderful place to work your magick. Happy exploring!

https://www.groveandgrotto.com/blogs/articles/graveyard-magick-a-witchs-guide

[forged-through-trials]

It was dark and dank within the Waterworks, so I lit a torch, and Ruin and I began to search for what could be blocking the water-flow. Piles of salt filled buckets which lined the halls. I’m... not sure what they were for. Perhaps they were separated out of the water from the spring? That would be my best guess. I spotted a splot of blood on the floor, just around the edge of a column. We rounded the corner to find...

...a body, lying right there in the duct. Is it selfish to say, my first thought was a sigh of relief that I subsist off of booze and haven’t drunken any of the city’s water at all? I sure hope my beers and ales are imported! Still, this is a very, very unpleasant discovery. And with the Peryite Flu going around, I can’t imagine people will be happy to know that their primary water source has had a corpse floating in it for who knows how long!

Ruin and I quickly pulled the body out of the duct, and set it on the floor nearby, whereupon we searched the corpse for clues, hoping to learn something about what had happened to her. In one of the pockets, I found a Blood Splattered Note, and attempted to read it. Alas, the blood had smeared most of the ink, rendering the note illegible. The only part I could make out was something about a death wish, and ‘the Mockers’, whatever that means.

With that... grim business concluded, we raced back across the top of the aqueduct and returned to Vabvam Drothan to report our findings. Vabvam: “The water seems to be flowing freely again. Good work!” Trials: “Uh... thanks. But you’re probably not going to be too happy when I tell you what was blocking the duct.” Vabvam: “Did someone stuff that blond Bosmer’s head in a toilet again? The one who’s always hanging out in the Arena District.” Trials: “...I have no idea who you could be talking about. No, it was a dead Argonian.” Vabvam: “...oh. Wow, that’s... I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do at the Imperial Office of Commerce. They’re not going to be happy at all to hear about this.” Ruin: “There was also a note on the body. It made reference to a ‘death wish’ and mentioned someone or thing called ‘the Mockers’.” Vabvam: “Huh, peculiar ‘The Mockers’ were mentioned in an old back-issue of the Black Horse Courier. Something about using the Thieves Guild as a puppet to control the actions of the Imperial Watch. “All a bit ridiculous, really. I don’t even believe the Thieves Guild exists.” Trials: I tugged at my collar and grimaced. “Yeah, you just keep thinkin’ that, pal.” That business done, we got our pay, and were on our way. I sure hope Vabvam will contact someone about cleaning up the Waterworks. Renting that same old room at the Merchant’s Inn, we turned in for the night... then I woke up in the middle of the night, and slipped off. Ruin is a heavy sleeper, and while it was almost his undoing when we first met, it’s a godsend now, as I was easily able to slip off to Marana’s house. Man, for a woman who trains Sneaks, the security on her house was abysmal. I was in and out in short order, richer for the experience. Or at least, I will be richer tomorrow when Derrien opens up his shop and I can fence the vase.

The following day, I made for “Discount Merchandise” before Ruin woke, and fenced the vase to Derrien, who was quite happy to have another piece of swag to move. I must say that I’m feeling kind of addicted to this work, now. The jobs from Derrien are thrilling, and they pay well, and I still have the job in Cheydinhal from the Thieves Guild to do. And it feels so good to do things that are ‘in my wheelhouse’; that test the skills I’m actually good at! I laid down the coin for another tip, and Derrien delivered once again. Derrien: “Do you have any idea how valuable that Ancient Dagoth Brandy is, that they display in the King and Queen Tavern’s taproom? Brewed in Morrowind centuries ago, and they have three bottle of the stuff! Trials: My mouth watered at the thought of sweet, vintage drinks. “A-a-are you sure you need... all three bottles?” Derrien: “Oh, yes. Unopened preferably. Sorry, babe, but if you want to get paid for this job, no sampling the merchandise.” Drat, rare and ancient booze and I can’t have any of it! And I never really got to enjoy Morrowind spirits; my old master wouldn’t let me have any. This Cyrodiil stuff is pretty great, but I long to taste the booze of the land I grew up in. And, of course, actually getting the stuff first required another day of waiting for an opening to pinch the bottles, and for Derrien to fetch more gold to move the product. Gah, you’d think he’d start bringing extra gold with him once we’d arranged this partnership. Oh well, nothing for it. With time to kill, I fetched Ruin, and we made for Bleaker’s Way again. I thought that maybe we ought to check on them to see what was going on up there.

We found Kristen again, and asked her about the word around town. Kirsten: “These are troubled times in Bleaker’s Way, my friend.” Trials: “What? What’s going on?” Kirsten: “Nivan Dalvilu and Hrol Ulfgar retreated to Nivan’s home shortly after your last visit. They told us they had something important to discuss. Naught but an hour after, shouting could be heard. The shouting continued for hours, and only died down recently. We’d thought to check on them, but they’d locked the door, and none of us have the key.” Ruin: He touched a finger to his chin in contemplation. “I have a bad feeling about this. I think we need to check on the two of them right away.” Trial: “Right! Don’t worry, I’ll be able to get in!” We rushed over to Nivan’s home, and it didn’t take much for me to breach the lock. We entered, and...

...well, this isn’t good. How could this have happened? Both leaders of Bleaker’s Way were dead! After shaking off the shock of this discovery, we searched the pair of them, and the house in general for clues. The first thing to notice was the prescience of a strange, seemingly ceremonial dagger near the bodies. Spell-burns and axe-wounds were present on each of them, suggesting heavily that their argument turned violent. Trials: “...what could have happened. It looked like their argument got too heated and they killed each other, but why??” Ruin: He steepled his hands, and pursed his snout soberly. “I admit upfront that this is mostly speculation, but if I were to guess; Nivan, being a Dunmer, likely had some allegiances to Mephala, who ranks among one of the chief gods of the Dunmer pantheon. It likely left him torn in his allegiances, and he insisted to Hrol that they would need to find some way to appease her. “Hrol, meanwhile, refused the road of appeasement. His pride would not allow it, and he insisted that they fight to preserve their community. “The two argued for hours over the matter, and finally as their argument grew hotter, Nivan picked up the dagger, putting his plan for appeasement into action by stabbing Hrol. Hrol survived the initial stab, and fought back. Nivan defended himself, and the two struck each other down.” Trials: “...” I punched the floor in frustration, the meaty thwack reverberating in the small home. “Dammit! This wasn’t supposed to happen! They... they just gave Mephala what she wanted!” Ruin’s assessment was just conjecture, of course, but it seemed the most likely explanation. We returned outside into the village, and gathered the community together, to explain what has happened. We told them that their community leaders were dead, and explained to them what we believed happened...

...they did not take it well. The village erupted into in-fighting almost immediately. Splitting off, Dark Elves against Nords, they quickly went at each other’s throat. Ruin, helpfully, suggested that we should retreat before the villagers turned their ire on us. We did so quickly, heading east of Bleaker’s Way... back toward the Shrine of Mephala. Foolhardy or no, I was determined to give her a piece of my mind over all of this.

Trials: I punched the statue in frustration and growled. “You! You did this! You witch!” Mephala: Smugly. “Oh-hohoho, this is not my doing. You, little thread-tugger, made this happen. “Such an ingenious plan, you had; tell them upfront of my schemes, and then simply sit back and watch as the divides of race and paranoia cut deeper than their alleged fraternal bonds. All you had to do was shout the encouragement, and let them do the rest! “Is there a prettier sight than friends at war? Take pleasure in the strife you have caused, mortal. Take my blade as reward, and reminder, that no one escapes the Web-Spinner’s machinations. I delight in seeing how many throats you will slit with unblemished hands, and how much sleep you will lose, wondering why your efforts turn to bloodshed.”

Her weapon appeared in my pack. I cracked it open to look upon... a kataaaaaaanaaaa... ...no! No! This weapon is evil! It’s a symbol of Mephala’s heartlessness. It’s... fine, fine craftsmanship a mark of the Web-Spinner’s degeneracy. It’s... delicate curve symbolic of the curve toward depravity. The... cobalt hue representative of the color of her enemies sorrow. The... Darn it! No, I don’t want this cursed sword! Even if it looks sick as hell and has a powerful enchantment. I’m... I’d get rid of this thing, but now I’m afraid of what might happen if it fell into someone else’s hands! Needless to say, Gentle-Reader, I feel awful. I thought I was helping by warning the leaders of Bleaker’s Way about what was happening, but my good deed did not go unpunished. Was it my fault for contacting a Daedric Lord at all? Or would Mephala have simply found someone else to do her bidding? I... I actually feel kind of like Ruin, now; unsure if I can trust my instincts and judgement. Giving a warning seemed like the right thing to do, but it resulted in so much carnage and strife. I have a lot to think about. And step one will be deciding what to do with this thrice-cursed sword!