#birth robe z

[comfymommy]

Enjoy the Parenthood that you are blessed with ❤️ - Comfy Mummy Shop

[anxso]

@ygoc-week Day 7 - AU

YU-GI-OH! 5D’S — RAIN ORICHALCUM

Clear Skies is a story that involves multiple timelines and a version of Z-ONE trapped, trying to find a solution to a time loop. This VERY mucH revolves around Rain and Kalin.

One timeline we get to see is a brief snapshot of an attempt where Z-ONE defeats Roman and is able to restore Rain’s memory prior to her awakening in the Satellite, so during the Team Satisfaction era she’s instead a murderer-menace.

Yet stilllll ends up in a relationship anyway and is facing a firing squad for the things she and Kalin have done. He sets off an explosion, and they manage to escape.

It gets cut off there in the main story BUT I honestly was so enamored with this timeline that I wrote out how they ended up warming up to each other. This one-shot is prettttty long, almost 4k words! but I’m happy I get to share it for OC Week! I originally wrote this for the Angstober prompt “Crimes of Passion” because oh, doesn’t that fit them perfectly?

WARNINGS FOR THIS ONE-SHOT: alcohol use, gun violence, a drinking game that gets. hot n heavy. implied/offscreen nsfw (nothing that would be an E rating on AO3, don’t worry~!)

full fic under the cut :3c

————————

Soft beeps filled the hospital room. Kalin Kessler had fallen asleep on his knees, his hand in Rain Orichalcum’s; she lay comatose on the bed. Z-ONE appeared in the visitation seats in a green flash wearing a blank expression.

“Again. Again,” Z-ONE whispered. “How many times have I been here?”

A swirl of violet flames birthed the figure of a Dark Signer, Ccapac Apu wearing Rain’s skin. Its black robes lined with blue drank in the noonday sunshine. Its drawn hood casted shadows over its dark eyes, but its grin was free and bright. “If it isn’t the worthless machine back again! What are we at now? Should I be celebrating three thousand?”

“When you are snuffed out,” Z-ONE said, “those taunts will vanish with you along with all the anguish you have woven into the universe.”

“Little old me?” It feigned surprise. “But I was happy to eat up one timeline! Here you are creating ever more for me to feast. Tell me, rusty bucket of bolts, do you ever consider how those timelines end up? Ever had one stick in the old brain?”

“What? No. It doesn’t… matter.”

“Oh, but it does. A tree fallen in the forest may go unheard by humanity yet makes sound enough to scatter the birds, and a timeline abandoned by your sorry self continues to spiral until ending up in my wondrous arms. Or are you a depressed solipsist?”

Z-ONE stared. “I go on. It is what I do.”

“The weight of it all must eat you up.” The wicked god hovered over Z-ONE, spittle flying with its words. “The decisions you’ve made and the sheer agony they’ve resulted in. I know you lie to me. They’re lodged in your brain as much as I continue to experience them—every timeline continuing on, every light for me to consume! You should try godhood sometime, but oh, no machine could process it. You would fall to pieces. I suppose it wouldn’t matter, since you’re already a heap of junk!”

Z-ONE’s fists balled. “I am no god. Nor am I a machine. The probability exists. I merely have to find its branch. Your days have been numbered from the start. As for the other branches…”

Z-ONE stood. “A god such as you exists simultaneously on every timeline, and so you will be eradicated everywhere; everywhen.”

“Eradicated!” The wicked god laughed and slapped its knee. “Funny! You aaare funny. You don’t like to talk about them, but I have my favorites! Timelines you’ve screwed up, that is.”

“I’m done talking.” Z-ONE’s bracelet shone emerald. “I defy your ending.”

The wicked god rolled its eyes. “Whatever, whatever, see you next time around.” It cleaned beneath its grimy fingernails and studied Kalin and Rain.

Its smile curled up.

/\/\/\/\/\/

One thousand three hundred and seventy-seven.

Z-ONE tampered with the game of gods by defeating Roman Godwin, possessed by Earthbound Immortal Uru. Uru had snatched Rain Orichalcum’s memories. She was left as a complacent girl with childlike naïvete. A chance run-in with Kalin Kessler netted her an opportunity to join Team Satisfaction and survive in the post-fallout wasteland known as the Satellite, an island used as garbage disposal for the nearby New Domino City.

The Rain Orichalcum who had her memories returned before any such meeting took place, before growing close to humans who showed her kindness and empathy, was a very different person indeed.

Smog intermingled with the gray clouds blanketing the overcast sky. Kalin Kessler strolled the grimy Satellite streets whistling a tune. He kicked a can as he went and periodically glanced up at the rooftops. He passed a pair of stray dogs fighting over a scrap of rotten food and tossed them a fresh granola bar. 

The hairs on the back of his neck lifted. Wind swept through the streets, carrying litter and brushing the collar of his Team Satisfaction vest against his cheek. He spun on his heel, his focus locked on the rooftop of the building behind him.

A pale woman with long, black hair and blue eyes glared down at him. Her legs dangled over the building's edge. Kalin said, "Heyo, it's just the girl I'm looking for!"

She thinned her eyes.

"Oh, how I enjoy our long and eventful conversations. You know, they've started calling you the shadow. I don't think it fits so much. What about something more creative, like, Raven!"

She rolled her eyes. 

"Not your name, then." He sighed and made a show of slumping sadly. "One of these days, I'll find it out! Eh, I have a more, uh, pressing priority today. You got a hard number on how many Securities you've killed?"

Her head tilted, expression unchanging. She held up both hands and lifted one finger, two fingers, all the way to ten. Then she curled her fingers and shrugged. 

"So many you don't know?" 

She confirmed with a nod. 

"See! That's a problem for us. You, too. They're hiking up their numbers in the Satellite and making it worse for every one of us. It goes pretty counter to what I'm trying to do around here, which is to stay on the low to keep Security out of our hair. S'long as we got a nice, united Satellite, Security's the only fuckheads. Make sense?"

She stared.

"Come on. There's gotta be something I can do to convince you to leave them alone. Anything you want? I'll find it. Anything you wanna do to me? Hell, murder me instead for all I care. The rest of my team can take it from there."

"Your logic is flawed," she said, and he jumped. Words! From her mouth! "Every human is a fuckhead."

He couldn't help it; he laughed. "Ah, you got me there! Hey, you duel? How about a bet?"

"I'll take a bet," she said, "but we'll play my game."

"What game's that?"

She smiled in a very unpleasant way. "Drinking. You pass out first, and you never acknowledge my existence again. I pass out first, and you get your wish. I'll leave the guys in gray alone."

Very many a thought raced through Kalin's mind. If this was her game, she was surely better prepared than him. On the other hand, he had biology on his side considering his size over her. "You got yourself a deal."

She dropped onto the street before him, her boots stirring dust. Her loose-fitting black shirt, one arm missing the fabric, swayed with her stride. He followed her without word and with a wide berth. He'd heard enough stories to know even a perceived slight could end his life.

Yet there he went, following the Satellite's infamous murderer to who-knows-where. If he survived, Yusei and Crow would kill him. Jack would shoot him one of his more judgmental looks.

Perhaps he should rethink this.

Nahh. It was for the good of them all, so he had to. Plus, free drinks. They might end up being straight up poison, buuut-

"Here," she said.

Gray waves splashed up the high, craggy shoreline. Across the inlet, New Domino City caught rays of sunshine. The smog in this part of the Satellite, so close to the factories, blocked out the sun. She stood inside a control building connected to a now-defunct hydropower plant. The steel dam still stood, and trash floated on the disgusting green water behind it. 

Kalin followed her inside. She wound down a steel staircase. Their clanging footsteps echoed, testaments to how deep the plant stretched. She stopped three stories down. The emergency generators kept on the lights, and select rations lay scattered on the many control panels. In the corner lay a sleeping bag, an unlit lantern, and scattered bottles. 

She struck a match and lit the lantern. He studied the place. A few cockroach corpses rested here and there but nothing serious. He said, "Must stay pretty warm way down here in the winter."

She yanked down a large switch on the wall, and the humming overhead lights shut off. Screens and buttons provided minimal bright blue lighting. Most came from her lantern, a buttery orange glow. "Do you feel colder now?"

"Huh? Not really."

"The electricity here keeps the heat going," she said. "Since I don't need it, well. There it goes."

He kept a straight face, but it wasn't the greatest news to hear. They hadn't reached the snowy part of the year but the chill was enough to wake him up in the middle of the night. He'd worn only his typical red t-shirt, jeans, vest, and boots. His socks had more holes than he could count, so the cold found his feet first. "Not many places still get heat. How'd you find this?"

"I'm not here for small talk." She picked up two glass bottles of clear liquid and dropped into a rotating chair. I took the one beside her. The pair of tall bottles rested between various knobs and dials, and the lantern sat on the floor between us. The upward casting of shadows darkened her eyes and the hollows of his cheeks. She said, "Truth or dare's the game. If you pick truth, you drink."

The thought of what she might dare him to do skyrocketed his pulse. He said, "You should drink first. Y'know, so I'm sure you're not poisoning me."

She rolled her eyes and took a deep swig. "Guess I'm truth first."

"Your name!" he said. Uh. Surely there were better options, and yet.

"Rain," she answered. "Rain Orichalcum."

"Wow," he whispered. "Rain…"

"Don't- say it like that."

"Like what?"

She shook her head. "Your turn. Pick."

"Truth." He smelled the bottle. Fuck was it strong. He took a swig and coughed. Stuff almost came back up as vomit but he hit his fist against his chest and kept it down. The strength of it flooded his sinuses and lingered there. "Ugh, what the hell?"

She was laughing. He was too stunned to speak. She swiftly recovered her composure and swiped the bottle from him. "All the other stuff isn't strong enough."

"So you drink fucking rubbing alcohol?"

"Yes."

His brows shot up, and he studied the stuff with renewed interest. It'd hit him within seconds and he felt the urge to laugh even though nothing had happened. He rubbed his mouth and said, "Uh, your question?"

"What are you trying to do to this island? Conquer it?"

He blinked. "Kind of. I don't know. That doesn't sound like the right word. We're trying to, like- unite! Thaaat's the word. Yeah, so, right now it's split into a whole bunch of territories run by different gangs. They make life hell for anyone who's not in their gang, and lots of times, members of the gangs act like slaves to whoever the gang leader is. We're not like that. We wanna take them down and let everybody be free. We can make the Satellite as good a place to live as the City that way."

"Why do you believe that?" she said.

"Ha! I'm not drunk enough to fall for that. You gotta ask me next time."

"Fine." She drank. "Truth."

"Why do you keep killing people?"

She squinted and cleaned out her ear with a pinkie. "Do fuckheads deserve the lives they've been given if they use it only to abuse others? Take these other gangs, for example. Clearly you have a case of an individual with power who abuses it and takes advantage of those beneath the leader. Why should they continue to exist?"

He snorted. "Yeah, okay, they suck. Why does that mean you get to kill 'em? Like, why do you get to decide that?"

"I answered my question."

"Ugggh. How many in are we?"

"You've had two shots," she said. 

"What? No. I'm gonna fall out of the fucking chair! Whatever. I'll take a dare!"

Rain struck a match. A single strip of smoke rose up between them. "Your tongue. Five seconds."

"What the fuck?"

She arched an eyebrow. Psycho. Kalin opened his mouth. The heat started at the tip and slowly moved back inside his mouth, her fingers touching his lips. "One. Two. Three."

He shut his eyes tight against the searing pain. He smelled something burning. She dragged out her vowels: "Fooour…"

He clamped down his teeth, snatching the match and smothering it with his tongue. Her fingers came away wet, and she gaped at them. He grinned with the blackened match as his toothpick. "Five!"

She scowled and took a swig. "Truth."

"So boring!" A corner of his mouth quirked up. "How many shots does it take to get you to pass out?"

"To be determined."

He threw up his hands. The fact it didn't throw off his center of gravity was a good sign insofar. "Lemme ask a real one since you can't answer that. It's only fair." She nodded, so he said, "Why d'you hate people so much?"

A corner of her lip jumped with her snarl. "Because of what they did to me."

Hangups, eh. He considered the bottle. "Meh, do your worst. Dare again."

She giggled. He about fell into the floor hearing it. He deeefinitely had the lead. She said, "Really?"

"Yeah, really! What's the torture gonna be this time?"

She leveled an even stare at him. "Take off your shirt."

He busted out a laugh. Her expression didn't change. He said, "Oh, so I've caught the shadow's eye, huh?"

The chair spun behind Rain as she shot to her feet and gripped a fistful of his shirt. He grinned and held up his empty hands. She dropped him and sniffed. "I hope you freeze to death."

"Mhmm, that's it." He was too far gone to fear her snarl. He tossed off his vest and peeled off his shirt, stretching to leave his broad shoulders. She sat with the chair backwards, her chin resting on its cushioned back. The bottle dangled from her fingers. She kept her eyes locked with his. The cold raised bumps on his skin but the thundering pump of his blood kept him plenty warm. He smiled, saying, "I can tell you're trying sooo hard to keep your eyes up there."

Her expression soured. She downed three massive gulps, finishing the bottle, and tossed it aside. "Truth."

"Do I get three?"

"I'll ssstab you," she said. 

Her blinks were getting uneven, too. That with the slurring meant very good things for him. He nabbed the next bottle. "Are you really gonna follow through on our bet?"

She let her arms dangle over the chair, and her cheek pressed against the chair. "Mmm. I would still defend myshelf."

The lantern flickered yet the light was bright in his eyes–electric. "Myshelf?" 

"Shut up. You take three. You slowed down too fast for it to be fun."

He swallowed a trio of the nasty stuff. He stumbled and had to find his chair with a probing hand. "That answer works for me. I get a truth now, right?"

"Yeah." She stood up and swayed. A firm hand on the chair kept her upright. "What the hell is with your interest in me? You're always talking to me and wanted my name and- you've heard about me. You know what I've done."

There was a tremble to her that could've come from any number of things. Kalin chalked it up to the alcohol. "Suuure. I've got connections. I know the witnesses. Funny thing about all the stories is how all those kills were for the purpose of protecting a victim. Crazy stuff! There's always someone who was in danger and got away."

"That's not true," she hissed.

"Okay, take your sip and lemme ask you for the truth."

She grit her teeth and growled. "Dare."

"I get mine now? Finally!" He crossed his arms over the back of his chair. "Shirt off."

"What?" 

"Come on. You can't act that way when you made me do it."

Her inhale was sharp. Her focus rolled down his bare arms and abdomen. Her frown was a tight little thing as she threw off her black shirt. Loose gauze bound her chest. The lantern light caught on the light hairs surrounding her navel and trailing up her flat stomach to the white wrappings, the topmost loop of which was juuust open enough-

"Stop," she snapped.

"Yeah, yeah. The hell do I do? I think if I have another sip I'll, like, die." 

There was also the curve of her hips, how the lantern's flicker played its soft and warm light over her skin disappearing into her waistband-

"Dare," he managed.

"I dare you to claw out your own fucking eyes."

He blinked and stared at his hands. "Shit."

Rain doubled over laughing. She stumbled, hit the floor, and lay on her back still busting a gut. He started in with her. She said, "Dumbass."

"How'd you know the nickname my friends gave me?"

They broke down into a new fit. 

"I dare you to drink more," she said.

"Huh? That's gotta be against the rules!"

"Fuck your rules."

"Can't argue with that," he said, and he drank. He couldn't taste it anymore. Probably he was dying or something, but what a way to go. "Your turn."

She pushed up off the floor. "Dare."

The lantern was low and sputtering. He leaned into the dark and said, "Touch me."

Her eyes widened, the reflected spot of orange like a sunburst sky. He laughed and ran his hand through his hair. "No, that was stupid, I-"

But she was approaching him, cautious like a feral animal attracted to proffered food. He stood stock still. She studied him from his ice-blue locks long enough to fall in his face to his warm hazel eyes to his bare chest. Her fingertip pressed onto his sternum and traveled down, tracing the outline of his abs, leaving a hot touch in every trench. He realized he was hearing her breaths, loud and echoing, and he was holding his own without meaning to. She pressed her hand to his stomach, and he gasped, the incredible warmth of her enticing a shiver throughout all of him.

"You know," she whispered, her fingertips glancing up his chest to land on his shoulder, "I think it's your turn."

He could only remain upright and breathe.

"Kalin?" she said.

A shaky exhale left him. He laughed a little, and she squeezed his shoulder. "This is the greatest day of my life."

"Huh?"

"You said my name," he murmured, staring up at the ceiling. "And I've never heard it said better."

She clicked her tongue and turned away. "I can tell I'm drunk because that one kind of worked."

His arm looped around her waist. "How much?"

She shook him off, and he stepped back. She said, "Drink or don't. I'm still gonna win."

He took a swig. His vision went blurry for a few seconds but he managed to blink it away. "Ask away."

She met his eyes and said, "What do you want to do to me?"

His brows lifted and he had absolutely zero control over his stare landing on her chest, on the gauze-wrapped curves swelling and retreating with the rhythm of her breaths. She inched closer to him, licked her lips, and said, "Dare."

He pinched the end of the gauze above her cleavage and waited, the question in his eyes. Her fingers curled around his wrist and the smallest part of him, the still sober bit, expected his bones to snap. But she guided his hand to unwind the binding and free her bare skin. The white strips fell and curled around her feet. He stared at her and she at him, their exhales long and intermingling, the world silent outside the thrumming beats of their hearts.

She snuffed out the light with her bare fingertips and pressed her body to his. She kissed him and he tasted like bonfire smoke. He couldn't think beyond the need to be consumed by her heat like the damn match, left a burnt and useless nothing, and he didn't care. Her dark hair was silk through his fingers and he had to hold her ever closer. They fell onto the sleeping bag. The glow of the LED screens turned her eyes electric blue, and he grasped her face to brush his thumbs beneath them. She kissed him again and her fingers found his waistband. 

It's dark outside–a seemingly abrupt state but one that occurred gradually, the sunset a fleeting and dying beauty to behold.

/\/\/\/\/\/

"We can't keep running forever. What do we do?" Kalin slammed his fist into the alley wall, and his knuckles bled. The pouring rain filled the open wounds. "I don't know what the fuck to do!"

Rain sat slumped on the opposite side. The white roots of her hair showed on the crown of her head. The drizzle dripped down her face like stray tears. Blood mixed in the liquid from the cut on her cheek, the graze of a bullet. "The clothes factory?"

"Fucking Security knows about it, and about your power plant. The hideout, too. Shit. That explosion got you away from the firing squad but brought more of those fuckers out of the woodworks. Where do we go?"

"If I turn myself in-"

"Don't give me that shit. We go down, we go down together."

"I wouldn't be anybody without you!" she said. "You have to keep going, even if I-"

He took her hand between his. "You're everything, whether I'm there or not. Let's get going. Hard to hear with the rain, so we gotta stay on the move."

They climbed the rooftops. Flashlights attached to assault rifles cut through the storm. Shouts rang out but the downpour drowned them. Rain and Kalin ran from building to building, offering minimal exposure. Bullets fired. Glass shattered by them. They hit the deck and scrambled outside the back exit.

A horde of Securities awaited them. A pair filtered in from behind and jabbed them forward with their barrels. Rain followed Kalin's lead by holding up her empty hands. The Securities surrounding them were all poised and ready to fire their uncountable weapons. 

A voice crackled over their comms. The Security wearing a scarf clicked his radio, saying, "Roger."

All fronts fired at once. Rain screamed but the bullets whizzed past her and tore Kalin apart. The onslaught ceased. She dove to his side and gathered him in her arms but he was gone, gone. She roared and threw out her deck, touching every card. An army of monsters filled the sky. Dragons blasted Securities and blades stabbed clean through bulletproof vests. A panicked Security fired wildly, automatic weapon churning out bullet after bullet. Several Securities fell yet the attack of the enraged monsters did not end.

Scarlet blossomed from Rain's chest. She collapsed in a splash of water. The endless gray sky brought her back to that day so long ago it felt like decades past rather than months.

How love slows time.

Her breaths weakened, and her heartbeat slowed.

It doesn't have to end like this.

Violet blazed from both Rain and Kalin's forearms. The mark of the Giant glowed, and fuchsia flames ate away at their bodies until nothing remained.

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

(reminder I’m just a writer, artist credit in alt text!)

OC week has been so great!!! I’ve loved seeing and reading about all your blorbos <3 (and I’m in a few nice OC spaces if anyone wants in/ to add on discord, anx)

[harrisonvaletski]

Pending Reviews

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[asarunelson999]

*Update, Paragraph Added*

The churches that popped up [When the Europeans started to colonize America] were predominantly plantation churches, so the congregation was mostly relatives. From time to time, the slave master went into these churches and took out the good looking Nubian Women, impregnated them and then put them back in the congregation. Eventually, their mixed offspring (called Mulattos) would grow up and be more desirable to them (the slave masters). The Mulattos would take on the roles of house servants, preachers, etc. Even to this day most of your Black leaders, Politicians, and popular entertainers are light skinned Nubians. The slaves who did hold a position in the Congregation became revered, thus, the title "Reverend" was ascribed to them.

One of the most popular branches to spring up that Nubians became part of was the Baptist Church. Originally, the Baptist Church came from the Knights of Templar. They wore long white robes, immersed people in water during baptisms and lit their crosses for light at night time. They gave birth to the Ku Klux Klan (really a Masonic order) which formed a vigilante group to keep Nubians in line. They broke away and started meeting in barns. That's why most churches are in the shape of a barn. This was the beginning of the churches that most of your grandparents faithfully attended.

~ The Master Teacher Dr. Malachi Z. York

#FreeDrYork #backtobasics #Nashat

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 4 Chapter 50″

Masterlist HERE.

"New birth running Running through my veins Looks like that clear day finally came Feeling high, aw

Ooh So, so satisfied, this must be Must be all there is 'Cause only love brings With it joy and tears"

Ashford & Simpson – "So So Satisfied"

"Lower your head Sweet Pea… that's my girl… lower… now sweep your feet. There ya go! You got it now!"

Erik stood back from his crouched position on the palace gymnasium floor as his oldest daughter practiced the new moves he taught her. Riki and Joba watched him work with their sister while sitting cross-legged around them, and his son itched to jump in and show off what he remembered from their last session before they moved away from him.

Yani brought the children for a family breakfast as they waited for Umama and Baba Z to return with Grandpop. The palace head chef prepared an elaborate meal for all of them, and Erik fought from touching Yani the moment he saw her step into the dining room. She wore an eggshell white drop waist dress that matched the white of all the outfits everyone else had on to honor the dead returning home. He nodded to her when the children ran to him with excited energy wearing their workout clothes, but he did his best to not stare at her so much. She dyed her hair platinum and her dark eyes and thick dark eyebrows gave her a hauntingly beautiful look. The energy around her was light and whatever visible anger she had toward him when she left the palace had disappeared. Perhaps the somber occasion made her neutral toward him out of respect for the rest of the family.

"My turn! My turn!" Riki shouted, jumping into the middle and holding his hands in a defensive position.

Erik tested Riki's skills and helped him practice round kicks and more controlled swaying motions. Riki pulled Joba up to face Erik, and his youngest daughter, having more experience with the art form, showed her father how much she had improved with his teachings. Joba had better balance and smoother transitions with her flow, while her little face held deep concentration. Erik helped her coordinate her hands and feet to move against Riki. The two children faced off together as he guided Sydette to do a proper handstand.

"Hold it longer… twenty more seconds Sweet Pea… now bring your legs down slowly… go into your next move…" Erik said.

Sydette did a shaky cartwheel and slid into a wobbly half split.

"Good job! Getting better Sweet Pea!" he encouraged.

"N'Jadaka, it is time for the children to get ready," Ramonda said, stepping into the gym.

"Go on," Erik said.

His children ran to the Queen Mother to go bathe and change out of their gym clothes. Erik went to his own suite to shower and change into royal mourning robes. He washed with a handmade gel filled with dried herbs and flowers. The odor of the mixture reminded him of something his Nana Jean used to make in Oakland when he or his mother, Califia, weren't feeling well. He used another herbal mixture to rinse himself off and air-dried his body. After rubbing fresh hair oil on his locs and thicker beard growth, Erik looked at his nude reflection in a full-length changing mirror. His keloid scars were shiny brutal reminders of his past and what it took to arrive in the country he would soon rule. Touching his chest all over, he flexed his pecs and arm muscles before spraying a subtle mist of cologne all over his body that gave him a fresh, crisp scent.

His mourning clothing consisted of white drop crotch pants with a long white linen V-neck shirt that hung with tied fringe knots at the bottom. He placed his golden jaguar necklace around his neck and wondered why he felt so calm, preparing to not only greet his grandfather but to receive his deceased parents, too. After N'Jobu and Califia had been buried, Erik never went to visit their gravesites. For so long as a child, he had denied the existence of a cemetery as their final resting place. In his mind, they were beyond death. They were never really gone as long as he held onto that belief. But now he was going to have to face the truth.

Taking a deep breath, he shook out his arms and sought out his private bar in the living room. He poured a large glass of plum liquor and gulped it down, closing his eyes as the drink warmed his throat. A knock at his door brought him out of his reverie. He answered.

T'Challa stood at his door draped in cloud white linens. His face was decorated with white dots across his forehead and along his cheeks and chin. He held a small jar and paintbrush in his hand.

"I have come to help you with this," T'Challa said, holding up the jar filled with white liquid.

Erik stood aside and T'Challa walked into his home.

"Out there," Erik said, pointing to the balcony.

T'Challa followed him outside and Erik took a seat, gazing out at the river. His cousin set to work painting his face with care, the cool paint drying quickly. It took about ten minutes to complete the task.

"Look," T'Challa said.

Erik stood with his eyes fixed on the horizon. Over a dozen quad stingers escorted a wide half cruiser in the distance. All the aircraft looked like small dots so far away, but they would loom large soon enough. A shudder rippled through his chest and he blew out a gust of nervous breath. T'Challa patted his arm.

"Come," T'Challa said.

"Wait," Erik said, the soft hesitation in his voice making T'Challa look at the approaching spectacle again.

A mixture of fear, sorrow, anger, and hopelessness washed over him and he gripped the railing of his balcony to steady himself.

"I'm not ready," Erik said.

The onset of a panic attack squeezed his midsection and his breathing became erratic. He gasped for air and fought the numbness that crept up his right arm.

"You are ready, N'Jadaka," T'Challa said.

Erik shook his head, but T'Challa clasped his right hand.

"N'Jobu meant everything to me," T'Challa said. "He was my father before my own could accept me. When my mother died, I grew up knowing my father resented me for the first three years of my life. Uncle N'Jobu stood in the gap for me to make sure I knew that I was loved. He became my father figure until my own Baba could open his heart to me. I worshipped my father once he embraced me, but I am not afraid to say out loud that Uncle N'Jobu loved me more. You will probably never forgive my father for what he did to yours. I still haven't come to terms with it myself, and I am very sorry that you have carried so much hate in your heart for so long, N'Jadaka. Prince N'Jobu was truly loved by his people and we have missed him so much. I hope that you and I will not repeat the mistakes of our fathers. They were so close once. Before my mother passed. We cannot change the past, cousin, but we can make the future we want to see by communicating together. Working as a family. It hurts me to see that ship coming with what's inside of it. But I am grateful to stand here with you and welcome your father and mother home."

Erik cleared his throat and ran his tongue across his slugs.

"He told me so many stories about you," Erik said.

T'Challa grinned.

"I even bought you this little secret decoder toy I thought we could play with together. Y'know, send each other messages… run around here being silly," Erik said.

"You still have it?" T'Challa asked.

"Nah man, that thing been lost. Packed up somewhere and forgotten."

"It would have been nice to play with you here in the palace."

"You have some kids one day, and our children can do that," Erik said.

"That would be a sight to see," T'Challa said.

Erik bowed his head and let out another nervous exhale. The ships flew closer.

T'Challa gently gripped his arm and led him out of the suite and onto the elevator. Noxolo stood next to Erik, and she gave him a pleasant smile. He had to keep exhaling rapidly and shook his hands all the way down to the first floor.

Stepping out of the elevator, the rest of his family greeted him along with extended Wakandan kin. Cousins, aunts, and uncles from Baba Z's family and the same for Umama's side, surrounded the immediate family. The Council of Elders joined them, along with military leaders who had worked with his father. Noxolo's grandmother, Captan Yoneli, was there along with the former Airman Sizani who followed Erik all the way to M.I.T. just to look after him. There were so many people there and their numbers strengthened Erik. A large Wakandan drumline stood to the side, flanked by spiritual elders who carried large bronze swinging incense burners brought down from the Temple of Bast on Mount Ezulwini. Five of the dozen drummers Erik recognized as his older cousin Sekani, his father's favorite relative, and also his father's four best friends Jax, Odwa, Paki, and Chisulo. All five of the men were tall, broad-shouldered, and handsome, their eyes shining with pride at being asked to drum the homecoming march for the royal family.

Erik's eyes swept to his children, and they watched him with bright eyes standing next to their mothers. Disa and Yani were near one another with solemn expressions, each watching his face to read his mood. Yani gave him a slight head nod to encourage him to hold it together. Disa had her hair and part of her face covered in a delicate white muslin scarf, but he glimpsed the worried look in her eyes. She gave him a weak smile, and he looked away quickly, willing his body to relax. Shuri stood next to her mother and Queen Ramonda approached him as the head of the gathering. Her white ischolo crown became the beacon he needed to focus on gathering himself.

"It is time… at last," Ramonda said.

Erik glanced around as his panic fully set in. Elder Zinzi stepped forward and reached for his hand.

"We stand with you, Prince N'Jadaka," Zinzi said.

Erik took her hand and she guided him to stand next to Ramonda. He clasped Zinzi's hand tighter, and they all headed to the far end of the palace. Flanked by all the Dora Milaje, the family stepped out into the bright Wakandan sun.

They walked through the back gate of the East palace that led into the royal garden where there was enough open space for the giant half cruiser to land. The royal family didn't want to bring the ship onto the Talon Port. There were already too many news reporters and photographers surrounding the front of the double palace trying to capture images of the family and his parents' coffins. He glanced over his shoulder and looked at his children as they walked out of the garden's tall red stone gate. Sydette sprinted toward him, followed by Riki and Joba. Erik placed them next to him and Elder Zinzi. Their painted faces matched his, and he put on a brave face for them even as his body trembled. Sydette latched onto his hand.

"Look how big it is, Baba!" Sydette said, pointing up at the half cruiser.

It floated down like it was a butterfly landing on a flower. The quad stingers stayed in the sky for protection and to keep news drones away. They all waited patiently for the half cruiser to settle its landing gear, the weight of the ship locking in place vibrating under their feet. A ramp slid down and the ship opened. Erik heard Ramonda murmur under her breath, "Bast, be with us."

The silence of nearly one hundred Udaku family members waiting was louder than Erik's heartbeat thudding in his chest. The billowing white dress of Umama emerging caught his eye first. She held onto Dante's left hand as Baba Z held on to his paternal grandfather's right hand. All three were dressed in silky white cotton and the Wakandan sun gave them a dreamy look as they gazed upon the family waiting for them.

"Grandpop!"

Sweet Pea dashed away from Erik's side with her siblings racing in the rear. Dante halted his steps down the ramp and held out his arms for his great-grandchildren. Erik took a step forward as his grandfather lifted Sydette up first. The momentum of the children nearly knocked him off balance, and Baba Z had to help them all down the ramp before Dante could hug each of the little ones without falling over. Joba had her arms wrapped around her Grandpop's waist before he finally looked toward the palace again and saw Erik.

Dante held out his arms, and Erik had never run so fast in his life. Tears blinded his eyes and his grandfather's blurry image still held true in front of him.

"There he is! There's my JaJa!" Dante shouted.

Erik smothered the old man with his arms and could not let him go.

"God is good… God is so good…" Dante whispered in Erik's ear.

The pain that nestled in Erik's chest eased, and the panic attack that tried to lay him flat fell away.

"I missed you, old man. I won't ever leave your side again!" Erik said.

His voice broke and even up close, he still couldn't see his grandfather's face through his tears. Dante wiped each thick, salty tear drop away until Erik could finally see those gentle, light brown eyes that witnessed so much pain in a lifetime.

"Ah, you can see me now," Dante said.

Erik pressed his forehead against Dante's.

"Lord Jesus, I forgot how tall you were, boy!" Dante teased.

He stroked Erik's locs and pushed him back so he could look at his entire body. His wrinkled fingers shook and touched Erik from head to toe, making sure he wasn't an illusion. Dante glanced down at his great-grandchildren.

"You see what you made?" Dante said, admiring the children.

Erik nodded.

"I'm here to stay and I'll make sure you don't do nothin' foolish again. Ya heard me, boy? I will live out my life to see you enjoy your family," Dante said, patting Erik's shoulders.

Dante kissed Erik's cheek, then he reached for Umama and Baba Z's hand and pulled them closer.

"No more pain. We are one family now. The past is the past," Dante said.

Umama touched Erik's face, and he kissed the inside of her palms. He took a moment to hug Baba Z and Dante again, but then the startling sounds of drums and hand instruments played loud and strong. But the sound didn't come from behind Erik as expected. It emanated from within the half cruiser.

The powerful voice of a man rang out, surrounding them. Erik and his children turned to face the ship and within seconds, Joba dropped her little body lower to the ground and swayed to the sounds of a berimbau. Portuguese words gusted over him like a strong wind as his mind translated what he heard. Besouro's voice.

The Beetle sang to him.

"I am Ogum's son! There is no day nor hour. Give me protection in this game now!"

Draped in all white from head to toe, Besouro stepped off of the ship shaking his shaggy long salt and pepper locs with Marisol and Uncle Bakari next to him, dressed the same and playing their berimbaus too. Erik couldn't take his eyes off Marisol's attire. A grin creased his lips. Dressed as an ialorixá, a priestess, her hair was wrapped up in white with a long white caftan covering her body. Her eyes were on fire as she played her berimbau and sang to him with the voice of authority.

"If the game doesn't catch, you can't be knocked down. I am a slave descendent. I have my body closed!" she sang out.

Uncle Bakari added his voice, his eyes focused on Erik's face behind his thick glasses.

"Ogum's son can't be beaten! I am warrior. I came to battle. Ogum's son can't be beaten!"

As Uncle Bakari sang, Aunt Serah and Uncle Addae stepped off the ship, along with Aunt Shavonne, Aunt Soliel, and Aunt Aunjanue. They were joined by Mãe and Uncle Andres, who played an atabaque drum along with… Walter and Erik's other best friend, Shawn. Every time Erik thought his heart couldn't take more surprises, another relative stepped out of the ship. Aunt Rolitia and his cousin Nevaeh dressed in their traditional Yurok attire and shaking rattan and sea shell percussive rattlers to add texture to the capoeira sounds, joined the reunion. His mother's two brothers, Uncle A.J. And Uncle Brandon grinned at him when they emerged. He clapped his hands with joy when his older cousin Junie stepped off the ship with a bewildered expression of shock and love in his eyes. Erik didn't have enough arms or lips to hug and kiss everyone.

The music roared over him, reminding Erik that he was the son of Ogum and so much more. He started swaying to the music as Marisol and Besouro targeted the lyrics to his chest, puffing him up and lifting his spirits. His baby daughter Joba danced next to him. She was familiar with the song and Erik clapped his hands, watching her sing about Ogum, encouraging her to cartwheel and show off her skills. He nudged Sydette and Riki to join in and they caught the magic that the music brought out in everyone, making them want to dance and sing, too.

Shocked cries from Yani, Disa, and Twyla rose behind him as the three women ran forward when some of their own family members stepped from the ship. Disa's mother and brothers hugged her, while Yani's Aunt Leona and her parents loved up on her after a lengthy absence.

Erik turned to Umama as his heart nearly burst in his chest.

"Is this why it took you so long to come back?" he asked.

Umama wiped his cheeks with warm fingers.

"We wanted all of your family here with you. Baba Z made all the arrangements. We had to take a half cruiser to accommodate everyone, grandson," Umama said.

The berimbaus reached a crescendo, and Erik swayed his body in time to the music, letting his people see he was alive and well. His children copied his moves in front of Marisol, who sang above the powerful percussive sounds. Her crystal-clear voice let Wakanda know the diaspora had arrived. The family surrounded Erik, watching him flip and spin, taking in their love, their energy, and their spirit until he jumped in front of his grandfather again. Dante pressed his hands against Erik's and they danced together inside the circle until Leona broke the formation and reached for his body and hugged him. Yani's aunt clutched his arms and stared at his face. She had fluffed out her hair for him to look fancy. He touched her gray curls and kissed her cheek.

"Is it really you?" Leona said with a hushed tone of disbelief.

"It's me, Auntie," he said, as she touched his face with both hands.

More love and hugs flowed to him. He wanted to touch and be touched a thousand times over, and everyone on his side of the family fussed over Riki and Sydette as Joba introduced them to their new family herself with pride. Erik saw how alone his youngest had been and how thrilled she was to have Riki and Sydette. She couldn't let go of her brother's hand as Riki soaked up most of the attention because he was a tiny version of Erik. Serah, Soliel, and Aunjanue could not stop crying at how the boy looked like Califia too. Uncle Bakari kept looking at Riki and shaking his head. Mãe even questioned Sydette's paternity, claiming openly that Sweet Pea acted too much like his own child to have been fathered by someone else. They enveloped Yani as one of their own.

Hugs were long, strong, and plentiful, and they would've gone on for hours crying and fussing over the children, kissing Shuri and thanking her for saving him, praising T'Challa for ignoring Erik's wishes, smothering Yani with excited love and hugs, and greeting the Udaku extended family with affection, but Umama grabbed Erik's hand and pulled him aside. Baba Z raised his hands and the Wakandan drummers took over.

Everyone split into two lines and allowed the drummers to drift toward the ship, with the spiritual elders leading the way. Marisol handed her berimbau to her grandfather Andres and joined the processional. The doors of the half cruiser widened, and Erik gripped Umama and Dante's hands. T'Challa stood next to their grandfather and took a deep breath.

Loud ululations erupted from Umama's and Ramonda's throats and the chill that fell over everyone sent a hush over Erik's side of the family. The Wakandan relatives added their ululations, summoning seven male and female dancers who greeted two Dora Milaje that traveled with Umama and Baba Z to retrieve a prince and his foreign wife.

Erik expected to see two separate coffins emerge, but instead, his father and mother were placed together inside of a giant gold and silver sarcophagus. The sight of it sent Erik spinning.

"Grandpop," Erik choked out.

"It's okay JaJa… it's okay…" Dante said.

The piercing wail of a griot halted the dancing and drumming. An elderly man with a large elephant staff carved in dark ebony wood stood in front of the ramp as N'Jobu and Califia were pushed out of the half cruiser. The griot sang out the life story of Prince N'Jobu in Wakandan and it knocked the wind out of his son. Marisol moved next to the griot and sang out Califia's capoeira song, telling the Wakandans about the Master Hammer, the woman of the Lost Tribe that their prince fell in love with.

Erik's knees buckled, and he fell to the ground, feeling like his heart had shattered and couldn't be put back together. The lifeblood in his body coursed through him, keeping him alive, but seeing them, his Mommy and Baba, wrecked him. He pounded his fists on the ground and screamed. Smashing his forehead into the hard surface of the earth, Erik screamed again, the sensation of dying yanking him down into a dark place. Dante rubbed his back and Umama stroked the top of his head as he kept screaming and rocking his body forward.

It was T'Challa who came and lifted Erik to his feet, guiding him toward the floating sarcophagus. Erik's feet didn't want to move and dragged along with his cousin's urging. He turned to look at Dante, but he glimpsed his children's fearful faces watching him. His grief frightened them. Umama and Baba Z walked beside him, along with Dante.

Once Erik reached his parents, the hitching in his chest had ceased long enough so that he could stand tall before them. He reached out and touched the top of the sarcophagus, where a carved image of his parents from an old picture they took together sat in the center.

"He loved her so much," Erik said, "And she adored him."

T'Challa nodded and admired the image. Erik rested his head on the sarcophagus, leaving smudges of white paint on his face.

"My son, you are finally home. With your beautiful wife beside you. This is not what we wanted, my baby…" Umama wailed.

Erik closed his eyes and rested his cheek on the sacred container.

"I will finish what you started, Baba. Mom, you didn't die for nothin'. I will shake up the world like you wanted to. Believe that," Erik whispered to them.

T'Challa reached out and caressed the sleek sarcophagus. His wet eyes smeared the paint on his cheeks.

"I missed you so much, Uncle N'Jobu. I am sorry for what my father did to you—"

"Nah," Erik said, shaking his head and staring at his cousin, "you ain't gotta apologize for that. That wasn't on you. All that is over and done with in their time. Let that shit go, cuz," Erik said.

T'Challa's forehead crinkled, and he gave a strained sigh of air from his lips. Closing his eyes, he let tears roll down freely. Erik watched his cousin weep for his uncle. Then he rested his hand on T'Challa's shoulder.

"Baba?"

Erik glanced down and saw Riki staring up at him and calling for his attention. He lifted his son so he could see the top of the sarcophagus. T'Challa lifted Joba and Sydette in his arms so they could observe it, too.

"These are my parents. Califia and N'Jobu. Your paternal grandparents," Erik said to all three of them.

The children looked over the image of Califia and N'Jobu and marveled at the size of the sarcophagus. Erik turned to the rest of the family.

"I am Prince N'Jadaka! Son of N'Jobu Udaku, the Golden Jaguar, and son of Califia Stevens, the Master Hammer. Make way for my parents. They have come home!" Erik shouted.

The Wakandan drummers burst into the thunderous rhythm that heralded the arrival march again. Erik held onto Riki and grasped Dante's hand to lead the royal sarcophagus into the East palace surrounded by a gauntlet of love, family, and the joyous ululations that rose to the ancestral plane for his parents to hear.

Chapter 51 HERE.

A.N.: The song Marisol, Besouro and Bakari sing is called “Filho d’Ogum” I translated parts of the song in English, but here’s the Portuguese lyrics and the song being sung:

Filho d’Ogum

Vale me Deus do céu Vale me Deus do céu Colega velho Vale me nossa senhora Vou jogar a Capoeira, Jogo de dentro e de fora Sou filho de Ogum Nem tem dia nem tem hora Que me dê protecção Nesse jogo de agora Se o jogo não apanha Nem se pode se derrubar Sou descendência de escravo Tenho o meu corpo fechado Filho de Ogum não pode apanhar Eu sou guerreiro Eu vim guerriar

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[whereflowersbloom]

La tendresse

She wakes with sunlight bright in her face, body aching all over and a slight headache. She felt like she might vomit but swallowed it down. She had been worse off before from a little wine sickness and survived. Rhachel sat up slowly, closing her eyes when the world tilted dangerously. When she figured she was steady enough, she opened them again.

The sun was streaming in through her open window, painting pinks and orange hues in the sky. Though the shadow led her to believe it was later than she normally woke. How long had she slept? It’s usually the birds that woke her up, their chirping a sweet melody that reminded her of homeland or the warm, familiar sensation of Damian’s lips wandering the curves of her body. She looked around, and spotted a flower on the little table next to the bed along with a breakfast tray of something. There were a few thick slices of Ma’rouk bread, some figs and grapes, and something that looked like rice custard.

She picked up the white rose, noticing the little card tied to the stem with a delicate silver ribbon. ‘To my lovely Princess of thorns, this flower pales in comparison to your beauty and grace. I’ll come find you after my council meeting. With fondness Damian.” Immediately a smile was curving her lips and all she could think about was her Damian. ‘Love can blossom over time just as it can capture you in a single breathe’ Lady Z had told her once before coming to the land of Sand for the tourney. One moment with him had been enough to set her world ablaze. His eyes like wildfire ignited her soul and engulfed her completely in the flames of ardor.

The first fingers of the coming winter caressed her bare legs, a false spring giving way to chill. The thin robe she wore did little to help her chill from the open window, the ivory satin clinging to her torso and hips but providing no heat. The last days of autumn brought a freezing cold breeze and even behind the safety of the red mountains, the blistering hot deserts of Nanda Parbat were not safe.

Soon it would be winter and it meant her seven and ten nameday was coming as well. Much had changed since she married Damian, she thought dropping her hands to the soft curve of her belly. Almost unnoticeable but there was no doubt a life was growing inside her womb.

The reason of her morning sickness became obvious after the imperial physician asked when was the last time she bled. She had not bled for two moons, she realized then. There had been a look of such happiness on Damian’s face when she told him the wonderful news and suddenly he was the sun itself. Radiating joy the same way as the colossal star did warmth.

She proceeded to eat her breakfast slowly, keeping almost all of it it down despite her stomach protesting. Kori was missing at the moment. Perhaps she was letting her take a rest from court. Nonetheless, she still had duties to attend that could not be ignored. Just as she was finishing her meal, someone knocked on her chamber’s door.

“Come in.” She replied, assuming it was Kori and preparing to greet her. The door groaned when it swung open, protesting. To her surprise, she met familIar green eyes she knew too well.

Damian.

“Awake now?” He murmured with an slightly amused expression. Her cheeks warming faintly at his question.

“The babe seems to be restless just like his father.” She pressed a hand to her stomach where she imagines their child to rest. After a brief moment she asks. “Is the council meeting over?”

“I left for a moment.” Damian said with a twinge of disappointment as he was reminded they still had much to discuss. He parted his lips as if to speak, but closed it again, thinking carefully of his words as he didn’t want to stir her emotions. “I wanted to spend time with you before I ride north with Jon.”

Her chest tightened painfully. Damian was riding with Jon up the snowy Kunlun mountains to distribute thick garments and goods for the less fortunate. She tried to remain neutral and collected as the crown princess she was, but her voice faltered, betraying her distress. “You could take me with you.”

“I do not want to risk your good health.” Damian shook his head lightly, the tension evident on his clenched jaw. He understood that she did not went to part from him but given her condition. It was best his wife stayed in the capital as he could not risk his heir. “Conner and Jayson will stay behind to protect you.”

The thought that this child in her womb could die sent jolts of heartache through her bosom. She just nodded, shaking off such dark thoughts.

Even if she was raised to be dutiful queen, it took her some time after marrying into the Al Ghul house to understand such a responsibility bore a heavy weight. Watching her every step as Damian assured there were enemies between them at court. Life was filled with rules and expectations she was if being frank unprepared for.

“Come lay with me.” She pleaded gently, reaching out an arm and patting the empty space next to her. She was far too tired to do much else.

Promptly, Damian kicked the door shut behind him. Ghosting to the large bed, climbing on before lying next to his wife. She nestled close to him, enjoying the warmth he provided, letting her head fall to the side to admire his face, and he did the same, those otherworldly indigo eyes bright and alive, burning with pure devotion.

“I’ll think of you every day we are apart.” Damian grasped her left hand, kissing the palm. “Both of you.” He added as one of his hands slid to the swell of her belly, stroking it tenderly.

His fingers travelled up, ghosting along her jaw until he's cupping her face, like she’s fragile and precious, a treasure to be hoarded. Damian was a generous and passionate lover, mouth moving over hers tenderly only pausing to whisper words of love and reassurance. She reacted instinctively, responding in kind to his probing tongue.  

“I love you.” She breathed against his mouth. Damian’s expression softened, and for a beat he looks younger, much more like a simple young man in love than the future ruler of the Nanda Parbat.

He placed a kiss on her bare shoulder, a gentle caress of his lips on her skin. “You are my queen, Rae. My only queen.“ His words achingly soft and genuine.

“After the babe is born. I promise to take you to Siodonna.” He murmured against her neck, his warm breath sending chills down her spine.

The word piqued her Interest. Damian had mentioned it several times while narrating tales of his ancestors and foreign lands he wished to explore. It’s said to be so beautiful it took your breath away. The Homeland of his grandmother, lady Shyla, who came from the tribe of Four Winds. Faraway land of the gray wind and freedom. The city of Sidhe rumored to be built high in the sacred mountains of Rudrà.

“Truly?” Rhachel asked with glee in her voice. She covered her mouth with her hand to hide a hearty laughter when Damian nodded solemnly.

Oh Gods, how she longed for the freedom to roam where she pleased with her husband. To have some time for themselves away from court and royal duties. It won’t be long. It won’t be long before their babe is born.

He gazed at her, his expression bore a twinkling smile. “You have my word.”

“You wish for a boy or girl?” The question slipped past unguarded lips. She never worried about the gender of her child before but the Azarathian queens gave birth to girls as the mystical gifts were inherited only by women. Perhaps Damian wanted a son as any ruler wanted a male heir.

His brows raised at the sudden question. For a beat appeared to be genuinely considering how to answer when he merely shrugged. “A healthy child.”

“Damian...” She pressed as nervousness palpitated in her chest. Chewing on her lower lip as she usually did when distressed. “What if it’s a girl?”

His furrowed his brows. “What would you like to name it if it’s a girl?” It shouldn’t have surprised her that he wanted to have her opinion on the name, but it did. She hadn’t thought about it.

“Manon.” The young woman answered. Would Damian like the name for their child? She envisioned a little girl with silver tresses and golden skin as the sun’s rays, and bright emerald eyes as the man she loved. “In my homeland it means blessed child.”

Damian smiled in content. “Our child is surely a blessing.”

“If it’s a boy, you can name it.” She ventured.

Damian breathed out a sigh. “Grandfather would want a strong name like Ra’ miel.” Rhachel immediately frowned. She was not entirely sure she wanted their child named after a past Al Ghul king as some of them did not have particularly great reigns. His green eyes flicked down to her belly, fingers caressing fondly and his smile widened. “We can think of one together when the times comes.”

“Boy or girl, it does not matter.” Damian’s orbs were twin pools of tenderness and awe. He tapped the tip of her nose affectionately. “I shall love any child you bear.”

A radiant smile graced Rhachel’s features, heart overflowing with joy at the declaration. The future seemed more hopeful, the weight of worry lifted off her chest. Damian was right; it did not matter if she gave birth to a boy or girl. This was the fruitful result of their love and sole heir to the Al Ghul throne. . Azar please grant your protection to this child of mine, the princess prayed in silence, her hand on her abdomen.

Yooooo. Have some damirae dorm your favorite teacup. 👀👀👀👀

I wrote this sleep-deprived so there’s probably mistakes but I’ll edit soon. This is for the damirae week.

Babies and Damirae fluff and shadows of thorns. Clarifying this is not a chapter but a Spin-off. I tried to avoid including spoilers. 🙈🙈🙈💜💜

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[christinaroseandrews]

So we watched The Ten Commandments on ABC on Saturday night and decided to do a livetweeting. Because why not?

But if you missed the livetweeting, well, here you go! This will include the tweets in text form (for ease of reading), neatened up a bit. Some of them also ended up in side threads, so...here they are, all together!

1) Okay for shits and giggles the Pagan with the History major and the Jew with a Religion Major are gonna be #LiveBlogging the #TenCommandments because it's fun. That's why. Expect snark about everything from the costumes to the weirdness.

2) I always forget Yvonne de Carlo is in this. So it's always a shock when Lily Munster shows up in this.

3) I fully think this movie would be improved if she appeared dressed like this:

4) Love the stock video of the clouds.

5) So baby Moses is Charlton Heston's son. That's one way to do Take Your Child to Work Day.

6) This is some hella clunky exposition. My editor's brain is going to find a better way to do this.

7) Is it just me or does the whole "the star heralds his birth" read as a rewrite of the Christmas story?

8) Last I checked, Ancient Egypt didn't have granny panties under their robes. Or spandex.

9) Like this secret isn't going to come back to bite everyone in the ass.

10) I love that the attendant can recognize exactly which group of Hebrews the cloth belongs to. Like why would she pay attention to that?

11) Okay but, Yul Brynner is a total thirst trap. Although I keep waiting for him to start saying "Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera."

12) Okay but, I want to know where they got California Poppies in Egypt.

13) Hollywood casting: the woman who plays Moses's adoptive mother is younger than the man who plays Moses. *facepalm*

14) Okay but I'm seriously cringing during this whole Ethiopian Tribute segment. Like... whoa.

15) "You conquered us so have our most valuable possession!" Seriously, it's terrible.

16) So the height difference was so great between Yul Brynner and Charlton Heston that they tended to put Yul on a whole stair higher so they would look like they were the same height.

17) Or Two. It's pretty noticeable once you know to look for it.

18) I love all this talk about the Deliverer, I'm expecting them all to break out into Prince of Egypt's "Deliver Us."

19) Oh look, it's time for a Deus Ex Machina. Because of course Moses saves his own mother.

20) Oh Look, it's Vincent Price. I am now waiting for Dracula to show up.

21) The brownface is pretty cringey in this. Like seriously cringey.

22) Yul Brynner is the only PoC in this so far. (He's Russian of Mongol descent and born in Vladivostok.) Not that anyone knew that at the time. Also, there is a distinct lack of Jewish people in this. This will be a problem later. Spoilers.

23) Amendment... major speaking role... the Ethiopians were there and the princess did speak... to make eyes at brownface Charlton Heston. But considering this is pre-Greek Egypt there should be more Brown and Black people in this.

24) Poor Anne Baxter got Sharon-Stone-d in this. Half her costumes are see-through -- pay attention and you'll see everything.

25) On the other hand, there is the very strong positive of all the male eye candy. Lots and lots of attractive shirtless men.

26) I am seriously loving the polyester on the pharaoh's costume. A+ 1950s.

27) Is it just me or is that obviously a greenscreen? Or, well, a projection. Because pre-CGI.

28) Wait... is this supposed to be Seti I? You know the same Seti from The Mummy? If so, then where is Anck-Su-Namun and Imhotep?

29) If so... is the Nefretiri played by Anne Baxter supposed to be the same Nefertiri played by Rachel Weisz? Where's my Hamunaptra? Dude... These are important questions.

30) Also can we all agree that that Brendan Fraser > Charlton Heston?  

31) On the one hand, Moses was the son of Levites, so they got that right. On the other hand, why do both the Egyptian servant woman and Nefretiri recognize that it specifically belongs to a Levite? Why would they know that much about their slaves?

32)  Also, Nefretiri, dropping it where you stand was incredibly stupid if you're trying to hide the truth. Cause that's not going to come back to bite you. *facepalm*

33) The Melodrama in this is on point! I can almost hear the old timey piano and see the twirling handlebar mustache.

34) Also seriously, Moses's mother was named Jochebed/Yocheved (the latter is closer to the Hebrew pronunciation, the former is in the King James Bible). Not Yoshebel which is what they're saying. Come on, guys.

35) So it pisses me TF off that Moses just tosses his adoptive mother away like she didn't raise him and love him. And he like literally loved her until like 5 minutes ago. This is an insult to adoptive parents and children everywhere.

36) Also the whole thing with God's name is wrong. See, we don't know the pronunciation of God's name NOW. But they did back then! The High Priest said God's name every Yom Kippur! And the High Priest was literally descended from Aaron, so it's AFTER this.

37) Sadly, this is only one of many examples on why they, you know, maybe should've asked a Jewish person to work on this film.

38) Is it just me or does this bit about slaves working sound like the narration in March of the Penguins or that sort of documentary?

39) Lark: I'm going to bow out. I don't want to watch this part.  Rose: But I don't want to watch this part. You watch it. Lark: I said it first! Both of us do not like the section where Moses is a slave because he is TSTL.

40) The hotness of shirtless!Charlton Heston is unfortunately tempered by his NRA-Assholery and his severe homophobia (see: Ben Hur).

41) You can see the hand/fingerprints of the makeup artists where they artistically smeared mud exactly on the right spots on Charlton Heston's chest and arms. Can't have mud messing up his face after all!

42) There's a fucking zipper on the back of Nefretiri's teal outfit. Last I checked, zippers didn't exist in 3000 BCE!

43) Why the hell is Lilia wearing wedges and gold lamé? Go home, costume department, you're drunk.

44) And we've now entered the homoerotic BDSM portion of this movie.

45) The makeup department had fun drizzling raspberry sauce on Joshua.

46) Last I checked, gold sequins didn't exist in Ancient Egypt!

47) The costume department really skimped on those dancers. Green polyester and blond hair showing under the dark wigs.

48) Seriously, his mom is still being his mom...and she's wearing wedges. Silver fucking wedges.

49) Rose: Is it bad that this scene is making me want a Moses/Ramses/Nefretiri threesome? Lark: Nope! It's very "stop it, I'm already bi!"

50) We are not okay with the Black attendants here. [Later note: due to the severe racism exhibited by the Black people only being attendants and being treated that way.]

51) That dress is way too close to her skintone. As in, unless the camera is really close, it doesn't really look like she's wearing anything.

52) Why are you walking during the day, Moses? Find some shade and wait 'til dusk and dawn!

53) Sephora (should be Tzipporah, but hello no Jews) and her sisters: color coded for your convenience!

54) Moses: I want something to drink, not have my feet washed. These sisters are THIRSTY for Charlton Heston. Also, seriously, Jesus imagery much?

55) Jethro's necklace looks like turquoise. We didn't know turquoise was native to the Sinai. /sarcasm(Edit note: Turns out it was back in 3000 BCE -- The more you know!!!)

56) Hey, Moses, you're not a runaway slave if you're let go by the people who enslaved you!

57) We will now have the bellydancing portion of this movie.

58) 1) Mount Sinai is surrounded by other mountains, including taller ones, so it won't stand out like that. 2) Mount Sinai isn't a volcano. 3) If there are clouds about Mount Sinai, they move. (edit note: also the location of Mt. Sinai is disputed so there’s that too.)

59) Nefertiri's bangs are on point. I am definitely getting "Ask a Mortician" vibes from her.

60) Doggy doggy doggy doggy doggy!

61) Those are some really shiny chains considering how far he came.

62) Lark: How is he able to see the burning bush from where he was if he has to climb this far? It's DAY! And it's in the rocks! Rose: Magic.

63) The Voice of God will also be played by Charlton Heston. So we have Charlton Heston talking to...Charlton Heston.

64) The makeup and hair department had a LOT of fun with the canned gray hair.

65) "Your God is my God" -- great, now we're grabbing from the Book of Ruth.

66) We are entering the portion where Rose will take over the angry tweeting and Lark will just sit back and make snarky commentary about the costuming.

67) Cheat out, Charlton Heston! Cheat out!

68) It's all about the gold lamé. And wearing a cape so I can hide the zipper.

69) Does the smell of myrrh scent her skin? Well I should fucking hope not considering myrrh was used to hide the scent of death! Come on guys, do research on ancient Egypt.

70) We don't want to have to figure out how to show all the plagues so we're just going to skip over them. (Though I must admit the blood in the water was well-done.)

71) Ah, it's time for "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned".

72) At least there are multiple women with actual roles. Even if it's not technically a Bechdel test pass?

73) So they're not going into how they know about the lamb's blood. That...should be mentioned maybe?

74) Okay, seriously, the Passover seder is to COMMEMORATE this night! "Why is this night different from all other nights?" comes LATER. Time for the "just hire a freaking Jew!" rant.

75) Lark: why is no one sitting on the other side of the table?

76) Why is he calling her Bithia? She RAISED him. She's mom! Sigh.

77) Also, why aren't you offering Bithia's Black...slaves? Servants? A place at the table.

78) "Why do we eat unleavened bread and bitter herbs, my uncle?" ...Because we're remembering the night you're LITERALLY HAVING RIGHT NOW. The unleavened bread DOESN'T EXIST YET OH MY FREAKING GOD.

79) I'm just sitting here because NO. Like they literally haven't left yet! The matzah hasn't been baked! They're commemorating TOMORROW at this point!

80) The seder didn't exist! You shouldn't be having a seder right now, guys. Seriously.

81) I will say this: for 1956, the special effects are actually really good.

82) So Pharaoh is explicitly exempted from the death of the first born even though he is a first born so he can, you know, suffer more, but...they should've stated it in the movie.

83) Don't blame her, you asshole, you were already hardened against him!

84) "He's my only son." Well, that's your fault, isn't it?

85) Love how the "dead" kid is still moving his arm to help his dad get it into position.

86) Alert! Alert! We have actual Egyptians in this scene!

87) Getting really really sick of this exposition narration. It is bad storytelling.

88) The camel: I want that. I am going to eat your dates. Mine!

89) Oh my god he's throwing gold to the crowd. That's...probably not the best way to deal with it.

90) Did they borrow costumes from The Conqueror? We've got a bit of Genghis Khan going on here.

91) Maybe not have the Black people carrying the white "Egyptian" woman? That...is bad.

92) Okay, the kid sleeping on top of the...animal? And the guy carrying the donkey. Those are great.

93) Though that donkey is possibly dead, so...why?

94) Somebody tell the kid to hold his breath!

95) That is one big blue helmet.

96) So how many of these chariots were later reused in Ben Hur?

97) Oooh, more actual Egyptians! (In this case, the Egyptian Army was used for the chariots.)

98) The clouds are actually moving this time!

99) Where's the #EverGiven to bridge the Red Sea?

100) That is clearly cartoon fire, but the parting of the Red Sea is a pretty damn impressive effect. And don't forget to pose for the poster!

101) The kids are the best part in this scene. Whether they're sleeping or playing or with the animals or whatever.

102) There's gotta be some really confused fish right about now. And some pretty annoyed mollusks and crustaceans. And the coral must be really pissed off.

103) Also, we want to know how they're not sinking up to their armpits in sea gunk. That's some really impressive dry ground there -- and surprisingly devoid of fish poop.

104) Bring him to me alive! I must have him for more homoerotic torture! And my threesome!

105) Honestly I am with the Egyptian guys who look terrified of those walls of water. Like, I would be noping the fuck out of there if I were them.

106) And we've gone full Gandalf. You shall not pass!

107) Those poor horses. :( I always feel sorry for the horses.

108) No more Yul Brynner or Anne Baxter and this movie is made lesser for it. :( Who will quench my thirst now?

109) Time to fastforward through the rest of the Torah!

110) Okay, at least Dathan acknowledges that Bithia IS his mother. By the way, what happened to Yoshebel? Or however they're spelling it. Dude, did Moses's birth mother just disappear?

111) And we finally get to the whole point of the damn movie! It's time for the Ten Commandments! And we have less than fifteen minutes left in the entire movie. 4 1/2 hours in, we're finally getting to the name of the movie.

112) This woman is shining the golden calf with her *hair*

113) Time for the orgy portion of the movie!

114) Couldn't you just wait for 40 days? Honestly, after #COVID19 I no longer doubt that.

115) Those are some really light stone tablets. He's carrying them like they're made out of the styrofoam that the props are actually made of.

116) Bad Aaron! Bad Moses's brother! And yet somehow he's the only one of the siblings who makes it into the holy land. Clearly no good deed goes unpunished.

117) Stand there for the glamour shot! Do the other pose for the poster! Joshua, darling, get out of the way.

118) Somehow Moses has aged like 40 years in this movie while Joshua has aged about two.

119) "Oh shit, Dad's home!"

120) Where is Moses's son? His wife came back, but where's his son?

121) It's SUPER BEARDY Charlton Heston.

122) "Damn it, if you won't play by my rules, I'm going to pull this car over and we are going to STAY HERE until you kids get your shit together!"

123) Okay guys, hide that ark. Nazis are going to want to steal it later.

124) Okay, we have Aaron's son -- where's Moses's? Clearly he is Sir Not Appearing In This Movie Anymore.

125) Excuse me while I pose dramatically in front of this painting.

126) We hope you enjoyed this liveblogging of the #TenCommandments!

If you enjoyed it, please drop a tip in our Kofi!

[angstymdzsthoughts]

wangxian loveless au where during that one drunken night wwx and lwj slept together and wwx didnt come out of the situation unscathed. he began having nauseous bouts and experiencing fatigue and after a couple months his stomach grew bigger. he's absolutely terrified bc not only are he and lan zhan just 16 and 17, he would absolutely bring shame to yunmeng jiang if people knew their lead disciple got pregnant out of wedlock like some common whore.

if there is anything more strange than ruckus in the cloud recesses, it is wei wuxian being silent and obedient. it has been a couple months since something just changed in wei wuxian like a switch being flipped and he just.. stopped being a troublemaker. he stopped talking back to the lan teachers, stopped sneaking out at night, stopped nipping at lan wangji's heels and giving jiang cheng headaches. instead he gives jc a different kind of headache with how skittish and mousy he acts. wwx still does well in his studies and sword practice, but he's a lot less reckless, a lot less free, a lot less wei wuxian, and jiang cheng can already feel his a-jie and father's disappointment weighing on his shoulders.

wwx uses talismans after talismans to conceal his growing bulge and with the thick winter robes, no one suspected a thing. he just has to be a lot more careful and avoid the healers at all costs, lest they find out about his secret. instead of going out and hunting pheasants, he spends his free time reading huaisang's romantic novels and keeps a sketch book filled with his everyday paintings. lan qiren is equal parts content, intrigued, and horrified. if his teachers couldn't manage to keep changse still, what had he done so terribly wrong to make the boy change so abruptly?

lan wangji got his peaceful silence back. wei wuxian had been mildly entertaining for a while, but now that he's gotten bored of getting rebuffed, he had stopped and lan wangji didn't miss it too much. lan xichen is a little disappointed that wei wuxian didnt manage to crack down wangji's walls, but it would be unfair to expect the boy to do so for him.

before they knew it, the snow is thick in the cloud recesses and the disciples were let to retire earlier in the evening. their study would soon end when the frost melts. wwx slipped out of his room when he felt the contractions coming. the moon hung high, its light illuminating the serene white and lan xichen went on his night patrol shift as usual. he was walking on one of the watch towers when his tranquil was broken by a muffled shriek of pain.

wei ying stumbled into an empty room, doubling in pain and hurriedly put on silencing talismans. the pain and pressure seemed to last forever and when its over, a shrill cry brought much anticipated relief.

wei wuxian picked the baby- his baby- off the floor, shielded only by his hastily discarded outer robe from the cold wooden floor. the baby is laid on his chest, blood and slime staining his white robes but wei wuxian doesn't see anything past the scrunched little face and he couldn't believe he had ever thought of getting rid of this being in his arms. he only got a short tender moment before the door slammed open and to his horror, zewu-jun staring at him with mirrored terror on his face.

lan xichen followed the sounds and found himself in front of an empty classroom. the door pulsed with spiritual energy and he could tell the silencing talisman put on was only half installed. he raised his hand to knock and- is that a baby's cry? his hand moved itself and slammed the door open. "wei gongzi?!" wei wuxian laid on the floor, the bottom of his robes open and in his hold is a tiny wailing baby still connected to him through the umbilical cord.

"ze-zewu-jun, i-" wei wuxian clutched the baby tighter to his chest, as if afraid lan xichen is going to take him away. "please let me help you," the older interrupted, shuffling in to begin helping wei wuxian. he took out spare cloths from his qiankun pouch and wrapped them around the boy and his baby. wei wuxian couldn't look at lan xichen. no wonder he has been laying low, if he's keeping such a secret.

poor boy, did someone force him? is that why he had to hide? "wei gongzi, are you-" his hand accidentally brushed over the meridian on the child's head and felt a familiar signature. the baby is a lan. wei wuxian's eyes goes wider if that was possible. lan xichen tugged slightly to reveal the baby's face. his tiny golden eyes are open and all xichen could see was wangji's childhood face. wangji's son, oh god wei wuxian gave birth to wangji's son.

but how did wangji ever- it can't be- wangji drunkenly bedded wei wuxian and now he has a son! lan xichen trembled and stood. "zewu-jun?" the first jade just ran, but not before slapping on a silencing and locking talisman on the room. "zewu-jun, i can explain!"

.

class was cancelled the next day. not with lan qiren so close to a qi deviation with the news from xichen that wangji has a son, just born last night and by a guest disciple, no less! he sent wei wuxian along with his baby into seclusion, telling jiang cheng that his shixiong sneaked out again and will be put into solitary for a few days. immediate invitation was sent to jiang fengmian and yu ziyuan, insisting that it is urgent that both of them come.

lan wangji stands in front of the room wei wuxian is detained in. he had been content with uncle and brother as family. it never crossed his mind that he would get married or have a child- much less with wei wuxian. but the boy is in this room right now, with a child that is his. his son. he should come in- should at least see the child. he should take responsibility, even if he didn't mean to. he shouldn't push his son onto someone else, he shouldn't-

"lan zhan? is that you?" wei wuxian's voice sounded nervous. he probably saw lan wangji's shadow in front of his door. "i- can i come in?" lan wangji replied hesitantly. "please do," he answered.

lan wangji opened the door and stood face to face with wei wuxian, whose usual mischievous expression is replaced entirely with one full of worry and guilt. "lan z-, lan wangji, i'm sorry," he started.

the second jade didn't know what to answer and they stood in silence. "i'm here to see the baby," he began, cursing himself for sounding colder than he intended. "of course.." wei wuxian led him inside, to his bed where the sleeping baby is swathed in thick white blankets provided by zewu-jun.

wangji does see himself in the baby, and for a split second he hated it more than anything. "what is his name?"

wei wuxian doesn't answer. "wei- wei ying?" he was instead staring at the baby. "oh- i'm sorry. what did you say?"

"his name?"

"baobao doesn't have a name yet. i don't know.."

-------

yu ziyuan's face is red with anger. behind her jiang fengmian is filled with worry. of course that no good son of a servant will churn yet another trouble that will bring smear to the yunmeng jiang name all because jiang fengmian has always been too useless and too soft to discipline him properly. lan qiren and lan xichen was already waiting for them.

"sect leader lan, zewu-jun," she greeted them.

"madam yu, sect leader jiang," lan xichen bowed back. "please come inside. we have.. important matter to discuss,"

she notices the silence talisman plastered wall to wall in the meeting room and she could only wonder what had happened for the lans to need such discretion. the tension between them was so thick it could be cut with a knife. "what has that brat done now? i swear if he continues to be unruly i will whip him with zidian until he repents," yu ziyuan started.

lan qiren chokes on his tea a little bit. "that would be unnecessary, madam yu," xichen winced, " i believe it would be highly inappropriate to subject him to corporal punishments considering his.. delicate condition right now,"

"delicate..? is a-xian sick? is that why you called us here? then- can we see him now?" of course jiang fengmian would worry about that useless boy first before he ever thinks about her son. "shut it, jiang fengmian!" yu ziyuan barked. "i bet you he just fell from the mountain and broke his bones while sneaking out to do god knows what! this is the boy you keep spoiling! that good for nothing son of a servant!"

lan qiren and lan xichen both shriveled in their seats at her tone. what happened to wei wuxian was much, much worse. "madam yu," lan xichen tried. "wei wuxian.. gave birth to a son two nights ago,"

yu ziyuan's face flashed an angry shade of red, then white, and then green before she shred the table in front of her into splinters. "he.. gave birth?"

lan xichen solemnly nodded.

the chuckle that left her mouth terrified everyone in that room. lan qiren tried his best to not vomit blood. "don't tell me, that boy now has a kid.. like some whore?"

lan qiren looked at jiang fengmian. the man's face was paper white and tongue-tied. he pitied him, having to bear the brunt of yu ziyuan's wrath on top having to process this information.

"does he even know who the father is? or did he sleep with everyone in gusu?"

"third madam!"

lan xichen looked like he is going to start crying, so lan qiren chimed in.

"the father is wangji,"

.

the negotiation was dreadful. jiang fengmian tried to get wei wuxian and his baby to go back to lotus pier. yu ziyuan refused to bring that disgrace back to lotus pier. lan qiren insisted that wei wuxian and lan wangji must marry, now that their child is the third heir to gusu lan. news will be let out that the lead disciple of yunmeng jiang and the second young master of lan had been engaged for a while and will soon marry. their altercations during the length of the study had just been because they had an ongoing squabble. the child will be announced one year after his actual birth.

lan wangji chose the name lan yuan for his son, which his uncle and brother approved. wei wuxian's heart fell that they never asked for his opinion on the name.

wei wuxian had to go back to yunmeng jiang when the disciples disperse after their year's study. he couldn't bring baobao to lotus pier without alerting everyone and wei wuxian never cried harder than when he had to part with his baby for the first time. even jiang cheng couldn't console him. he endured the torture for two months. two torturous months without his baby where madam yu only spoke in a cold tone and his shijie's soup no longer comforted him. the last two months yunmeng jiang would ever be his home.

the expensive red robes hang heavy on him. everyone congratulated him on his marriage but all wei wuxian felt is cold. he couldn't look at lan wangji without knowing that he forced the second jade to a marriage he didn't want. lan wangji couldn't look at wei wuxian without wondering what if it had been someone else, someone he had consented to marry. they live in the jingshi, but sleep in different bedrooms. their interactions are polite at best. wei wuxian spends his time cultivating and inventing talismans while raising his son, and lan wangji spends his time cultivating and attending to sect duties.

lan yuan grows to be a smart and strong disciple who excels among his peers. no wonder, people say, his parents are two of the most powerful cultivators of their generation. lan xichen replies to comments of 'lan yuan looks so grown up already' with 'my nephew is tall for his age'. he will no doubt become a fine sect leader one day, people say.

lan wangji and wei wuxian are married, everyone knows that, but they never act like they are. they act like parents to their son, but never like spouses to each other. gusu lan's no gossipping rule never stopped people from talking. lan yuan knows that he is older than his classmates. lan yuan knows why he barely ever see his parents together. he knows they love him, of course, but they don't love each other.

poor lan yuan, people say, trapped in his parents' loveless marriage.

lan yuan knows that he is trapped between a father whose anger kept simmering at having to marry someone he didn't want and a mother who felt like his marriage was a mistake.

[blackstonesandtrapnest]

Drunk In Love

Since NANA Week is here, I figured it would be the perfect time to post this amazing songfic starring Shin and one of my OCs for NANA who can be found here!

The song that I used for this is Drunk In Love by Beyonce and Jay-Z which you can listen to here! I hope you enjoy! Also just to clarify, Shin is indeed aged up for obvious reasons!

How the hell did this shit happen?

Gwendolyn woke up in her kitchen of all places and she was only in her panties. But she wasn't alone. Someone was laying beside her. Shinichi Okazaki. The bassist for the band Blast. Who was only wearing a bathrobe. Feeling weak and shaky, Gwendolyn immediately rushed to her bedroom and grabbed her glucose monitor to test her blood sugar. Being a Type 1 diabetic was quite the pain in the ass sometimes. Seeing that her levels were low, Gwendolyn immediately went for her sweet stash which she had hidden away in her closet for times like these. As she ate some cookies, she took off the underwear and put on a silk bathrobe along with a new pair of panties. As Gwendolyn began to feel better and checked her blood sugar again, she could hear Shin entering the room. How in the hell could he not be hung over considering how much he had to drink last night?

"You ok baby girl?" Shin asked as he walked over to Gwen and sat down on her bed. That boy was just so damn irresistible to her! He was like an addiction that she needed to have where ever, whenever, however. Shin made Gwen feel alive.

"I've been drinking, I've been drinking. You know I'm not supposed to be drinking Shin." Gwendolyn avoided drinking since she was a diabetic and last night was the first time she had any kind of alcohol. Good thing Gwendolyn had her first drinks over at Nana and Hachi's place where dinner was also being served so her blood sugar didn't crash while she was drinking. Before Gwendolyn went there, she was at a club with BLAST, dancing and having a good time with Shin whom she had gotten quite close to since she had been selected to dance in BLAST's latest Music Video which was scheduled to release today.

"I don't see why you shouldn't. You get filthy when that liquor gets into you. I like it. All I could think about was how you couldn't keep your fingers off me. I didn't know you wanted me so much."

Gwendolyn's face was on fire as she turned away from Shin, completely embarrassed as she recalled last night's escapade that apparently lasted all night. Good thing she was on birth control as she could NOT afford having a kid right now. She was still in college for God's sakes!

"Shut up Shin! I felt like an animal with those cameras all up in my grill! Flashing Lights, flashing lights! Last thing I remember is our beautiful bodies grinding up in that club."

Once everyone had gotten back to Nana and Hachi's apartment, Hachi already had a large dinner prepared to celebrate the music video and it was a large feast to behold! When the drinks came out, shit started to get real. Gwendolyn was adamant about not drinking any alcohol but Shin was a persistent son of a bitch. But he did make sure that the drinks were sweet and that she had plenty of food per her request.

"Don't forget the living room too. And the kitchen. Wanna add the bedroom to that too?" Shin purred seductively as he scooted closer to the edge of the bed and grabbed Gwendolyn's ass before smacking it. In response, she whirled around and huffed in annoyance. "You insatiable pervert! What is it with you and my behind?!" Shin was  a rather touchy person when it came to Gwendolyn and he wasn't afraid to show just how much he loved her curvy body despite her insecurities about it.

"Don't act so shy now Gwen. Where's all that mouth that you had last night? Time to back it up sweet thing. I wanna see all the shit that I heard."

Shin wrapped his arms around Gwendolyn's waist and pulled her into his lap, causing her to squeal. "Shin what the hell?!" Gwendolyn was silenced by Shin's lips covering her own in a kiss that one could only describe as intoxicating. The next thing she knew, Shin was on top of Gwen, hastily taking off her robe and tossing it to god knows where.

Seeing the sexy panties that Gwen had on made Shin quite impatient. He simply slid them right to the side, not having the time to take them off on sight.

Shin was quite the vigorous lover and how he didn't catch a charge for beating the box up like Mike Tyson in 1997 was beyond Gwen's understanding but she was experiencing too much ecstasy to give a damn. It was like Shin was Ike Turner and Gwen was Anna Mae with the way he was making her suck his dick. But she wouldn't have it any other way.

After all, Gwen was drunk in love.

[trisanachandlers]

I read Wild Magic really fast and here are all my thoughts on THAT:

the only thing this book is missing for which there is NO excuse is Raoul. 5/5 stars. needs more Raoul. that is my entire review

I had forgotten how deeply I love these books and these characters, including and perhaps especially Numair? and by “these books”, to be clear, I mean Wild Magic, Wolf Speaker, and Emperor Mage, you know, the Immortals trilogy

Ok that’s my whole review I’m actually done now

just kidding

Honestly make Daine like 5 years older so she’s 17-18 at the beginning and 20-21 at the end and like... it’s fine. I wouldn’t mind. It’s still not great but it’s okay. That’s my take, that in fact if/when Immortals gets adapted I will be fine with Daine/Numair as long as she is a young adult at the beginning when they meet instead of a literal 13-year-old. Just do what g*me of thr*nes did with Daenerys in the beginning! it’s fine!

haha daine and daenerys. dainerys. haha

mother of dragons haha wait a minute -

HOLD ON JUST ONE SECOND HERE

these books predate a s*ng of *ce and f*re I’m just saying

I forgot Onua was like at least in her 40s (based on she’s been working with horses for 28 years) and like she’s a cool early-middle-aged lady with a no-nonsense attitude who wanders the wilderness with her dog? oh boy is 23-year-old lesbian me into THAT, conceptually, in a way kid me was not so much yet

of course everyone is gay but YOU KNOW WHO’S GAY? MIRI. THIS IS MIRI’S INTRODUCTORY PARAGRAPH:

“She had dark hair cut boyishly short and a pair of dancing green eyes. With a tip-tilted nose, a cleft chin, and a dusting of freckles, she looked like pure mischief.”

GAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know things were not exactly the same in the 1990s as they are now but this is just every single late millennial/gen z queer I have ever met in my entire life

anyway

Just generally it is very cool how many more women are in this book, because as much as I love Jon (usually) and Raoul and George and Myles and Thom and Coram and and and, up until Thayet and Buri showed up in Lioness Rampant there were like... not a lot of women who were around very much in SotL and it’s just very nice that in this book the cast is much closer to even

“Let’s only name our plot-relevant children after our dead relatives whom readers will remember from the last book,” the friends all agreed collectively

Can you imagine Maude’s face when Alanna was presumably like “Maude, I have a favor to ask of you. I’ve just had a son, and I hope you’ll come help me take care of him as you raised my brother and me. I’ve named him after Thom and he has the Gift” Maude: oh gods FUCKING help us all

anyway I love Roald, Kally, and Thom so much and I wish there was more of all of them in the books but especially Kally? like we do get plenty of Roald development in Protector and there’s a little of grownup Thom in Trickster but Kally agrees to not go for her shield and be a princess and a healer instead and then goes to Carthak to marry Kaddar when she grows up and where is that quartet, dammit

Speaking of Thoms, I assume Alanna meeting Arram went something like this:

Arram: hello

Alanna: oh fuck. ok everyone out of the way, let me handle this, I’m the expert on dealing with vain and overconfident magical prodigies around here as I have trained literally since the moment of my birth and you guys sure royally fucked it up when I was gone last time so I’m adopting this overgrown puppy of a mage. he is mine now. I will not be hearing objections good day

Arram: ... okay cool!

I have so many questions about the timeline of Numair’s backstory that make me think I need to reread Tempests & Slaughter before I go any further because if he’s 25 in this book (for some reason I always thought he was 14 years older than Daine, not 12, turns out I was wrong about that) and he’s been in Tortall doing his thing for 5 years that means everything with Ozorne and the multiple years of being homeless and on the run (as well as becoming a Black Robe!) all happened before he was 20, and I do not remember how old he was at the end of Tempests & Slaughter and the wiki is deeply unhelpful on that cause apparently no one has updated it since that book was published???? I guess I could fix that but my first day of my second semester of law school is tomorrow so I’m not going to

I want Cate Blanchett to voice the mom dragon and that is my one (1) strong opinion on tv show casting that I have developed from rereading these books so far

I also think whoever plays Roger should voice the kraken, just to make viewers go “wait... no. wait. what? no. what?”, because it would be fun

Actually the 10-year time skip makes me really question how they’d even include Song of the Lioness in a tv show (since Immortals + Protector pretty much run straight through), except that a) it’s kind of necessary to get that backstory in order for people watching to have the degree of attachment to all the adult characters in this book that readers do, and b) I guess the Numair books should fill in the gap basically right? but also because the Lioness and Protector books are so inconsistently paced (4:4:1:1 years for SotL, 1:3:4:1 years roughly for PotS) I don’t know how they’d pace out seasons and obviously if they tried to adapt it all and keep about 1 season for every 2 years or so they’d end up with like. 20 seasons total which, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

anyway I really really love Numair and I’m very angry about how thoroughly that love is going to get destroyed a few books from now

[comfymommy]

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[chershare]

Snippet from Discord 25

"Okay," setting down his brush carefully, Mo Xuanyu studied the talismans he'd painted. "Would you mind looking over this one, Wen Qionglin?"

The man in question pressed a cup of hot tea into Mo Xuanyu's thin, ink stained hands before leaning over his work. His long hair was currently hanging free and smelled like the freshly cut wood he'd chopped earlier. It was silky as it brushed coolly over Xuanyu's cheek and he flushed automatically as he ducked his head.

Over the past couple of weeks he'd been becoming more and more aware of how casually they had been touching each other. It was startling how long it had taken him to notice, but now that he had he couldn't stop noticing.

Pressing his lips together Mo Xuanyu sat back a little further and ducked his head.

It didn't - he didn't think it had to mean anything, and even if it did, pressing his luck wasn't in his nature. He'd take what was given and be as polite as possible the rest of the he time.

Otherwise, maybe it would stop.

"Ah, this one!" As if to spite the space that he'd put between them - not that Wen Qionglin had spite - the man sat back into Mo Xuanyu's side. His heart beat heavy in his chest, smile helpless on his face. "This one reminds me of one of Wei-gongzi's projects."

That pale but now beloved face full of kindness smiled down at him and really, Mo Xuanyu was lost to it.

"Like Yiling Laozu?" Blinking as he registered the words, he looked down at the talisman in his companion's hand. "Do you think this design would be the best one to improve upon?"

Wen Qionglin hummed as he handed the inked paper to Mo Xuanyu, leaning further into his space again, soft cool hair fluttering with the scent of wood. The clothing or his robes was rougher than the ones he insisted that Mo Xuanyu wear, but sturdy over a powerful, impossible frame.

"I think that Wei-gongzi didn't have enough time to work on improving the technique that gave me back my spiritual cognition," was spoken softly, the Ghost General absently cradling the backs of his hands. "And that if anyone can find out how to change things he didn't have the time to, it's Mo Xuanyu."

Cheeks flushing deeper as his trembling, too sweet smile widened he ducked his head and lifted the papers to his face to hide. Arms curled over his thinner frame, and while Wen Qionglin wasn't warm, really, but his Qi was a riot of distant heat and roughly contained resentment. A cheek pressed against the crown of Mo Xuanyu's head where he no longer wore a ornamental headpiece, and despite his embarrassment, he leaned into the strong arms.

"Is this okay?" The gentle, compassionate man asked. "Can we have this?"

Mo Xuanyu but his lip and turned his face towards this Fierce Corpse who had treated him more kindly and gently than anyone else ever had. Who had protected him as promised and never belittled him for the circumstances of his birth.

Who would sit in blissful content as Mo Xuanyu brushed his hair to put it up. Smile when the latest culinary experiment gave him an almost sensation and insist that Mo Xuanyu would get it next time. Spending some days not cultivating at all and simply planting turnips to take to market someday and trade for various tools and everyday items.

He thought of Wen Qionglin, who he was more than a little bit in love with.

"Yes," he said just as quietly, turning in that embrace to tuck his face against a cool throat. "This is more than okay. This is perfect."

"I'm glad. I really like being with Mo Xuanyu."

"I really like being with Wen Qionglin, too."

[crazyzaika]

Prophecy unguided  Chapter 1

Yes I know, I haven't finished the other things yet, but this is going to be short, so I thought I'd come around the corner, give a sign of life from me and see how the idea goes down.

Well then. Chapter 1. Tell me what you think.

Content: Lucy is a sacred witch. Already since her birth this very special prophecy exists. A fight she has to win and an enemy she has to defeat. But then fate intervenes and overturns all plans.

Rating: M

Genre: Romance, Drama, Violence, War

Pairings: NaLu(mainly), Hints on: Gajevy, Gruvia, Jerza, Bixanna, Annalogia

Have fun ♥

Greetings Z ♥

Chapter 1

Magic filled the air, letting her senses humming. Lucy sat up high in an empty temple hall. Frankincense and lavender filled the air, joined with her magic. Countless candles stood in the room, filled the air with their gentle scent, warming the room. She wore nothing but a white, floor-length robe. Coarsely woven fabric of linen. The long blond hair she wore open. She breathed deeply, felt the plucking of magic, felt the power of the ley lines. She stretched her mind and further impressions filled her senses. She could hear the soft scraping of the insects in the ground, heard worms eating their way through the earth. The tickle of the air on her skin as someone at the other end of the temple walked through the wide portal. Sweat beads stepped on her forehead as she stretched her mind even further.

Quiet voices reached her ears, the whispering of mice, the croaking of ravens. Then she heard the laughter of the people in the village, which was about 100 kilometres away. Her heartbeat quickened and she sank deeper into herself not to lose control. Smells reached her nose. The stench of alcohol, the smell of fatty fried meat, the seductive smell of fresh bread and fresh fruit and vegetables. The crying of children, the laughter of men and women. People who argued, laughed together or enjoyed each other. Slight heat rose into her cheeks, but Lucy concentrated a little more, expanded her senses further, stretched them further, extending her magic. Her body trembled under the strain of maintaining control, strengthening and expanding her magical abilities. Her heartbeat quickened under the physical strain. Sweat lay on her skin and her breathing increased, but she refused to stop.

This was so incredibly important. She had to be strong. Because if she wasn't, if she didn't take her task, her mission seriously, then they would be doomed. She knew that and without enough magic, without control she would be nothing. And so she stretched her senses even further, pushing herself to the limits of her physical strain. She woven magic into it and when she opened her inner gaze, it seemed as if she was looking down on the land. Infinite fields, small villages, big cities, magnificent, wide forests stretched into the horizon. Fine, luminous lines of pure, white magic permeated the land. She hummed a spell, the light around her sank and tiny dots flared up everywhere. Some stronger or weaker. They all had a different presence and she knew these were the people she had to protect. These were the people she would protect from destruction. That is what she was born for. A smile plucked at her lips and then an unknown smell entered her nose. Confusion gripped her senses and as she turned in that direction she felt a pull. Her heart made a bounce, began to beat faster than it already had, and then she raced across fields, forests, cities, until her journey suddenly ended abruptly.

A mighty magic filled the air, stretched out towards her. Confused, she pulled her eyebrows together, floated closer, wanted to pursue it. It felt as if someone was calling for her. As if she came home. And without knowing why, tears came to her eyes. She heard a deep, rough voice that dug deep into her heart, her soul. Her breath faltered, her throat tied together and she swallowed slightly.

Lucyanna.

She opened her eyes and slammed the back of her head on hard stone. Her breathing was hectic, almost panicking, and she felt her body twitching, cramping. The coarse linen stuck to her body like a second skin and her hair stuck to her head. She blinked hectically as she tried to stand up, but didn't really make it. Her body protested painfully, her arms trembled with exhaust. Then she felt the grip of strong hands that helped her up. She swallowed slightly, felt how dry her throat was and breathed in trembling. Her vision was clouded and her eyes were burning. Tears ran down her cheeks. Only vaguely did she hear someone call her name and slowly her senses returned. She blinked hectically again and she took Erza who was kneeling before her on the floor. She was also the one who called her name.

"Lucy ... are you all right? Jesus, you scared us", her voice was still unclear and dull, but Lucy finally understood what Erza said. Or rather screamed at her. She forced a smile on her lips although every muscle in her body protested. A rough, unfriendly throat rang out and as Lucy raised her eyes to the side, her eyes met those of her teachers. Grandmaster Makarov and the high witch Porlyusica. Both were about 500 years old. With time Makarov had become smaller, his once blonde hair had turned white and apart from the wild, unruly hair on his sides, his skull was bald. He wore a white, floor-length robe and a coat lined with fur, which made clear his high standing in the witch community. Porlyusica, on the other hand, was still tall and slender. Age seemed to have done little harm to her beauty. Her long hair was still a strong pink and only a few wrinkles indicated her old age. She wore a long dark blue dress, its hems lined with elaborate protective runes. A black belt on her hip held several bags in place and the candlelight made a delicate gold chain shimmer in her hair. But while Makarov's gaze seemed worried, her master's ruby eyes were angry and cold.

"Child! How many times have we told you not to go beyond your physical limits? Your body is still too young! You are still too young", that the older witch was angry, one clearly noticed to her. Her voice was louder than usual, anger swelling in her eyes and magic wafting around her. Lucy swallowed and gritted her teeth. Feelings of guilt surged inside her and she lowered her gaze. She just wanted to get stronger! She had to be strong, had to train to increase her strength.

"Porly, you know how she is," Makarov turned and a dark growl rolled from the witch's lips. She snorted.

"She is only 8 years old! She has a few years left. It's not like she doesn't do this every day. And I also acknowledge her willingness to learn and her determination, but it is no good to anyone if she overtakes herself and dies because of it. Erza, Juvia, Levy. Bring this stubborn brat into her room and force her to eat and rest if necessary. No more training for today. Is that clear?", the voice of the pinquette was unyielding and demanded absolute obedience. Lucy knew that she would not tolerate any contradiction and a rule break would be out of the question. She knew that, even if she would have preferred to continue. But she knew her limits and probably she would not even be able to get on her feet alone and without help. Accordingly she would do the devil and contradict her teacher or train behind her back. No matter how restless she felt herself.

"Yes ma'am", said the girls in the choir, ready to follow the very clear order. Silence descended across the room.

"Lucyanna Leila from Heartfilia! Do you understand me?"

She raised her eyes and blinked again, then nodded and felt the exhaustion and tiredness spread through her. She swallowed slightly. She didn't want to anger her master. Because she was the only one she still had. The only person who came closest to a mother. Sadness surged up in her, but she pushed these feelings and the dark thoughts away from her and nodded.

"Yes, ma'am”, the young girl said dutifully and smiled. Her friends helped her on her feet, as ordered, and Porlyusica dismissed the girls with a wave of her hand. Together they wandered through endless corridors, illuminated by magical flames, burning in large stone bowls and providing just enough light to find their way. Erza had put her left arm over her shoulder and Juvia her right arm over her shoulder and Lucy felt how much they supported her. Her knees felt like pudding and the young witch knew that she couldn't have taken a step without her friends. Levy followed the three and kept casting worried looks at Lucy. She also knew why. She knew that everyone here was worried about her, but she just couldn't help herself. How could she not? She didn't want humanity to be at the mercy of a murderous god. Not if it was her job to stop it. Not if she had the abilities.

The steps of the girls on the stone floor and Lucy's wheezing breath were the only sound that filled the air. Although the way to their chamber wasn't particularly far, it seemed to take an eternity for them to arrive right there. Guilt spread through the narrow blonde as Erza and Juvia helped her onto the bed, smiling but slightly sweaty. She bit her lower lip and felt the tingling of tears in her eyes. Her lower lip began to tremble and Lucy pulled her shoulders up.

"I-i-i'm sorry" she brought up falteringly and the other three stared at her with big eyes. They hadn't expected that. Lucy sniffed quietly and then the first tears rolled down her cheeks. Her body began to tremble.

"I-i-i a-am s-s-such a ... a burden", her words were only half understandable by the sniffing and her insecurity let her stutter. Fear and shame filled her senses and she didn't even dare to look into the eyes of her friends. Then many arms snaked around her and by the swing she was thrown backwards on the bed. Blue and red hair were in her field of vision while her friends hugged her.

"Lu-chan, we love you anyway, you fool," Levy said with tears in her brown eyes smiling with a trembling lower lip. Erza and Juvia also had tears in their eyes and nodded eagerly. Lucy sniffed harder and really started to cry, but returned the hug, which turned into a group snuggle. The girls lay tightly embraced in the bed, which was actually much too small for that.

.

.

.

"Nat-nii", the tender voice of his sister reached his ears and he turned towards her, pulled up both eyebrows, while a little girl with dark blue hair stumbled towards him. She was just four years old and reached barely to his knees. She wore a light blue dress that reached down to her knees and was fastened around her neck with a gold chain. She was barefoot and the soft clapping of skin on cool rock echoed from the walls. A broad grin spread on his lips and the light of the torches shimmered on his canines.

"Wendy", he squatted down to be at eye level with her. She beamed at him and embraced him clumsily. A deep laugh rumbled through his chest as he put his arms around the narrow body of his little sister. He was a good 130 years older than Wendy, but that didn't bother either of them. His big brothers Zeref and Ignia were 200 and 350 years older than him. And if he wasn't completely wrong, then his father Igneel was about 870 and his mother Grandeeney about 800 years old. But he never thought much about numbers, so he did not know that with absolute certainty. Wendy was the youngest and still a hatchling. She was so sweet, so innocent and always seemed quite clumsy. And even Zeref and Ignia, who were both rather coarse and often rather grim, became gentle with Wendy. No one could knock off her big chocolate brown eyes. He detached himself from her again, grinned at her broadly and fluffed through her blue hair.

"And, how was your day today?

"Igni-nii and Ze-nii played with me," she said and beamed at him with big eyes. The grin on his lips grew wide. Probably they had trained magic with her and made it look like a game. Because he could hardly imagine a real game. He knew that his brothers wanted to educate her to become a strong dragon. His parents hadn't said anything about it yet, especially since they had done the same to him and Natsu hadn't really been harmed so far.

"It was more training", the deep voice of his brother Ignia penetrated his ears and Natsu raised his eyes, the grin on his lips didn't go away for a second. He nodded slightly, as he had already thought. Wendy's quiet yawning attracted his attention and he pulled her in, wrapped an arm around her and rose with her, sat her on his hip. The little girl instinctively held on to him and leaned against him, a soft purr rolling up her throat as his body heat enveloped her. Natsu stroked her narrow neck, gently massaging the muscles before turning his gaze back to his eldest brother. He was one head taller than himself, had wild blonde hair tamed back in light curls. The ash-blonde hair shimmered slightly in the flames. His hair tips, however, were of a deep red. As if someone had dipped his hair in blood. Like Natsu, he had tanned skin. His features were hard, clear-cut and angular. Blood red cool eyes lay over high cheekbones, framed by thick blonde eyelashes and isolated strands framed his face, reaching down to his chin. Ignia wore simple harem pants because of the weather, held by a wide red belt. In addition he had put on a fur, on which the family crest was imprinted. You could tell from his well-trained body that he trained a lot, that he was experienced in fighting.  Countless black lines covered the hard muscles of his body, ritual symbols and signs of her clan.

"And how far are you?"

"She's not bad for her age, but she clearly needs a lot of Magic Enhancing Units," Ignia shrugged his shoulders slightly, "but she's much more eager to learn and capable than you ever were."

This last tip against Natsu was typical of Ignia. He was the oldest, but Natsu could almost be called Igneel's favourite son. At least that's how it usually came across. Even if Ignia was actually the heir. A soft rumble rolled Natsu's throat up and for a short moment his pupils turned into narrow slits and golden streaks flickered in the deep green soul mirrors. Hot rage crept up in him, his body getting hotter.

"You threatened to throw me into a volcano if I didn't learn to fly," he rumbled. Ignia was almost bored when he pulled up a blond eyebrow. Then his lips turned to a mean grin. It was as if the air was getting thicker, as if someone was charging it with electricity. Both brothers were tense and even Wendy felt the restlessness between them.

"What can I say? Pink hair doesn't fit into this family", the light of the torches shimmered on Ignia's longer fangs. He had a tendency to let his dragon out more often. Something that had only weakened in the last hundred years.

"My hair is salmon colored and they are like that because Mom has white hair and Dad has red hair," growled Natsu and black smoke fled from his nostrils, rising to the ceiling. Ignia wanted to say something in return, narrow arms snaked around the broad chest and stroked almost tenderly over the visible skin. It was as if someone would just let the thick air out between them. A quiet giggle danced through the air and then a narrow woman stepped out of the shade into the light of the torches. She was pale, almost corpse pale and two heads smaller than Ignia himself. She had long hair of pale pink color reaching down to her knees. She seemed tender and fragile next to him, and the delicate green fabric of the dress that enclosed her figure only reinforced the impression. Deep lines stretched across every visible part of her skin, leaving only her face free. It looked as if flames were licking over her skin. And that was exactly what it represented. She leaned against Ignia and smiled at him. Only the strength in her deep, red eyes clearly said that she was more than just a tender little woman.

"Be sweet, darling," she kissed his left pectoral muscle, then looked at Natsu.

"I'm sorry he's such a nasty guy. I'm already working on it," she giggled and a deep growl rolled over his brother's lips. Natsu laughed quietly and waved his left hand as he held Wendy with his right arm.

"Husch leave already. I don't want to bother you any more," he said and Miyuki wobbled her eyebrows with a grin. Ignias gaze became darker with every second that his mate didn't give him attention. He wrapped one arm around her waist and shouldered her without further ado, gave her a strong slap on the ass, turned around and then disappeared, following the long corridor. Miyuki laughed quietly and waved at Natsu. She seemed extremely relaxed for having to appease an annoyed, grumpy Ignia again. But so it was among mates. He would never intentionally hurt her and she knew that.

Natsu looked down at his little sister, who was clearly struggling not to fall asleep on his arm. Her eyelids hung at half-mast, her eyes almost closed, and she clung to the simple black linen shirt he was wearing. He set himself in motion and put his sister to bed. His footsteps reverberated from the high stone walls and they came on a wider corridor. On the left side, large windowless frames had been installed and the cool night air greeted them. Soft moonlight illuminated the hallway and put a silvery shimmer on the large stones and the rough wood of the doors. He opened one of them, stepped into the large room, walked straight up to a wide child's bed and gently bedded Wendy in the soft furs, covering her with another. She blinked tiredly and snuggled up. The quiet mazing of a cat reached his ears and Natsu lowered his gaze. A delicate white kitten grazed his legs. His lips turned to a wide grin and he lifted the tender creature up and put it on the furs so Carla could get to Wendy. Then he rose and smiled down at his sister, while her cat pushed herself under the furs and snuggled up without hesitation. He turned away, left his sister's room on quiet soles and stepped back into the moonlit hallway.

Suddenly he felt a touch of magic, of foreign magic. His body was tense and his eyes widened. A fine, sweet scent entered his nose and he felt his very own dragon magic coming out. His heartbeat speeded up, hammering wildly against his ribs. His gaze turned to the wide starry sky above him, his nostrils stretched wide and his throat tightened. He clasped the stone parapet, not even noticing how his fingers deformed into dragon claws and dug fine grooves into the rock. His eyes had transformed and he felt this unfamiliar magic approaching. It smelled airy, tender and pure. He could feel everything in him calling to welcome this magic. Mine. The dragon in him instinctively wanted to possess what approached him and Natsu agreed with his inner dragon.

"Lucyanna," he growled. A name he couldn't know, but instinctively he knew that was her name. And then, as if someone had broken a mirror, the magic had disappeared, vanishing as quickly as smoke in the wind. A deep rumble rolled up his throat and a juicy curse lay on his lips.

.

.

.

200 years later

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.

.

"Lucy," Levy's panicked cry reached their ears as they stormed into the main hall. Lucy whirled around, her eyes wide open, her breathing hectic. She clasped an athame and fear surged inside her. Men invaded the sacred prayer hall. A malicious laughter echoed from the high walls. She stepped back a few steps. She was exhausted, had trained. She blinked violently as incense and sweat burned in her eyes, her breathing speeding up. She didn't know who these men were. They wore armor of fur and leather, had long wild hair and were armed to the teeth. Each equipped with a one-and-a-half, a one-handed and a long battle dagger. She sensed the magic that was coming from them and tried to weave protective spells, but she was simply too exhausted, she noticed it immediately. Her magic reared up, but she only made sparks.

Fear raged through her veins as a man with long, shaggy, blond hair approached. He wore less fur than most of them. His clothes were red and black and looked like a tunic. His right arm and chest were exposed and a crest stood out from his pale skin. Her eyes widened, flying to his. Magic swelled inside them, coloring them in a deep, glowing red and she raised the Athame trembling. Which elicited a gloating laugh from him. Black flames licked on his skin and fear laced Lucy's throat. She whirled around and ran off as fast as her wobbly legs could carry her. She knew exactly what he was. He belonged to the clan of the gods. A brutal bunch and she also knew why they were here. So far they had always avoided this temple, but in the last 200 years, it had happened more often that there had been attacks by gods on witches. And she was not ready to be made a slave. While she tried to escape from the hall in her gathered linen dress, her limbs hurt from exhaustion, her heart raced as if she were running a marathon.

And yet she was too slow. Everything seemed to work against her when she felt a big, coarse hand digging into her hair and pulling her back violently. Pain shot through her scalp, tears rose to her eyes.

"Well well, where are we going?", goose bumps spread on her skin at the sound of his voice and fear stretched out his poisonous claws to her heart and mind. She clasped his wrists to relieve the pain on her scalp. Her muscles were aching and trembling with every movement, tears burning in her eyes and clouding her vision. The smell of ashes, blood and burnt flesh rose to her nose. Nausea rose in her. She gave out an unwilling growl as he sniffed at her and tried to detach himself from him, tried to kick after him, but he held her firmly. And then she felt him wrap a strong arm around her waist, let go of her hair and he just threw her over his shoulder.

"I like you, it will be fun to break your will, witch," he growled and a mean laugh escaped his lips. Lucy wriggled in his grip and panic threatened to overwhelm her. She didn't want to be around him a second longer. And yet she couldn't get out of his firm grip. She hit his back, but more than a painful blow to her butt and rough laughter didn't bring it. Tears ran down her cheeks. She couldn't use her magic because she had been overdone. In general, however, Lucy was not someone who was physically very strong. She was a witch. Magic was her thing. He set himself in motion and some of the men followed him.

"Lucy," Levy's panic-stricken and painful voice reached her ears and she hectically searched for her best friend. Juvia and Erza were not here, were currently in another temple. Only Levy and four other witches had been here. The rough laughter of men penetrated her ears again, and she trembled and breathed as he carried her away through the corridors. She wanted to see Levy.

"Please, do nothing to her," she brought out and her voice trembled, wavered. Then he stopped and for a moment silence lay over the men. Her heart raced.

"Lord?

"For all I care, it can't hurt to have another slave," the blonde growled and two men nodded and started moving, disappeared back into the now desecrated prayer hall to fetch Levy. That was what Lucy hoped. She held her breath, her heart pounding almost painfully fast against her ribs, while she stared with weeping eyes wide open in the direction in which the men had disappeared. And then she heard the footsteps. She bit her lower lip as they carried a narrow witch. Her clothes were torn and she had scratches everywhere and her pale skin began to turn blue. Tears flowed down her cheeks and pain and anger spread into Lucy. They had hurt Levy. They would pay for that. Levy's brown eyes found hers and she saw the fear in them. Lucy gave her a trembling smile to encourage her.

"So, all this and happy? Good," growled the god, who carried her around like a sack of potatoes and they started to move again.

.

.

.

The hall was warm and the sweat of men, women and children, the smell of greasy meat, fresh bread, excrement and the smell of wine and mead almost overloaded his nose. Natsu slightly twisted his lips, pulled his brows together. Laughter and voices intertwined to a hum and the noise was almost too much for his sensitive dragon ears. The rhythmic music of the musicians, who played, lay over everything. The dull rumbling of the drums, the whistling of the bagpipes and the hurdy-gurdy. And this celebration almost annoyed him. But only almost. The atmosphere after a battle was always boisterous. So also this one here.

He let his gaze glide over the numerous men and women in leather, fur and metal, but nobody really attracted his attention. For him they were like a sea of warm bodies. Nothing more. Natsu followed his father, his brothers and cousins. They had all fought together, had defeated a mighty enemy and the smell of blood, ashes and death was still subliminal in the air. They searched for a suitable place and Natsu hoped that they would avoid the demons. He really didn't want to hear any stupid remarks from Gray today. They headed for a wide table that was almost completely free, a clear sign that it had been set free for the dragons. They all sat down and a high, full voice was heard.

"Ah, our beloved dragons. Welcome. Nice that you still came," Natsus looked at a beautiful blonde with short hair. Velvety golden skin, ash blonde wild curls, golden eyes. She had a dreamlike body, slender, female curves, full breasts. The armor she wore shimmered in the numerous candles of the hall, underlining her body. She smiled broadly and Natsu suppressed a yawn. His muscles were tense, tired and he knew he wouldn't stay long. In itself he was here only at the request of his father.

"Dimaria, good you have survived the battle", Igneel rose again, pulled the goddess briefly into a friendly embrace, which she replied. A malicious laughter penetrated Natsus' ears and a fine, pure scent entered his nose. His nostrils widened and his heart stopped for a moment. His gaze searched and found, stapling itself on a beautiful figure. Zancrow dragged a narrow little blonde in slave's clothes with him, his right hand firmly dug into her golden strands. Tears stood in the deep brown eyes. It was as if time stood still and he dared not to breathe. He didn't notice how he rose, didn't notice how a deep, warning rumble rolled up his throat and left his lips. His gaze was directed at this tender, feminine figure. Her velvety skin was scarred and bruised. A heavy gold collar had been put around her neck and her breasts almost poured out of the red top, which just as concealed the most important parts. Artful patterns of gold lined the dark fabric and she wore pluder trousers of transparent red fabric hemmed into a heavy gold border. Her wrists and ankles were also bound with heavy gold shackles.

His heartbeat speeded up, his pupils contracted into long narrow slits, and the gold of his dragon eyes stepped out, displacing the deep forest green. Zancrow laughed and as she tried to detach herself from him, he shook her and punched her in the face. The men around him laughed maliciously. Anger burned up in Natsu, scales stepped through his skin and his fingers deformed into long, deadly claws. The dragon pushed to the surface and it was as if boiling lava was burning through his veins. Magic rolled in waves from him through the room and dark, deep rage burned in his eyes.

"Mine", he rumbled in a deep, inhuman voice and set himself in motion.

[shewhowasbornlucky]

A princess

Written for the second day of Royal Family Week 2019.

Day 2: Ceremony

@idonthatemaiko

Once upon a time, under the summer moon and the rising sun, a princess cried her first cry. Her lungs were strong, and her cry showed not a weak character. Princess Ursa, blood of the Avatar Roku, found herself smiling despite her tiredness and her pain. A princess.  Their spare was a princess. 

After cunning warriors and accomplished rulers, a princess was born from a prince. If the fire sages predicted something was wrong with the baby’s gender, they said nothing – the star that shone over their window – powerful and bright – told them what they wanted to hear: the union had finally succeeded. The baby was a princess of fire, yes – the blood of the dragon and the avatar. Ursa did not know whether to feel scared or relieved. She had given her nation what it asked from her; but to her it made no difference. So what if Zuko had been born in the winter! It didn’t matter a single bit, for her heart beat the faster whenever he was in her arms. So what if this new baby was kissed by Agni! Ursa saw a delicate baby in need of a mother.

She heard hushed steps outside the room, and the door was suddenly opened. Ursa was in no way surprised to see her lord husband’s face – features shaded by a lack of sleep and just a small hint of worry that was confirmed by his disheveled robes. His eyes felt warm on her, and she smiled despite the pain and despite the worry – he was with her, and nothing could ever go wrong in that.

“It is a girl,” she said, and was surprised at how steady and strong her voice seemed.

“So I heard,” was his reply, as he closed the distance between them so she could see the hint of a smile on his lips.

The small baby was being cleaned by the matrons, who hurried to take out the bloodied rags and sheets the princess had soaked in her entry to this world.

“Zuko…?” Ursa asked, trying to fix her posture as Ozai took his place beside her.

“He is sleeping,” he said, and he glanced at the baby at the other side of the room. Then, his smile was clearer, “didn’t want to lose the birth of his sister, but he was too tired to keep his eyes open,” he said, and though his tone was monotone one could see just how proud he was in the way his glaze was lit. A frown told her that happiness was not the only thing in his mind, though. “I thought—“

Ursa sighed, “I did, too. But it all went alright,” she said. Ozai, in all his graceful clumsiness, took her hand and left a burning kiss. He had been so close to lose her he almost felt her escaping through his fingers. “I’m—I’m fine.”

He studied her in silence with eyes that resembled a hawk’s. Prince Ozai seemed to be eased by the way her smile shone, and he gifted his bride another kiss. “She must be quite stubborn, then. Just like you,” he said, and the playfulness in his tone was a warm caress.

“You’re one to talk,” she replied, a raised brow and a happy tone.

The servants were kind enough to leave them alone.

Ursa rested her head against her husband’s shoulder. It was safer, somehow. Being able to rest in the one she loved the most. Silence surrounded them as Ozai drew imaginary patterns on Ursa’s shoulders. It was thick, and filled with the calm that can only come after a storm.

“I wasn’t worried.”

Ursa begged to differ, for she had heard his worried steps across the hallway. She had come to know them –know him—like another part of her soul. She smiled, and her teasing tone came back to haunt him. “So you wouldn’t care if the mother of your children died?”

“I know you,” he simply said, “I know you’re stronger than that.” And he kissed her, hard. His hands found their place at her cheeks, and massaged her hair soaked with sweat. If he was disgusted, he did not show it. Perhaps happiness was blinding. Perhaps love was blind. “You’ve thought of a name?”

“So many nights a blue dragon appeared on my sleep,” she whispered, not for the first time.

Her prince sighed, “She will be called after her grandfather, then. I am sure Father will be pleased.”

Ursa ignored the deep pain that stabbed her then. She could never get used to the desperate attempts her husband made at gaining his father’s love. A mad king cannot love anyone, she thought.  

She closed her eyes and added in a small voice with her heart on her hands, “are you pleased, my prince?”

“Utterly,” he replied, and he sounded so young and so full of light she never questioned the trught of his word. She kissed him, and could only stop once the maids brought them the young princess.

“It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Princess Azula,” said Ozai, as Ursa saw him carrying the baby in his arms. She thought it was the closer her husband would get to say he loved his daughter.

Zuko joined them in the morning, and hugged her mother tightly.

“Can I carry her, mom?” he asked, so happy his eyes burned with a fire that slept inside him, and she buried him in the softest kisses as she explained how it was not possible. At least, not for now. They had all the time in the world to hug each other, after all.

The festivities lasted for a week. All around the Fire Nation there could be heard the hymns of a princess that were written years and years ago, but were finally remembered.

 Once upon a time, a princess kissed by the sun lost her mind and her way, and all she considered precious. Once upon a time, a princess was consumed by the fire. Once upon a time, a princess fought her demons and her failures, and owned her loss with honor. Once upon a time, a princess found her way. She fought a war and lost her all but came back victorious – no glory left for a conqueror that conquered herself. Once upon a time, a princess came back, and found a home that was broken and a family that hurt but did not stop trying.

Once upon a time, a princess carried in her arms another princess. Amber eyes looked back at the older princess, and a rhythmical laughter carried the song of the fallen, and the promise to the reborn.

Princess Izumi was born on the spring, between the scents of jasmine and sand, in a room guarded by forty five souls loyal to the crown. Fire Lady Mai was paler than a ghost, and dried tears roamed down her cheeks. Her agony ended once she heard her daughter’s sharp cry. A baby that was not kissed by death was finally placed in her arms. Mai was faster – she had learned the hard way – and kissed her chubby cheeks. Fire Lady Mai knew the very instant she looked into her daughter’s cloudy eyes that there was nothing she wouldn’t do for her.

“It’s a girl,” Ursa whispered, as if Mai hadn’t felt that before, in her womb. As if it mattered. Ursa’s tone was muffled by her joy, and Mai could forget for a moment all she knew about masks, and joined in her silent cry.

“It’s alive,” she whispered back, and the hard beating of Izumi’s heart filled her to the brim with a happiness she wasn’t sure she was able to feel, before. Her mother caressed her shoulder, and gave her a tiny squeeze.

“It is alive,” then said Ursa, between a sob too happy to choke.  “Call for the Fire Lord!” she  yelled, without taking her eyes off the little girl. “Tell him it is time to meet his daughter!”

“Didn’t you hear her?!” Azula cried, sharp eyes and sharp glances, “bring Fire Lord Zuko at this very instant; it is an order from your princess!” she entered the room with a Fire Sage at her talons.

“You’re alive,” Zuko said in a whisper, as soon as the door opened for him. He felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. “Mai, I—“

“I know,” she whispered as soft as a caress,  “I know. And I, you. Come meet your daughter,” his wife said with a shaky breath, and she never seemed as dreamlike as in that moment. Zuko gave her a sloppy kiss that was all teeth and tears, and bruises too old to be hurting. She was happy to reply with a sigh of her own and her hope in her hands.

“Izumi,” he croaked, and his legs felt shaky under the weight of his happiness and the piercing fear of having his joy taken from him.

“She will live until her old age, Fire Lord. She will rule with justice, and she will be deeply loved,” an old Sage said in all his stiffness, polite enough to ignore the scene between the Fire Lord and his family.

“She already is,” he said, looking at the baby. His hands were shaking against her soft skin, and Mai gave him support by keeping hers –steady and warm – over his.

“Fire Lord, with all due respect, we haven’t told you if she is a bender,” another Sage ventured, looking at his ruler from behind his spectacles and a severity that felt harsh.

Zuko wanted to laugh. Before Azula could snap at them – for how dare they be so disrespectful towards their Fire Lord who already has passed through enough pain for it to be of any importance? – Zuko shook his head and raised a hand.  He spoke without a hint of a doubt, “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter at all.”

 Once upon a time, a princess had a choice. Once upon a time, a princess grew surrounded by love behind walls too big to be destroyed. Once upon a time, a princess sang to the sun. Once upon a time, a princess sat by her father’s side without a single hint of fear. Once upon a time, a princess brought a nation to its knees by the love it had for her – a love that she corresponded. Once upon a time, a princess got to mend her forefather’s sins, and she did so without complaining.

Once upon a time, a princess died so that another princess could live. The ceremony lasted for two days, and no one dared to taint the memory of Princess Azula ever again, for her own past was forgotten in her last act of love. Her ashes were laid to rest along her ancestors, and she was honored in her sacrifice. All around the Nation, there could be heard the whispers of the princess’ last breath and what she chose to do with it. Poets wrote songs about her power, and the strength it takes to mend one’s way.

A forgotten father heard no word of it, and so he never understood where the new songs were coming from. He was found singing along to a piece about madness, and the love that is found within.

They said Lady Ursa went mad with pain; that she did unspeakable things to the culprits –that not even their mothers could recognize them once she was done. But Lady Ursa was not done, and her broken cries told as much. That only another woman’s sorrow could match her own. That Fire Lady Mai held her tight and apologized without feeling it over and over again, until Ursa could almost believe it.

They said Lord Zuko held his sister until her body went cold, and her scarred body was wet with her blood and his tears. The Fire Lord lost her trusted advisor. Zuko lost his sister.

Izumi vowed to never forget a sacrifice made in her honor. Izumi was faithful to her word, and so once upon a time, a Fire Lady was crowned for the first time after centuries. The festivities lasted for an entire month, and in prison, a forgotten father smiled in his sneer, and wished he had been there to see such glory for himself.

All around the Nation could be heard hymns and songs that were written long ago and some new. People danced until their feet hurt, and then more. Their Fire Lady joined them, and her laughter was the loudest, and her father was the proudest. They say the former queen cried. If asked, she would deny it. But Izumi knew better.

Once upon a time, a Fire Lady sat in Sozin’s palace, and ruled with grace and wisdom.

Once upon a time, a Fire Lady loved fiercely a man she could not love, and she bore him a son and a daughter. Once upon a time, a princess raised siblings who knew not about hatred or vice, their hearts filled with a strong sense of pride in doing things right. 

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Z 020

This is the Knife Lady episode.    I mean, there’s other stuff in this one, but come on.    I’m not gonna bury the lede here.

Okay, so last time, Goku had to get used to the higher gravity on King Kai’s planet, so King Kai had him chase Bubbles around until he could catch him.    The last episode made it look like it only took one afternoon, but in this episode the narrator says it took him like three weeks, which seems fishy to me.   I feel like Toei messed up, one way or another.   Of course, there’s really no good way to mark the passage of time on this planet, so there’s no telling. 

Anyway, the Bubbles exercise was in the manga.   This time however, it’s a filler episode, and Goku’s next challenge is to chase a cricket-looking creature named Gregory.   Gregory is a filler guy, but he appears in just about every King Kai scene from here on out.   It’s weird how seamlessly they worked him in, and then you read the manga and he’s just not there.  

King Kai says that the idea here is to improve Goku’s speed under the high gravity, so I’m pretty sure the only thing different about this exercise is that Gregory is faster than Bubbles.   Also, Goku has to hit him with a big heavy hammer, which will only slow him down more.  What could go wrong?

Yeah...

Meanwhile, on Earth, Gohan’s still improving under Piccolo’s training, but he gets knocked down a cliff anyway, and Piccolo orders him to climb back up.   For some reason he starts shouting random nouns at Piccolo and tells him to do the next one.   I guess this is some sort of game? 

On Kami’s Lookout, everyone has to wear weighted training clothes like Kami made Goku wear.    Krillin looks awesome in his, Yamcha looks a little off, and Tien and Chiaotzu look really weird.  

Why are they letting Chiaotzu take a breather?  

Yajirobe bites Krillin on the ass.  Hey, save that for the Saiyans, tiger.

Later, Kami just tells the boys to leave and pursue their own training down below.  This whole thing feels like a total ripoff.   They had a year to prepare for the Saiyans and it took like four months just to get everyone up here, and then he tells him he won’t teach them anything, and now he’s sending them back with like three months to go.

Elsewhere, Master Roshi asks his sister, Fortuneteller Baba to look into the future and tell him how things turn out after the Saiyans arrive.   Baba gives it a go, but she can’t forsee anything, good or bad.   In the dub, she tells him “The Earth has no future!” which I always liked because it completely flies in the face of what she foresaw in the finale of Dragon Ball, when she peeked ahead to DBZ.   Things looked pretty rosy before, but now all bets are off.    The fate of the world is balancing on the head of a pin.  

Okay, that covers all the other stuff, let’s go back to Goku.    King Kai has them all break for lunch, and these two guys look adorable.   Not sure why Bubbles is wearing a hat... oh, wait, yes I do know.    While Goku was chasing Gregory one of them zipped right over the back of his head and shaved a stripe up his scalp, so he must be wearing the hat to cover it up.  

Goku asks King Kai what he knows about the Saiyans, on account of he is one, and he’s fighting two more later, so he kind of needs to know all he can.    King Kai offers to tell him the story, so Goku pulls up a chair for him.

This whole account was filler, so some of it has been retconned or just plain contradicted over the years, but it still forms the basis of a lot of Saiyan lore.   For example, this episode introduces the Tuffles as a second intelligent species that shared Planet Vegeta with the Saiyans.   The Tuffle concept would be used later in the OAV “Plan to Eradicate the Super Saiyans” as well as the Baby arc in Dragon Ball GT.   

What never seemed to catch on, on the other hand, was the idea that the Tuffles were much smaller than Saiyans (or humans for that matter) due to the intense gravity of the planet.   The implication here is that the Saiyans are only as big as they are because they’re so strong, although I think later sources established that they emigrated to this planet from somewhere else.    At any rate, the Tuffle characters in GT and “Plan to Eradicate” always looked full-sized to me.  

Basically, the Tuffles ruled most of the planet, and they had all sorts of advanced technology to sustain their larger population.  

On the other hand, the Saiyans lived in primitive dwellings, with a smaller territory and a smaller population.

King Kai’s flashback also puts them all in animal skins.   They sort of look like a cross between B-movie cavemen and artwork depicting early figures from the Bible.   

Here’s Knife Lady again.   She doesn’t do anything, but she looks awesome, and this episode is really the first solid evidence that female Saiyans existed.   That may seem silly to younger or newer fans, but I’ll bet there were a lot of fans in 1989 who figured female Namekians were going to show up, and that got shot to hell.   You just never know.

At some point, the Saiyans got strong enough or bold enough to start attacking the Tuffles outright.  Again, note the size difference.

The Tuffles invented weapons to fight back, so they weren’t completely helpless.   I always find this guy kind of ironic, because he looks a lot like Gohan in the Buu Saga, and he’s wearing a scouter, so he looks way more like a Saiyan than a Tuffle here.   I think the intent was to suggest that the Saiyans got their scouters from the Tuffles, but that won’t hold up in future episodes.   Besides, how could the Saiyans make use of Tuffle scouters?  They would be too small to wear.

The problem for the Tuffles was that the Saiyans would turn into giant apes at the sight of the full moon.   This only happened once every eight years on Planet Vegeta, but it was often enough to turn the tide of the war.

Now, I feel like a dope, because this is the first time I ever watched this story in the original Japanese, and I see now that a lot of things were different when the story was translated to English.   The dub implied a relatively short war, lasting maybe a few years, or a generation at most, and ending on a single full moon.   The Japanese version tells of a much longer transition from Tuffle to Saiyan rule, with the Tuffles barely able to hold the line and the Saiyans steadily gaining ground every eight years.   This makes it sound like it took a long time for the Saiyans to take control of the planet, and that would explain the fuzzy booties, among other things.   I always found King Kai’s story a little unsatisfying for only covering the last decade or so of Saiyan history, but it looks like he was actually going back a little further than that.

Also interesting: the term “Arcosian” was a dub-ism.   I just always took it for granted that these robed aliens had a name in the Japanese script, but they don’t.   Fans have adopted “Arcosian” as a name for Frieza’s species, although the terms “Ice-jin”, and “Frost Demon” have also been used, along with others I’m probably not aware of.    It makes sense, seeing as how these “Arcosians” are basically doing in this flashback what Frieza and King Cold actually did.   

On the other hand, now that I see the context of this flashback, I start to wonder if it makes more sense for the Saiyans to have overrun the Tuffles a long time ago.   Let’s say 100 years before Goku’s birth.   These robed aliens gave them the means to travel further into space, and the Saiyans operated as an independent kingdom for a while until they finally fell under King Cold’s influence.   I’m not sure how well that gels with some of the other lore, but I think I like that better, since it gives Saiyan history a chance to breathe.   It always irked me how they beat the Tuffles and got taken over by Frieza almost immediately.

The biggest flaw in King Kai’s tale is the part where he explains the destruction of Planet Vegeta, which Raditz attributed to meteors.   King Kai says this was done by the Kami of Planet Vegeta, as a way to punish the Saiyans for their evil deeds.   You’d think he would have stepped in a lot sooner, back when the Saiyans were killing all the Tuffles, but better late than never.  

Really, the idea of the Saiyans falling victim to divine justice was a cool idea, but the problem is that it suggests that King Kai really knows what happened here, and as we’ll later learn, he has no clue.   But Toei has him speaking with great authority on this subject, like he witnessed this happening.  

On the other hand, this is sort of true.    According to Battle of Gods, Beerus chose to have Planet Vegeta destroyed, and he tasked Frieza with doing so.  Who’s to say that Beerus didn’t ask Planet Vegeta’s Kami to handle it first, and then he went to Frieza when the Kami botched the job?

King Kai also states that only four Saiyans survived the planet’s destruction, which again sounds kind of weird because it implies that he went and counted them personally, except he ended up being wrong.   I’m not trying to nitpick here, I’m just saying that this can be the trouble with filler scenes.   The writers need to leave themselves a little wiggle room in case things get changed later.    Essentially, King Kai is just reinforcing everything that Raditz said in Episode 2.   Well, Raditz can be misinformed, but it’s a little off for King Kai to have his facts wrong. 

Anyway, Goku gets all fired up and wants to get back to his training right away.

He catches Gregory and gives him a little tap on the head.   Gregory brags that he’s tougher than Goku gives him credit for...

... but he’s still got a bump on his head.

King Kai is encouraged by Goku’s rapid progress, and believes that Goku might be good enough to learn the Kaio-ken, a technique so advanced that it’s just a theory he invented.   And he has another technique even cooler than that, but we’ll learn about that one another time.

[logicaldreamer]

Céder un peu c'est capituler beaucoup.

My body has been gerrymandered to fit the schemes of the latest white man in office. He gouges so deep my period skips four months and when it comes, I bleed for weeks because my healthcare costs as much as my rent and it does not cover birth control even though half the time I like women better than men, but this too is a sin.

The man screams at me until the words queer and asexual catch in my throat – I can’t bear to bring them to fruition because having sex and not having sex somehow mark me as tainted either way.

I have a sticker on my laptop that reads I’m not sorry about your fragile masculinity and the man attacks me for it in my favorite coffeeshop. I send him the Wikipedia page on masculinity in response, and three weeks later he returns and asks me if I work out, how did I get that body, would I like to talk more about his masculinity?

When I tell people I had to leave my favorite coffeeshop because of this man, they roll their eyes. My coworker laughs and says he’ll believe it when he sees it. My friends tell me to go to the polls, but the man sends my ballot back. I hear the man in the apartment next to me say somebody’s gonna get raped

and I am blinded as my first boyfriend shoves me into a wall and I learned how to make myself as small as possible, sinking into the La-Z-Boy chair as his unwanted tongue inches down my bare neck. I find a sobbing woman in the bathroom.

I see myself flinch when the boy I love goes to touch me without asking, and I wrap the asexual flag around my shoulders because then, at least, some people leave me alone. Next to me, on the subway a mother tells her 5-year-old daughter to close her legs and my 11-year-old friend gets dress-coded for her less-than-three-fingers-wide tank top straps.

Lady Gaga plays in the restaurant and I have to excuse myself to take deep breaths, heaving over a random bathroom sink. The man sang “Bad Romance” when he unhooked my bra in 6th grade Spanish class. A drunk girl staggers into his bedroom. My best friend numbers her encounters with the man reaching her fingers and toes.

I scream about a president who grabs pussies and I cry over a Supreme Court appointment, watching yet another stock of men take up the robes of the priesthood, and I am exhausted.

I do not think the man will ever understand to give in a little is to give up everything.

(T. // pussy riot)