#but sometimes as i summon my murder of crows

[silenceoflink]

You know what I love about Echoes of Wisdom? The fact that most of the citizens of Hyrule cannot see Tri, so they are perfectly fine with their princess summoning monsters and things. They must assume she draws power from herself and the rod just channels it.

[heliads]

'homesick, but not for home' - kaz brekker

Based on this request: "y/n finally gets to visit their home country after years away in ketterdam with the crows. a sweet little slice of life with kaz finally getting to be kaz rietveld"

masterlist

merry christmas everyone! my present to you is kaz

Receiving a summons from Kaz Brekker usually means one of two things:  either you are about to be murdered, or he is going to ask you to do something before he murders you. Usually, that task involves the distribution of funds from your ledgers to his. However, as one of the bare few who has the privilege of making it to his inner circle, you would wager that there’s a third possible outcome from hearing from him:  he still wants you to do something, but you’ll be killing someone else.

Nonetheless, judging by the expression of the courier who tells you that Kaz is expecting you in his office, even being spared an imminent death doesn’t mean that this meeting will go pleasantly. Dirtyhands has a reputation around here, one just as dark and choking as those black gloves he so loves to wear. No one here knows Kaz as anything more than a shadow of a man, a killer, a convict. To learn that he wishes to speak to you is akin to hearing that Death itself is knocking on your door.

You, however, just smile and turn your feet towards the stairs leading to Kaz’s office instead. The Slat, home of the Dregs, is a rickety ramshackle of a building. Kaz has been doing his part to fix it up as he can, but the floorboards are still masterfully creaky and the oil lamps flicker ominously from their resting places beside each looming door. The stairwell is worst of all, a towering, beckoning talon that delivers you to your fate at the very top. 

Sometimes, you swear Kaz put his office on the top floor just because it would give his victims more time to contemplate their quickly approaching demise when they had to climb all the way up. Other days, you just assume that he was sick of the noise and wanted to find a place where nobody would bother him unless absolutely necessary. Knowing Kaz, both rationales are probably sound.

You knock once on the door to his office and, upon hearing your name called to come in, twist the doorknob and let yourself inside. Gathered in a loose semicircle on the few available pieces of furniture as well as leaning against the wall are Inej, Jesper, Wylan, Matthias, and Nina. Kaz sits, as usual, ramrod straight in a chair behind his desk, and gestures for you to take the final open seat.

“Looks like everyone’s here,” you note. “Should I be worried about missing anything?”

“Not in the slightest,” Jesper chirps. “Only that Kaz has been saving that chair for you this whole time. He keeps glaring at us whenever we so much as look towards it.”

Jesper looks as if he’d like to gossip about this a little more, but Wylan digs a sharp elbow into his side, causing the other boy to complain heartily. 

You just grin, sliding into your seat. “Good. I deserve luxury. I was never made to sit on the ground.”

Kaz coughs pointedly to disguise what you’re sure is a smile. “Now that we’re all in attendance, we can get started. I’ve heard news of a prospective business deal happening off the coast of the Southern Colonies. Expensive materials are being exchanged. Jewelry, artwork, the like. It’s all being conducted by Kerch merchers, but they took everything offshore to avoid the chance of getting caught. If we swoop in the night before and take all their bargaining tools, we’ll be richer and they’ll have to cave to our demands.”

“Of course, our demands,” Nina says, nodding. “What are we demanding, again?”

Inej smiles. “For them to stop breathing down our backs, for one thing. Also, they keep trying to cut into business. They needed this deal for an alliance between some of the wealthier merchers, but if each party thinks the other stole their riches before the swap, they’ll be so busy with infighting that they won’t bother us for some time.”

Kaz inclines his head gravely. “Precisely.”

Inej taps her fingers silently against her leg. “My question is when we’re going to stage the attack. We can attempt to hijack the ships before they leave the harbor, but I have no doubt that they’ll be crawling with stadwatch.”

“That’s why we’ll be sailing along with them,” Kaz clarifies. “The heist won’t happen until we’re on the shores of the Southern Colonies. That way, they’ll have let down their guard.”

Immediately, everyone reacts. Leaving the Barrel is an invitation for everything to go wrong. If rival gangs like the Dime Lions or the Razorgulls find out that Kaz’s inner circle isn’t in town, they’ll hasten to loot the place or kill your foot soldiers before anyone gets back.

“We have to leave the country?” Inej asks doubtfully. “That’s a tremendous risk.”

Kaz’s expression doesn’t shift a second, but you can still sense him tensing somehow, all too aware of the extra burden on his staff to maintain decorum and avoid attracting threats from his many enemies. “Think of it as a vacation. You’ll be able to get out of the city and go somewhere nice. Maybe even get some seaside air.”

Jesper snorts. “Kaz, your idea of a vacation is locking the door of your office and not running your numbers for five minutes. I didn’t think seaside air existed in your vocabulary except as a potential source of weakness.”

Kaz frowns. “Of course seaside air exists in my vocabulary. How else would I know to say it?”

Jesper rolls his eyes and looks as if he’d like to counter that with an equally terrible argument, but you cut him off. “I’d like to go,” you say suddenly.

All eyes turn to you. “Why?” Wylan asks.

A faint smile plays upon your lips. It’s easier to look at the ground than face all of their inquisitive stares, so you do just that. “I’m from the Southern Colonies. Used to be, at least. I’d always planned on going back at some point, but never got the chance until now.”

Truth be told, you were assuming that you would never get that chance. Your parents moved your whole family down to Ketterdam when you were about ten years old, drawn by the call of a quick profit. They were able to eke out a few tentative years, but the city swallowed them like it does everyone else. It’s just you now, you and the Crows and the dream that at one point, you might be able to revisit the place you once called home.

Even connecting ‘home’ and the Southern Colonies in the same sentence seems like something out of a dream. You’ve lived in Kerch for so long now that you can hardly imagine being anywhere else. The Crows are your family, the Barrel your home. It’s a strange life, certainly, but it’s yours.

Kaz’s face closes down. “I’ll go with you. Inej, you and the rest will maintain the Crow Club and its affiliates until we return. I don’t want to risk all of us on one endeavor.”

Matthias arches a brow. “You are willing to brave the risk of splitting up, though?”

Kaz turns a bemused expression his way. “Are you worried about me, drüskelle? And here I thought we’d never see eye to eye.”

Matthias snorts. “Don’t go that far, demjin.”

“I won’t if you won’t,” Kaz muses. “The plan is set, then. We’ll have three weeks to plan, and then Y/N and I will set off.”

He allows the rest of the Crows to leave, but gestures for you to stay. You pull your chair closer to his desk, sensing that the discussion will shift into more details of the mission at hand.

Once the last of your friends have gone, Kaz turns his gaze to you. His eyes seem to stare straight through your skull, and you get the strange feeling that he could read every thought created inside your mind if he just bothered to listen a little closer. 

“You said you were born in the Southern Colonies. I need to be certain that there will be no distractions for a job like this. Can you swear to me that you’ll be focused?” He asks you.

“It won’t be an issue,” you assure him. “I’ll see the countryside and then move on. Honest.”

“Well, I should hope you won’t be completely honest,” Kaz murmurs, the corners of his lips pricking up into a slight shade of a smile. “We are still robbing people, of course.”

“Of course,” you laugh. His eyes jerk up when you do, his gaze hungry for the sight of it.

And– see, this is where you start to get into trouble. You are a criminal, a member of a gang. Every day is a fight. You know that survival is the thing that matters most in the Barrel, survival and how much money you can make off of delaying your last breath. You need to have single-minded focus totally centered around how you are going to make it through each day, but instead, your brain has started drifting to unreasonable topics like the precise shade of Kaz’s eyes or all the techniques he uses to hide his smiles.

It won’t serve you well, this feeling like a slow burn in your chest. Kaz would be the very first to tell you that weakness will only get you killed. People are a weakness. Is Kaz, though? Sometimes, in vague moments in between the times when reality comes firmly back to ground you, you can almost imagine that he might feel the same way. Would he really entertain this idea if he didn’t feel something for you? Would he leave the Barrel to go all the way to the Southern Colonies with you if he could easily send Jesper or someone else?

In the end, all you can ever do is push the thoughts from your mind. The scheming and planning period has got to be your least favorite part of a heist, but unfortunately, it’s also the segment that takes the longest. Every detail has to be perfect or all involved will be caught in the act.

Eventually, though, you find yourself shipping out on a fine sea morning, headed towards the country that hasn’t been yours since you were a child. You and Kaz are pretending to be business partners, which is true enough. His cabin is next to yours. You’re fairly sure he already knows the identity of every other traveler on the ship, just in case.

Standing on the deck and watching Ketterdam retreat into a nameless speck on the dark, vast ocean, you can’t help but wonder what the Southern Colonies will bring your way. Your heart is surprisingly light in your chest at the thought of it. You have dim recollections of the rolling hills and drifting tides, although even these memories have grown hazy with time. You can’t wait to see it again.

By contrast, Kaz, standing by your side, seems far less thrilled about the whole idea. His black gloves are clenched tightly around the railing, his grip hardening whenever the ship tilts too much. You glance around to make sure no other travelers are within earshot, then ask him with a questioning glance, “Why would you make this trip if you don’t like the ocean?”

Kaz shoots you a wary look. “I’m perfectly fine with it.”

You scoff. “Nonsense. You look as if you’d like nothing more than to drain the entire True Sea and simply walk to the Southern Colonies on foot. You could have sent Inej or Jesper in your place, you know. Why’d you want to go?”

“I have to make sure the job goes smoothly,” Kaz informs you. “Business is best handled by myself.”

You arch a brow. “Lovely. Good to know that you’ll never let something pesky like sea travel stand between you and your ambitions.”

Kaz snorts. “I should hope you’d already know that. And to answer your unspoken question, you’re here too because it’s foolish to take international jobs without someone at your back just in case of trouble. I trust you to not let homesickness for the Southern Colonies get in the way. I would advise you to stick to that.”

You smile. “Goodness, Kaz, you trust me? No wonder you didn’t want anyone else with us, if the rest knew you were shelling out compliments this easily they would have teased you for years.”

In the corners of your peripheral vision, you swear you can see a matching smile slide onto Kaz’s lips, but it’s gone the second you turn to look at him. “Precisely my thinking.”

The journey takes shorter than expected, or maybe that’s just your restless thinking. In no time at all, your ship is docking at a port of the Southern Colonies, and you’re turning in a slow circle on the coast, taking in every single sight you can.

“Careful,” Kaz tells you, “You don’t want to come across as too strong of a pigeon. We don’t want to attract any new friends who anticipate stealing something off of us.”

He’s smiling, though, and you swear there’s something a little lighter in his expression than you usually see. Maybe it really is the sea air getting to him, or maybe the fact that he’s out of Ketterdam’s grimy clutches lets Kaz relax even a fraction.

Regardless, you’re happy for it. “Ridiculous,” you say, laughing slightly. “Not all the world is like the Barrel, you know. We don’t do that sort of thing in the Southern Colonies.”

“We?” Kaz asks doubtfully. “Three steps you’ve taken off the ship and you’re already a proper citizen again, are you?”

You just grin. “What, are you jealous? Scared I’ll leave the Barrel?”

He doesn’t answer, but quickly changes the topic towards finding accommodations for the night and planning out an intelligence trip near the location where the jewels are being held. Even walking through the portside town and crossing the streets feels like magic, in a way. You lived not far from here, and everything from the curve of the avenues to the bright sun in the sky feels like coming home.

As it turns out, you and Kaz aren’t the only ones affected by the easy way of life in the Colonies. The two merchers you’ve been tracking are discussing business in broad daylight, obviously not anticipating anyone to have followed them. The job will be easy, and the few days you gave yourselves for extra planning are largely useless since no more details are relevant.

Instead, you take it upon yourself to explore the surrounding countryside. You tell Kaz that he doesn’t have to accompany you every time, of course, he can stay back in the portside town if he pleases, but he still goes with you. It’s funny, the more time you spend away from the city, the more you watch the burdens slowly lift from his shoulders, the light return to his eyes.

One time, while walking through a wooded path, Kaz tells you it’s because this reminds him of his home, as well. He grew up on a farm, once, under a different last name and in a different life. He’ll never have that time of his life back again, nor, you think privately, will you have yours, but it’s still lovely to wander around here and pretend that you could.

The job goes off without a hitch. Soon enough, you find yourselves sitting pleased with jewels and artwork hidden away in your luggage, all items recovered without their owners batting so much as an eye. You’ll leave early in the morning before they can notice you. You feel a pang in your heart at the thought of leaving already, but you hadn’t realized you weren’t the only one thinking about it until Kaz visits your room at the inn late that final night.

You had known it was him at your door from the moment you heard his crisp knock against the wooden paneling. No one else moves or lives like Kaz, with so much precision. When you let him in, though, he looks more wild than you’ve ever seen him. His hair, for once, has lost its impeccable style and gone wild and unkempt. His shirt is wrinkled and rolled up to the elbows. It would still be a good look on him were it not for the fact that you’ve never seen him so little put together in the entire time you’ve known him.

Kaz doesn’t say a word until he is certain that the door is shut and bolted behind him. Then, all of a sudden, the words burst out of his throat, so beseeching that you have to wonder how in Ghezen’s name he managed to keep them from you for so long. “Don’t stay here,” he says. “Come back with me.”

You frown. “Who said I was staying? We’ve both got tickets on the ship departing next morning, Kaz.”

He waves a hand frustratedly to signal his disbelief in this statement. “Tickets don’t mean a thing. I need you to say it.”

“I did,” you frown. “Where else would I go?”

“Here,” Kaz says heatedly. “I’ve seen the way you look at the buildings, this place. You want to say here. Don’t you do it, Y/N.”

You shake your head softly. “I love it here, yes, but it’s not my home anymore than Ravka across the sea. I’m going back to the Barrel, Kaz.”

“With me,” he says uncertainly.

“With you,” you confirm. “Goodness, Kaz, did you really think I would stay? How could I do such a thing?”

“It’s very easy for people to leave,” he tells you. There’s a heaviness in his eyes that reminds you of brothers that have been buried, of farms that have long been sold to undeserving families that were not his.

“Not me,” you whisper. “Not if it was you I was leaving.”

His eyes, which have been sweeping your figure this entire time, looking for some twitch of a finger or jump of a pulse to betray you for lying, leap up to yours again. “Okay,” he says at last. “Okay.”

He leans back slightly, wavering on his heels. “I– I’ll go back to my room, then.”

Kaz doesn’t look as if he much savors the idea, and you decide to spare him from his thoughts, just in case. “You can stay here, you know.”

A soft breath is released. “That would– I could do that.”

He does. And, as your candles burn closer to the quick, as the night settles over this city, you cannot help but be glad for the time when you’ll find yourself in a different one. It has been nice to be here, but you would like to go home. And, most importantly of all, you are glad that Kaz will be there with you.

grishaverse tags: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy, @aoi-targaryen, @budugu

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[yakopi]

Kagurabachi theory part 2

In my previous post I talked about my thoughts about the allusions to gods in Kagurabachi, and I mentioned that 7 Enchanted swords could be a vague reference to the 7 prosperity gods. And now I want to talk further about the swords.

Part two. The Enchanted Swords and what makes them special.

At first, I thought that the swords could be a further reference to the different prosperity gods, as Enten summons goldfish and Ebisu is the god of fishery.

This could also tie into the title of the story if the swords have something to do with the gods. Kagura dances often are accompanied by props, and fighting is often associated with dancing.

Meaning that possibly every time Chihiro uses Enten to dance/fight, he invites the (power of the) gods in his bodies.

Then, when I thought it through, I think that I found another connection:

All swords, until now, have a potential link to yokai/mythological creatures.

Enten summons goldfish, and there is a Yokai, Kingyo no yurei, which are goldfish possessed by spirits of the deceased, often murder victims.

Cloudgourge gives ice, water, and lightning abilities and sometimes summons attacks in dragon forms. Dragons in Japan are associated with water and the weather, so that tracks.

Tobimune has summoned feathers in a move called 'Crow/Karasu', and Tengu are a Yokai based on crows.

Kumeyuri has not revealed much about it, just some geisha-like spirits, however, there are enough Yokai that are based on normal-looking women. Yuki-onna, kuchisake onna, Ame-onna etc. I will have to see more to determine (if true) which yokai it is precisely.

The last revealed sword is Magatsumi, which has references to multiple yokai. It creates flowers and butterflies through spider (Jorogumo), dragonfly (koshinuke no mushi), and centipedes (omukade) techniques.

However it could also be a reference to a single yokai: the Jubokko, a vampire tree that consumes all your blood and is associated with insects that will take care of the carcass that is left. It could also explain the black liquid, as blood can become near black the longer it coagulates.

(A Jubokko would also be kind of ironic considering these trees are created when a huge amount of people died at their feet. And wouldnt you know, there was a war going on at the very moment Magatsumi was created.)

We have not seen the other swords, so everything is still possible, however, my theory for now is that the essence of yokai has been in one way or another placed/forged into the swords (hence why they are called Yoto, demon swords).

The first swords contained 1 yokai each, however those swords were just not strong enough. So the 6th sword was forged with either 3 yokai in it to make it more strong, or 1 yokai that could be stronger the more it is used in battle/gets blood.

This theory could also be why Magatsumi had to be sealed away so carefully compared to the other swords. It was already so powerful due to the 3 yokai that nobody should wield it in fear of damage/being corrupted by the yokai.

Or because if it continued to be used it would eventually get so strong that anyone wielding it would be overcome by it.

(If this theory is true, Enten could become an interesting plot point later, as Chihiro's father was murdered, so he could be in the sword.)

TLDR; The demon swords can possibly contain demons. Who could have thought?

(More thoughts in Part 3: Sealing power)

[fleur-de-violette]

20 questions for fic wtiters

Thank you @crows-murder for the tag !

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

87! But a fair share of them are fairly short stories.  

2. what's your total AO3 word count?

244 349! Almost at a quarter of million!

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Currently mostly DC/Batfam but I might come back to One Piece soon. And I wrote a lot for Supernatural, Reborn and Bleach

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

To the ones who are alive, and the ones who are there – Angsty fic about Dick and Jason, I’m kinda proud this one is my top fic because I put some guts into it.

Gorgon’s eyes – Dick comes back from spyral and his family doesn’t reacts well but he’s poisoned and immobilized and has to rely on them. I wanted this one to be a bit of a case fic on top of the drama and I’m not sure how much I succeeded?

To fight against time and win – This one was written just after the first one so again, with guts. It’s softer, though, it’s about Dick almost dying and his family taking care of him.

Vacation week – This one is about… Dick almost dying and the family taking care of him (I have a theme). It was one of the first fic I wrote for this fandom and I’m so happy it got so much love !

Painful protection – I swear the 6th one isn’t about Dick but yeah. This one is. It’s about Bruce trying to protect Dick by saying they’re unrelated and hurting him more in the process featuring good bro Jason. This one was in my mind even since before I started writing so while I’m not 100% happy how it turned out I’m happy people like it!

5. do you respond to comments?

Yes! I try to even if I find it hard sometimes to figure out what to say.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hard to say. I would say among the three MCD fic I’ve written it’s probably At the end of the universe (We were supposed to be okay). Otherwise the new one How to tape a card castle could be fairly angsty if you go without the 3rd chapter but what can I say I’m a sap and I added it.

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Again, hard to say. I’m a fan of bittersweet endings or hopeful endings. Maybe Fire keeper because it objectively end a lot better than it started

8. do you get hate on fics?

No! I got one rude comment but I’m still not sure it wasn’t a bot so I would say overall I’m lucky in that regard.  

9. do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I’m not a huge smut writer but I did try with my Smutty, shippy short stories. So far it has two fics one fairly cute and the other a dead dove which pretty much summons my range. There are 4 more fics for that series that are written and just wait to be edited and posted.

10. do you write crossovers?

No, but I’m not closed to the idea.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know, luckily.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Probably! Someone asked for my permission to translate To fight against time and win and repost in with permission. I gave it but I have no more news since.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I did brainstorms ideas that later became fics

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

I’m not really a shipper and when I am I’m a multishipper so not really a question for me

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

I have a multichapter WIP about dimension traveling. I love the idea but not what I did with it and I don’t really know how to fix it for now so it’s on pause for now and hopefully not forever.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I do well it long spiraling of emotions and abstract things when I manage it.  

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I probably wouldn’t do it unless it’s a language I speak confidently enough. Otherwise if my narrator doesn’t know the language I say they said something in this language and if they do I “translate” it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Yuyu Hakusho in 2007. And then posted for Bleach on ffnet one year later.  

20. Favourite fic you've written?

Not a definitive favorite but I would say The price of loyalty. Maybe it’s a weird thing to say about something I’ve written but it’s such a comfort fic and I re-read it often.

I tag @elegitre @babblingbookends and whoever wants to !

[katyspersonal]

I know you got like ten of these already but I still demand Crow/Annalise thoughts 🖤

Hrrrrg -_-. Oh look, it is you, with your boss x servant ships (lmao look WHO is talking fsjdhfhds) Okay, let's see what I think of the two... I main Annalise x her dead King, but let's say an alternative take when the previous one was not that big of a deal + L + arranged anyways.

🌑 In my thing, the four would kinda be friends since they were kids - Annalise, Maria, Crow (Eidinghardt) and King (Elisabeth/Elias)! Or at least, forced to interact due to the status and bloodlines shenanigans. Whereas Eidin was a little bit of 'mean older brother' to Elias and rather close to Maria, with Annalise he actually kept butting heads and thought she was a typical snobby princess as soon as he learned what title of the princess even entailed. Other two had to actually be the peacemakers between the two more than once! Most of the good moments between Annalise and Eidin were under watchful eye of the other two x)

🚩 It was later teen years when Eidin started to notice his feelings towards Annalise were going in the 'You are annoying. Unfortunately, in a kinda sexy way...' direction. He did not make an effort in delivering them to her, however, if someone who noticed (all two of such people, since Crow is actually a SKILLED tsundere) trolled him about it, he'd manipulate the conversation in a way to draw as much attention to himself as possible - while still looking like a victim of an """unfair""" interrogation, hahah. He liked being bullied about his (presumed) crush, whereas playing the role of hating it, WHEREAS playing it in such a way that people WOULD bug him more. He is just a nasty man like that, that's the way I like him! (and that's your fault btw lol)

🌑 When the holy blood was brought to Cainhurst (that tooooootally was not just a step in the plan of creating a baby to summon the Moon.... not at ALLLL...), Eidin was actually one of the first to submit himself as a 'Guardian' of the Queen of Blood, to acquire Blood Dregs for her. He passed it as simply loving the idea of murdering weak, broken people to provide further chaos and glory for his nobles, but in reality he was soooooOoooooOOooo horny over the fact that her blood was flowing in his veins now @_@ Like, ohhhh my god.

🚩 However, he would observe what other Guardians allowed themselves to do, like kissing Anna's hand, speaking very reverential words to her, all that, and just try to mimic it, to not come across as caring 'too much'. He would totally blow it up, though, always sounding too passionate when he'd return to her with his offerings, when he'd kneel and kiss her hand for far too long. Eidin would go from 'being smart at hiding his feelings' to 'THINKING he is smart when literally everyone could see what he was up to', without even being aware of it xd Annalise would've noticed too, of course - she is not clueless! However, whereas she is usually strict (cruel, even) to people that try to 'fool' her, thinking she was too stupid to see through them, with Crow she'd give him a pass, being intrigued with how much further he could've gotten caught in his passion while deluded with the idea of being slick.

🌑 Annalise actually ended up simping hard for him, hoping that he'd get enough balls to come genuine and clear about his feelings some time, but she would not give her own feelings away. She had a status and reputation to uphold! And was puzzled on how she could guarantee it was all safe. So the two would've had a period of giving each other hints and fantasising about each other while separated.

🚩 However, they were still making the best out of their conversations. Eidin even allowed himself to sit at the empty throne beside Annalise a few times, having a casual chat with her. Usually it was them being petty haters towards some other people in the castle xD But sometimes it was just them discussing the concerns of the future of the Cainhurst's glory (with threats looming over them from the Healing Church), missing Maria, being regretful about poor Elias offering himself as a sacrifice for the Child of Blood, and of course shit-talking Logarius that "totally had hots for Annalise and refused to admit them" (that they both hated with their guts and found disgusting). In general, they at least found very understanding friends in each other at the end, not even recalling how they were petty and hostile as children.

🌑 They'd share a kiss, though. At some point, Crow noticed Annalise was nervous because of Elias, marriage and all that stuff. Seeing Annalise being not dead ice cold and certain about something was a rare sight, of course, and Eidin was driven not just by selfish motivations, but by genuine concern and wish to comfort. He offered himself as a volunteer to practice the scene of marriage and oath - naturally, going too hard with his own side of speech and with the kiss. He did not bother to deny it as 'simply playing a good role' and Annalise did not bother to troll him about this. Whereas most of the ships I am active on rely on open communication, with these two it is the opposite; they often rely on the 'tension', giving hints to one another and simply hoping the other would 'get it'. However, Anna was the one who demanded it at least three other times, despite being kinda calm by then. But it was not 'reliving' the situation what calmed her nerves, but instead, coming to terms with what she actually wanted - be it possible or not.

🚩 They would both be heartbroken, though, after Cainhurst's massacre and the telepathic bond between Crow and Annalise being severed. When Paleblood Hunter has a consanguineal contract with her, Annalise mentions that they could be the only ones left of Vilebloods when Arianna and Crow exist, implying the contract should be refueled once in a while. Both Anna and Eidin still keep one another in thoughts and hope the other does the same. Eidin has it especially hard, though. I have this semi-shitpost semi-sad headcanon that should he meet a woman with long red hair - he will fall into delusion that Anna is 'fucking with him' via other people and serve this person ;-; He can't shake the feeling that she must be watching over him in one way or another... He just never feels alone, even if this is just a lunatic's coping strategy.

🌑 While it lasted, actually both would be revering in it feeling like 'forbidden love'. There was something exciting for them both about this secrecy, even though they never directly communicated with each other about what exactly their status was. Each believed the other just 'got it' - and honestly, they believed right. But they would try to have activities just between one another, away from anyone who'd spread the word or judge, like going in the woods or pretending to be the commoners in Yharnam under covers. Just enjoying spending time together! On the dark side, it were these under-cover quality times together how they caught the rumours of bad things looming over Cainhurst and getting prepared (which we all know did not even help them). In these times, Crow always loved getting sweets and flowers (always the most deep red color possible) for Annalise. They would also sometimes play physical pranks on Laurence or Ashton, albeit Patches also wanted to do that... so they were often crossing Patches, too... xD

________________

Thank you for the ask, though! Sorry if it is not very long, but I hope I got the point across anyways. Also not me realising this ship is actually REALLY good while writing this

[sleepyowlwrites]

Happy blorbo blursday! I was thinking recently about how I have very few outright villains in my writing and I got curious about other people's. So tell me about your villains (or your most villain-adjacent antagonists)! - @void-botanist

here is my incomplete list of villains/antagonists:

Masryune from Summon Story

his real name is Petirik Ov'Rine

somebody once told him the reason for why summoners stay away from the Field of Teeth and he was like "sounds like an invitation"

has some delusions of grandeur but from like. a business standpoint. he thinks a great business idea is to start a war.

he summons some shidha - the type of spirit summoners are warned against ever summoning - to possess dead dragons so he can start this war

he monologues a lot

in my head he's a cross between Ardyn from FFXV and Jan Van Eck from Six of Crows, two antagonists that are fun or interesting for a hot minute before you're like PLEASE GO AWAY

he has no idea that the reason his plans keep getting tripped up is literally just a group of nobody summoners accidentally interrupting them

he throws temper tantrums but the consequences are that people die and there's blood in the streets so that's great

Alexander Gold from Magick Story

he's the calculating, calm type of antagonist. he's playing the long game and he's very good at it

when he's through, all magick in TOWN THAT STILL DOESN'T HAVE A NAME TWO YEARS ON will be linked back to him and he can live forever and control everything. that's the plan

it's not a terrible plan but it's also not a great one because magick is lowkey almost sentient and it literally can't be coerced into a single intention so this is a doomed enterprise but also while it's on its way to doom it's causing a lot of havoc so there's that

he's got this weird fling with Heidi Chorus, his partner in crime, sometimes, and they flirt super weird and torture people together

he's suave and interesting but he also kills animals so we hate him

Max (and Cam) from City Story

he's my least favorite, I hate him so much

his crimes include: abuse, coercion, blackmail, drug dealing, running an illegal fight club thing, abuse, arranging a murder, being an asshole to everyone he meets, brainwashing his brother, abuse

he hasn't even shown up in the story yet because I don't want to touch him with a ten foot pole

he sends people to hurt Rune because he believes she's his property

Cam, the brainwashed brother, wasn't always awful but now he just agrees with whatever Max says and this isn't a Jang Hanseo situation, he is OK with hurting people as long as Max doesn't hurt him. we can feel a little bad for him but that's it 'cause he is willingly terrible

and Max is just the worst

he's slimy and my least favorite and I hate him so much

I dunno who the villain/antagonist of Mercenary Story, Guild Story, or Rain Story is/are. I do also have some evil/antagonistic girls, don't worry.

Rhea from Summon Story

she's Shae's half-sister and bent on revenge

Shae is happy to be reunited with her but Rhea just wants to kill things now and doesn't care about the collateral damage

she's not all bad. maybe. I don't know if she succeeds in killing her father. yet.

I mentioned Heidi Chorus from Magick Story.

there's also Fawn from City Story, Max's favorite girlfriend. she's awful. not in the annoying, brainless kind of way. she's smart and controlling and that's why Max likes her. goodbye.

there are plenty of unnamed characters in Guild and Mercenary Stories, both good and bad, because I keep not writing them, haha.

in Anxiety Story the antagonist isn't a person, though it briefly manifests as Aiden's father.

in Youth Story there's no plot, just vibes, so no antagonist there.

Train Story is also vibes.

Romance Story has John Rusalo but then he gets redeemed and then Jack Sanderson but we kick him out of the story for being just a terrible cousin and then it's like, English law, I guess.

Apocalypse Story is vibes again.

Space Story is as well.

Hunter Story, Summer Story, Princess Story, and Gang Story barely exist.

Thief Story's antagonist is the bridge they're trying to steal, because I don't know what they're stealing it for.

Dimension Story's antagonist is grief, and the fact that these two kids can't keep ripping holes in spacetime to see each other forever. golly that's such a sad story. no wonder I'm not writing it.

thanks for asking, Sapling

[parkersbliss]

Part of The Crows

pairing: the crows x reader (all platonic)

warnings: shadow & bone spoilers? cursing?

wc; 800 ish

synopsis: the life of a crow trying to kidnap the sun summoner is not easy

a/n; this was fun to write will probably do more if anyone likes it :D

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

first things first

how did you become a part of this?

well..

lets just say you were an assassin

like the best one in ketterdam

and assigned to kill mr. brekker himself

you have full confidence that you can

but when you sneak into his office

he’s just standing there, leaning on his cane

“whatever he’s paying you, I’ll double it.”

“what?”

“join my crew.”

“you do understand I’m here to kill you, right?”

kaz shrugs, sitting on his desk

“I’ll double it.”

you were never going to say no

no one says no to kaz brekker

“yes, okay.”

“good. first assignment, go kill your old boss.”

and now you’re kaz’s personal assassin

you met jesper the next day

the first thing you do is fawn over his gun tricks

and he is more than happy to show off

“someone here finally appreciates me.”

kaz rolled his eyes

“is he always like that?”

jesper shakes his head. “he’s worse.”

then, you met inej

and as soon as kaz lead you to meet her, it was awkward

not awkward for them

but for you as you stood there and watched them just look at each other

there was something there

you coughed

“right. this is inej.”

you two instantly became best friends

you loved going places with her

more specifically, missions

she did the spying, you did the killing

and of course, we come to the big reveal

“one million Kruge?”

“to cross the fold?”

“money isn’t anything if we’re dEAD”

kaz shuts both you & jesper up with one look

“I have a plan.”

“do you now? just a reminder cant exaclty just walk through it.”

sometimes kaz wishes you came with a “very sarcastic” warning

obviously you guys take the job

and spend the entire fucking night trying to find a way across the fold

that’s eight hours of sleep you wasted with kaz of all people

running around ketterdam

which turns from let’s find a way across the fold to heartrender

and then you find the heartrender

take her to dreesen

“criminals.”

you resist the urge not to laugh

was it THAT obvious?

“mr. brekker, no business man worth his salt hires his first applicant.”

*cue threat from kaz and jesper showing off his gun*

“you wouldn’t.”

“no business worth his salt would bargain for what he could take.”

you cross your arms, smirking

oh it felt good to be the ones in charge

“two weeks ago he crossed through the fold on foot.”

your eyes bug out of your head at that

and now you’re supposed to kidnap the sun summoner?

you, jesper & kaz share the same look of “utter bullshit”

“her name is alina starkov”

BANG

milana screams

no one else flinches

“you have until sunrise.”

oh great, another late night expedition

“he doesn’t have a way across the fold, you guys know that.”

you shrug, “it’s kaz.”

“just take the bet,” jesper whines

inej takes a shot

“he’s obsessed with taking down pekka rollins.”

“well of course he’s obsessed with taken down the guy who’s paid off stadwatch to get away with murder.”

“It’s more than that. I’ve seen the way kaz looks when he says his name. He wants revenge.”

you raise a brow at jesper, you thought kaz might’ve told her already

then inej is being summoned

“you want company?”

“No.”

“I meant to-,”

“Just shut up jesper,” you said, patting him on the back

then in strolls mr. brekker himself

you don’t comment on the bruise forming on his face

“you all right, boss?”

kaz takes a shot, one that was YOURS

but you don’t say anything

“no. we’ve been wanted off the job.”

“by who?”

“who do you think?”

“did he recognize you?”

“if he did, I’d be dead.”

kaz checks his watch, “five hours till sunrise.”

“we’re off the job tho, right?”

god, that boy is so stupid

“never make a decision out of fear jesper, only out of spite.”

“well, greed always worked for me.”

“I prefer for the fun of it. or you know, sweet revenge.”

“you just like showing off your skills.”

“so do you.”

silence then “both of you, leave.”

you roll your eyes, nudging jesper

“lets go before kaz has both our heads on spikes.”

anyway

you’re functioning on no sleep running around ketterdam

and then inej asks jesper to kill someone for him

and then kaz finds a lead

and now you’re playing distraction with jesper as charming as ever

you’re so lucky you found the conductor

only after inej almost killed him

I mean seriously

“Don’t,” Kaz said

and then there’s a knife like inches from your head

“I’ll need 20 pounds of alabaster coal, a pack of majdaloun jurda and uh… a goat”

you begged to go get the goat

I mean literally begged

“kaz, pLEASE PLEASE PLEASE”

“(Y/N)…”

“Kaz.”

“Mate just let her go get the goat.”

“fine-”

“YES”

“You’re with me.”

“Oh for fu-”

anyway you get the goat

kaz grips his cane and looks at you with raised eyebrows

you’re just like clutching this little goat

with all the love in the world in your eyes

and kaz cannot understand WHY

but that’s kaz

then of course you see the conductor making deals he shouldn’t

“kaz you have your scheming face.”

“I’m not-”

“I don’t like that face.”

“For the record, you don’t like any of my faces.”

“I dislike this one the most.”

if kaz could, he would punch you

“yOU GAMBLED?”

addiction is real

jesper is a perfect example of this

“ITS FINE”

“THERE ARE PEOPLE CHASING YOU”

“THATS NOTHING NEW”

“BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP AND GET IN”

land mine go boom

“please tell me you have 20 pounds of coal?”

“so slight snag in the plan…”

“we know you gambled it,” kaz deadpanned.

“I lost a little bit of money”

kaz gives him the look

“I lost all of the money, BUT I managed to steal 20 pounds of alabaster coal”

“this is sixteen”

“SIXTEEN pounds of alabaster coal”

“can we do it in sixteen?”

“never been done before.”

cue the dirty looks from everyone at jesper

you sit across from inej next to kaz

and then the tracks aren’t connected

mass panic, mostly from jesper

arker explains that it’s all fine as long as the volcra don’t attack

spoiler alert, they do

and one gets stuck on a spike

it just goes downhill from there

the coal is gone

“tHiS iS hOw wE dIE”

“jesper, gRAB THE GOAT”

“I’m not throwing out the goat”

“GRAB THE DAMN GOAT ITS NOT BAIT ITS FOR YOU”

inej grabs her knife and starts praying

“HUG THE GOAT AND SHUT THE HELL UP”

and then arker casually says you’ll definitely die with the volcra weight

BUT JESPER SHOOTS THEM ALL

so now everything is fine

then a volcra rips open the top

and now arker is screaming

Inej is praying

jesper might as well be aLMOST crying

kaz looks unfazed

and you’re

well you

you’re screaming AT kaz

“kAZ BREKKER I WILL HAUNT YOU IN THE AFTER LIFE”

“THIS WAS THE STUPIDEST IDEA EVER”

“HOW ARE YOU SO CALM?? DO YOU REALIZE WE ARE GOING TO DIE”

you don’t die

jesper shoots it

you lived

for now

you get off the train

brush yourself off, pretend like nothing happened

kaz coughs looking at you

“my promise stands true, by the way”

“is that so?”

“I will haunt you if I die”

“I have no doubt”

“asshole”

[majormeilani]

Alright, leave it to my tired af brain due to sickness to come up with extremely stupid shit.

So, I saw your drawing of your OC this morning and took a nap this afternoon (it's currently around almost 8pm here) And then my brain blessed me with the following comedy.

DJ Grooves and Conductor, for some unknown reason, were inside Cassidy's hotel, they had some kind of conversation and then, Conductor being himself, made a rude comment about Cassidy's hair style and Grooves made a rather snarky remark too, I don't remember what exactly they said, but it resulted with Cassidy whistling and the normal- and pompadour crows started to chase after the two.

Both of the directors gasped and started bolting down the long hallway that was basically where my viewpoint was from, meaning that I could see Conductor and Grooves hightail it out of there, whilest being able to see their faces and the murder of crows that were chasing after them.

Grooves went down another hallway to his right, while the yellow owl kept running. Out of nowhere, a doorbell rang and both Conductor and the crows stopped. Conductor open the door that was apparently right in front of him exclaiming: "Oh! Me peperoni pizza!", (A thing of note is that everyone spoke English, normally I dream in my mother tongue),before handing basically me the money for his food. Conductor then took a sharp right, eating his pizza while running. Apparently the two hallways merged at the end and Grooves joined up with Conductor and grabbed a slice of his pizza before the dream abruptly ended.

I swear my dreams are like acid trips sometimes, but I thought I'd share that one XD

LMAOOO that's really funny jxhdhsdidduidkf

conductor running with a pizza is a hysterical image. also cassidy whistling to summon a group of crows to chase them is so real he probably would do that HSHSHSKFDHDFKLC

[summersun4youforever]

✨ Tag 9 people to learn more about their interests!

tagged by my fav @loulovehome thank you pu hope that this quells your curiosity! 

MUSIC

fav genre? not to be that person but i think i have a toe in most genres, i suppose my favorites have got to be anything taylor swift does, pop punk, r&b pop/new age r&b, and bluegrass

fav artist? again, not to be that person but i love so many artists! let’s do this based off of genre: taylor swift, 1D, 5sos, massive focus on ZAYN, the Avett brothers, and counting crows

fav song? fav song of all time (since i was young) is going to be come around by rhett miller but more currently i’d say you are in love by taylor swift and dRuNk by ZAYN

song currently stuck in your head? i have no idea how it got there but i have stressed out by 21 pilots stuck in my head??

5 fav lyrics? ok let’s do this kids. edit: this went in a “fav love song lyrics” way so sorry in advance.

1)  I hope that I don't sound to insane when I say / There is darkness all around us / I don't feel weak but I do need sometimes for her to protect me / And reconnect me to the beauty that I'm missin' (January Wedding - The Avett Brothers)

2)  Hands around my waist / You're counting up the hills across the sheets / And I'm a falling star / A glimmer lighting up these cotton streets / I admit I'm a bit of a fool for playing by the rules / But I've found my sweet escape when I'm alone with you (Disconnected - 5sos)

3)  This is the worthwhile fight / Love is a ruthless game / Unless you play it good and right / These are the hands of fate / You're my Achilles heel / This is the golden age of something good / And right and real (State of Grace - Taylor Swift) 

4)  What if I changed my mind / What if I said it's over / I been flying so long / Can't remember what it was like to be sober / What if I lost my lives? / What if I said "Game over"? / What if I forget my lies? / And I lose all my composure (Back to Life - ZAYN)

5)   I never said I was perfect / Or you don't deserve a good person to carry your baggage / I know a few girls that can handle it / I ain't that kind of chick, but I can call 'em for you if you want / I never said that you wasn't attractive / Your style and that beard, ooh, don't get me distracted / I'm tryna be patient, and patience takes practice / The fact is I'm leaving, so just let me have this (Jerome - Lizzo)

radio or your own playlist | solo artists or bands | pop or indie | loud or silent volume I slow or fast songs | music video or lyrics video | speakers or headset | riding a bus in silence or while listening to music | driving in silence or with radio on

BOOKS

fav book genre? murder mystery and young love!

fav writer? jane austen, lisa jewell, and rick riordan (nostalgia ok?!)

fav book? the way i used to be my amber smith, rebecca by daphane du maurier, and then she was gone OR watching you (both by Lisa Jewell)

fav book series? i guess the whole percy jackson situations? i have everything RR every wrote, and i liked it all but i havent touched the older ones in ages

comfort book? not one specifically but the nancy drew books

perfect book to read on a rainy day? bird summons by leila aboulela

5 quotes from your fav book that you know by heart? i hope i can name five...

1)  “The point is, life has to be endured, and lived. But how to live it is the problem.” “I am no traveller, you are my world.” (both are My Cousin Rachel by Daphne Du Maurier)

2)  “And I’m terrified he’ll see through the tough iceberg layer, and he’ll discover not a soft, sweet girl, but an ugly fucking disaster underneath.” (The Way I Used to Be by Amber Smith)

3)  "I cannot make speeches, Emma," he soon resumed; and in a tone of such sincere, decided, intelligible tenderness as was tolerably convincing. "If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am. You hear nothing but truth from me. I have blamed you, and lectured you, and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it. Bear with the truths I would tell you now, dearest Emma, as well as you have borne with them. The manner, perhaps, may have as little to recommend them. God knows, I have been a very indifferent lover. But you understand me. Yes, you see, you understand my feelings and will return them if you can. At present, I ask only to hear, once to hear your voice.” (Emma by Jane Austen) (sorry for the length, the shortened versions were not cutting it for me)

4)  “Read, read, read. That's all I can say.” (The Secret of the Old Clock by Carolyn Keene)

5)  “...amazing how boring you can get away with being when you’re pretty. No one seems to notice. When you’re pretty everyone just assumes you must have a great life. People are so short-sighted, sometimes. People are so stupid. I have a dark past and I have dark thoughts. I do dark things and I scare myself sometimes.” (Invisible Girl by Lisa Jewell)

hardcover or paperback | buy or rent | standalone novels or book series | ebook or physical copy | reading at night or during the day | reading at home or in nature | listening to music while reading or reading in silence | reading in order or reading the ending first | reliable or unreliable narrator | realism or fantasy | one or multiple POVS | judging by the covers or by the summary (im a very judgmental reader) | rereading or reading just once

TV AND MOVIES

fav tv/movie genre? i like dramedies, mockumentaries, and procedurals 

fav movie? ive got a massive list on my phone but ill pick Doob (No Bed of Roses) and 3-Iron as my favs for today

comfort movie? 2000s romcoms, im talking clueless, 13 going on 30, how to loe a guy in ten days, ten things i hate abt you, legally blonde

movie you watch every year? mamma mia and all listed in prev question

fav tv show? too many, currently im rewatching arrested development

comfort tv show? new girl

most rewatched tv show? new girl

ultimate otp? shawn and jules from psych (ultimate bc ive been watching since diapers literally)

5 fav characters? winston bishop, stiles stilinski, bellamy blake, clarke griffin, lydia martin

tv shows or movies | short seasons (8-13 episodes) or full seasons (22 episodes or more) | one episode a week or binging | one season or multiple seasons | one part or saga | half hour or one hour long episodes | subtitles on or off | rewatching or watching just once | downloads or watches online

super fun even though it took me an hour lmao, I'm tagging @technosoot @hometothecanyonmoon @sassylilnoodle @sushiniall @rosegold-thorns no pressure and sorry if youve already been tagged!

edit: i somehow managed to forget what i consider to be one of the greatest opening verses ever???? so bonus lyrics:

Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog / Where no one notices the contrast of white on white / And in between the moon and you / The angels get a better view / Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right (Round Here - Counting Crows)

[kazs-new-hat]

the s&b weirdos and what i think their favorite ice cream flavors are

cw // food

i actually did one for our beloved murder of crows and u can check it out here !

my boredom has PEAKED you guys omg okay here we go-

our ball of literal sunshine alina as : cheese

OKAY LISTEN STICK WITH ME HERE

if you disagree with me, and you've never had cheese ice cream before the door is there -> 🚪

just like alina's character, nobody really expects much from cheese flavored ice cream but guess what? when you have it a fair chance, it is AMAZING, UNIQUE, and POWERFUL. it might be a little strange to some, but it works in it's own way. do you see where i'm getting at here

also it's yellow and i associate yellow with alina bc sun summoner duh

i can see her discovering it when she and mal had to stay in novyi zem that one time and absolutely falling in love with it;; she probably has a plan to recreate a ravkan version sometime

everybody's favorite edgy dark lord as : butter pecan or something with nuts it's cookie dough

i like thinking of this ominous deceiving brooding guy liking something like cookie dough ice cream to contrast all the edge

a perfect balance you know?

but if asked, he'd say something with nuts just because nobody likes ice cream with nuts and he just wants to irk them

but secretly really loves cookie dough ice cream with choco chips. also i bet he's the typa kid to lick the spoon after making cookies or brownies

but he probably never eats dessert unless he absolutely has to

animal whisperer mal as : vanilla

classic, absolute classic

it's versatile;; you can eat it with pretty much anything. apple pie? whop a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top of that. you can eat it with fruits. put it in a a banana split. in a milkshake. amazing.

as a kid he probably stole whole tubs of it from the coolers with alina and he would eat it with peaches and whipped cream or something

also as a common flavor so if he wishes, he could get it from anywhere

also dont @ me because i never tried making vanilla ice cream but i think it's also the easiest to make so

pirate privateer-prince nikolai as : mint chocolate

i can hear the mint choco haters screaming

i don't know why he just seems like a mint-choco kind of person

he probably chooses this specific flavor for his birthday dinners and so everyone else has to also eat this flavor because he especially chose it. he just likes watching people wrinkle their nose in disgust while he enjoys his own helping happily

i have this random-ass headcanon that he did not like this flavor at first, but after being in a certain circumstance that left mint chocolate ice cream as the only desert option, he grew to like it so much and now it's a found memory of his days as a shipwright's apprentice

the person we all want to be friends with as : rum & raisin

in case you didn't know i'm talking about genya safin if you dont want to be friends with her stop reading

she def has a sweet tooth and also she likes to be FANCY therefore this is perfect for her

there really isn't any actual whole raisins in the desert (because who likes raisins?) but she likes the flavor of it

would probably also really enjoy eating it with like waffers or something

i also see her liking salted caramel or butterscotch or cotton candy--like the REALLY sweet ones you know what i mean? but rum & raisin is her all-time fav

our OP stormwitch zoya as : frozen yoghurt

probably not much of an ice cream person,,, she prefers the tartiness of a good cup of plain froyo

either tops it with very simple garnishes or the most extravagant and random ones depending on her mood. like there's no in between.

also likes it because you can top it with a lot more things and it'll work;;; it's hard to ruin froyo

usually has the plain one and tops it with a bunch of berrires or maybe marshmallows or choco chips if she's feeling particularly spontaneous

absolute mad genius and the purest person ever david as : mocha

for the uncultured: mocha is NOT the same as coffee, because mocha has chocolate

the absolute perfect blend of coffee and chocolate into ice cream form

very particular about the ratio of each, has probably even scribbled a plan somewhere in his notes about how to make the perfect ratio for mocha ice cream

also someone who doesn't eat desert that often, but absolutely loves the flavor and would not pass up a chance to eat it, like, ever

[mimiplaysgames]

Terraqua Week Day 5 (Mischief)

Summary: Aqua doesn’t have a crush on Terra. She doesn’t. Okay, she does. Or, Terra accidentally walks in on her in the shower. || Word Count: 3,476

Read on AO3

A/N: @terraquaweek I should mention a tiny little warning that there is a reference to nudity in this fic! It’s not described, so it’s totally T-rated but in case that is something you wanted to know. :) This is the shortest fic in the bunch, something cute and fun. The shower scene was a deleted scene in my Terraquanort fic, but I found that it just didn’t fit with the mood at all haha

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

nah.

Accidents don’t often happen to Aqua.

Ha.

Aqua swings her Keyblade upward. The force juggles golden rings assigned for training, usually tied to a pole for a bounce back. The Master mentioned some interesting techniques the other day in class: style changes, or the ability to enhance your power after a string of emotional attacks deep in the heat of battle, when you’re forced to rely on your heart to pull you out of a tough situation. Terra is sure to be developing new tricks, too.

There’s two months left until the Mark of Mastery. Letting the rings loose is a handicap Aqua places on herself: they’re heavy, resisting her magic to bounce in the air. This way, they should mimic what it’d feel like to fight a powerful enemy. She practices her pirouettes, and her waves of magic attempt to buoy them in the air in a violent tornado, but her spell flounders, a small push by a child in a playground. She adds a waltz step, a flip to give it a good kick, but it’s not enough. The rings crash back onto the grass. 

Aqua grunts and goes for the kill—but she twists her ankle at the crevice of a rock, landing on her knee.

“Stars,” she curses, wincing. Her knee is scraped, a hole ripped through her stocking, and her ankle aches. Stars. She casts Heal on her knee to soothe the sting and the gentlest summon of Ice to counter the swelling in her ankle. She tries to stand on it but can’t, so she casts more rounds of Heal and Ice spells until her leg can at least bear her weight.

Aqua limps to the castle through the back entrance, where the communal showers are. Showerheads, each with its own white curtain, are built on one side and sinks on the other in a wide open space. It’s part of a long hallway that connects to one of the gyms and a storage room down a corner. The floor is lilac concrete tile and drains, where it gives way to marble when you enter the castle proper. 

There was a time when the castle housed enough students to justify the size of this room, but Aqua is grateful she has direct access instead of having to drag this stupid ankle up a tower to her bedroom.

She shrugs off her sweaty, dirt-ridden clothes and shoes, and throws them in one corner, picking a shower that already houses soap, careful to put all her weight on one foot. The curtain draws around her in a u-shape and she turns the hot water knob, the pipes whistling as the water gushes through.

It gently scalds her at first but Aqua sighs when she gets used to it, rolling her shoulders and lifting her elbow over her head to stretch. The heat is good for the muscles. She presses her fingers near her neck, where it’s tight, and massages, then bends down to cast more Heal and Ice spells onto her ankle. Grime and sand flow down her skin, losing saturation as it curls down the drain under her feet. The soap stings when it runs over her scrape. 

She can’t keep making mistakes. 

Maybe the waltz step was too much and over-complicated things.

Aqua turns the knob off after rinsing her body and listens to the water drip onto the floor. The repetitive sound is hypnotic. She’ll journal her progress when she gets to her room and make comparisons with entries from the last few weeks. 

Hopefully, she’s improving at an acceptable speed despite the injury.

Aqua tests her ankle. She can’t flex it. Stars.

What is she missing when it comes to her technique? Does she need better endurance with her pirouettes? Does she have the time to do it right before the Mark of Mastery? 

When she realizes that she needs a towel to dry off—and there’s no towel in sight—she realizes that she’s been standing there wasting the time away. The shower is the greatest and the worst place to think.

Aqua figures she could grab a towel from the storage room nearby without anyone noticing. 

She opens the curtain.

Terra is standing right there, eyes as round as oranges with a heavy bag of fertilizer in his arms. He drops it. Aqua shuts the curtain with a screech.

“I’m sorry!” she hears him yell. Through the bottom of the curtain, she sees him scalping for excess that spilled over. Whatever hits the floor is mixing into the water, making mud. He’s barefoot.

“Terra, what the stars—?” she hisses, covering herself despite the curtain (a single piece of thin fabric).

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were in here!”

“How is that possible?”

“Why are you standing here doing nothing?”

“Just—Terra—” She groans loudly.

There is a pause as he walks backwards. “I-I didn’t see anything.”

“Get out of here.”

His footsteps slap across the floor, a subtle splash and the smack against the tile. Aqua peeks through the curtain when it’s quiet. She’s alone with a sequence of mud heading into the castle. Aqua grabs her clothes, slipping the bare minimum on despite its filth, and treks down the hall, purposefully taking opposite directions from his trail.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Their designated table in the library is always littered with books, damaged ones exchanged for the unread when the assignment deems it. There’s an extra stack for Ven since he’s a couple of years behind. 

Aqua (carefully) enters the library (ignoring the throbbing—it will heal quickly, she tells herself). She’s cleanly dressed and re-bathed, and takes a seat at the desk while Terra and Ven babble about the nonsense of a textbook they both hate. 

Terra gives her a quick, panicked glance before turning away from her and staring hard at the book in front of him.

Ven notices. “Aqua, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, just a sprain,” she says, suddenly clenched in the throat. What happened in the shower was nothing. No big deal. Sometimes best friends see things. So why is she, too, bordering on panic? Heat builds in her cheeks, so much that it hurts. Aqua tilts her head at an angle so her hair covers her face. 

“What’s with you two?” Ven asks and Aqua flinches. 

“Nothing, Ven,” Terra says too sternly. He bites his lip and stands too quickly. “A Heal spell isn’t enough for a sprain, what were you thinking?” he asks her without looking at her. He clears his throat loud enough to make Ven recoil, trying his best to hide how shaky his voice has become. “Excuse me,” Terra says before shuffling his feet like he’s holding his pee and disappearing.

When it’s quiet, Ven leans forward to get into Aqua’s personal space. “Okay, I know something’s up. What’s going on?” He squints. “Why is your face all red?”

“N-no reason.” Aqua opens a book. If she digs her entire face into it, it will look like she’s hiding on purpose. She lowers her chin (casually) to pretend she’s reading.

“You’re a liar.”

Aqua slams the book back down. “I do not lie, Ven.”

“Sure, you’re the definition of perfect. But you’re lying to me now.”

Aqua doesn’t know what to do. Her record is spotless. She’s a good student and a good person. She’s only ever told small, harmless white lies, about being tired when she doesn’t feel like it, or saying she isn’t hungry when she is so they don’t catch her sneaking in a brownie. But not this. 

“I’m not,” she says in the most unconvincing way.

“Fine, I’ll bug Terra about it—”

“There was,” Aqua says, her voice uneven (damn the stars), “an accident.”

Ven raises a skeptical brow. “And? How bad could that be?”

Aqua huffs and crosses her arms. It’s just Ven. Her other best friend, no judgment here. “Terra surprised me.”

Ven rolls his eyes.

“In the communal shower.”

He points and laughs at her, dropping his head in a fit and slamming a fist onto the surface of the table. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard,” he says in between gasps. “Oh, he must be suffering right now.”

Terra returns, more relaxed, carrying a wooden bowl and bandages. Still, he avoids looking Aqua in the eye.

“So…” Ven says with an obnoxious knowing to his voice and Aqua regrets everything. “Did you enjoy the view?”

Terra stares at her first, his brown skin pale. He glares at Ven with the ferocity of homicide.

Ven bursts into another shake of laughter. “Stars, don’t tell me. You’re blushing so hard.” 

At that, Aqua looks away. The thought is embarrassing and a… relief? At the same time? 

Terra doesn’t honor Ven with a reply. He trembles, forming a claw with his hand. When he waves it, the bookshelves shake. Several books zoom out and flap, hovering over Ven and hitting him on the head like crows on the attack. 

“Wait, stop, how are you doing this?” Ven shields his head with his arms, but Terra is bent on murder. Ven summons his Keyblade and cuts straight through the spine of a book. “Okay, okay, I get it!” The books glide close, ready to torpedo if necessary. Terra refuses to say anything. Ven steps away from the table, on guard. Then he smirks. He sticks his tongue out and bolts out the door. “Maybe that means you guys will finally kiss!” he yells down the hall.

Kiss.

A word as loud as a volcano erupting. 

Terra lets go of his magic and all the books drop to the floor, yet the crash is still quieter than Kiss, quieter than how hard her heart is drumming in her chest.

Without a word, Terra picks up the bowl with both of his hands and mumbles a short-lived Fire spell. It’s obvious that she’s to remove her sock and give her ankle to him. That’s the point, a turmeric and olive oil mix, gently heated to reduce inflammation. He doesn’t need to ask.

Aqua lifts her leg to remove her stocking.

Terra flinches and dramatically averts his eyes.

“It’s just a sock, Terra.”

Terra motions to look at her as a response, but stops himself. “You shouldn’t be walking on it,” he bites.

“Call me stubborn.”

“You’re stubborn.”

She fights the impulse to slap him on the back of the head. “Here.” She offers her naked leg to him.

Terra still won’t look at her, but digs two of his fingers into the mix and holds her calf with his other hand. He almost draws back from her skin. Stars, he is blushing. She is too, she can feel it, a boil in both of her cheeks, a flame building in her stomach. His fingers are warm and strong, a caress on her skin. She likes this. She has all the capability to do this herself but she doesn’t want to.

Shit.

Aqua crosses one arm over and brings her hand to her chest—her way of looking dignified as Terra rubs the solution over her ankle. She has been appreciating how broad his shoulders have gotten, how sharp his jawline is, how tall he’s grown. All things that most people would notice, surely. He’s beautiful, he’s always been.

He opens his mouth to say something.

Aqua panics. “If you dare make a comment—”

“You’ll kick me?” Terra lifts her leg higher out of spite and nearly pulls her off the chair. He takes the bandage and starts to wrap. 

Aqua stammers. How are they going to get through this?

“It was an accident, Terra.”

He freezes as though he can’t decide if he should finish the job or drop her leg. After a pause, he pitches his voice into a high octave to mimic her (badly). “Oh please, Terra, they’re just breasts. Nothing major.”

“You said—” she squeaks and covers her mouth. She shouldn’t be so naive. The heat in her cheeks bake. 

That’s fine. Best friends know lots of intimate things, especially with how long Terra and Aqua have been together. Some of her guts, though, are about to choke her esophagus. She hopes that doesn’t mean she wanted him to see anything. That she’d want him to enjoy it. 

Shit. 

Terra trembles in nervous laughter, soft and quiet, staring holes into her ankle as he knots the bandage. He’s blinking too much. “You’ll need to compress cold rice on it every now and then,” he says, suddenly serious. “And rest,” he stresses like it’s a curse word.

“Terra?”

He hesitates. “Yeah?”

Footsteps approach them from behind, too graceful to be Ven’s. Terra scrambles to pick up the books, choosing the sliced one first to slip into the bookshelf so the Master doesn’t notice. Aqua straightens herself out and slips on her shoe.

“Would someone mind explaining to me the mess in the communal showers?” the Master asks as he enters, before eyeing the mess in the library. He braces his hips with his fists. “What on earth are two concoting here?”

Her cheeks burn harder. 

“Not much, sir,” Terra says, gathering a tall stack of books under his chin. “Pranking Ven. The usual.” 

The tone of his voice is too suspicious and the Master knows them too well.

“Aqua,” the Master says, “you sustained an injury.”

All she can come up with is, “Not in the prank, sir.” 

“So the mud—?”

“In the shower,” Terra says quickly, without thinking. Overcompensating for the awkwardness. He bites his lip. “I mean, she slipped when she was showering.”

“He only knows because I told him,” Aqua says and she wants to slap herself. Of course that’s how Terra would find out in any normal story. Spelling it out makes it seem like he witnessed it himself. Terra glares her a new one.

Eraqus reads her with skepticism. He folds his hands behind his back and clears his throat. “Terra, you remember the discussion we’ve had some years ago regarding certain curiosities—”

“Yes, Master.” Terra inhales sharply and coughs.

The Master smiles. He looks pleased with himself. “You may continue to clear this up. And if you would please, keep the mischief at a minimum. It would be a great distraction from your work.”

Terra grits his teeth and Aqua lowers her eyes. “Yes, Master,” they both say slowly, like they’re about to step on hot coal. 

When the Master leaves, Terra drops books onto the table. He’s finally looking at her, his eyes such a striking depth. It suddenly melts her away. Why so sudden though? He’s always had dark eyes. 

Oh. She’s taken him for granted. Now she sees.

“What was that?” he whispers.

Aqua scoffs. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

He shakes his head. “I never want to have that kind of conversation with the Master ever again.” 

“At least let me help you,” Aqua says, nodding over to the last gathering of books on the floor.

“I’m not letting you stand on that foot.” He bends over to do the work himself.

“Then I’ll help you clean out the mud.”

Terra puts away the last handful of books, and chuckles to himself. “How do you want to get there? Crutches?”

“No, thank you.”

“Well, I either carry you in my arms or I fling you over my shoulder.”

Aqua needs to find a spell to hide the blushing. It aches. “What an obnoxious suggestion.”

“Then I’ll leave you here in the library.”

“No.”

Terra snorts. “Okay.” He hooks an arm under her knees and lifts the rest of her body like she’s a hollow ragdoll. So close to him, Aqua can feel the grooves of his muscle, his chest durable and broad. She wonders if he enjoys holding her this close, too. 

“I am really sorry,” he says as he takes her back towards the showers, passing by the open entrance to that gym, padded for wrestling. It’s not one they use often, since most of their training happens towards the front entrance. “I was on my way to take care of the squash. It was a dumb accident.”

“It’s okay,” Aqua says. She’s resting her head on his shoulder, staring at the way his neck moves when he speaks. Here, they don’t have to look at each other. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Yeah.” He sounds almost disappointed, if not relieved. “Glad we sorted that out, right?”

“Definitely.” She wraps her arms around his neck tighter. 

“What were you doing?”

“Pushing myself too hard.” Aqua scoffs.

“Typical Aqua.”

At the way he says that—mock-cocky, snivelish, playful—she blushes. He hasn’t changed since they were little, but it’s a side to him that only she and Ven sees.

There’s a lot to him that he only shows her.

They reach the storage room where the mop and towels would be stored, but he doesn’t enter. “We really need to install a door here,” he says. They reach the communal showers, and he bypasses them too. Terra finally settles her down on the terrace outside.

“Stay here, I’ll be back.”

“No, wait, I’m helping you—”

“Not with that foot, you’re nuts.”

“You can’t stop me from crawling back inside.”

“Then I’ll drag you back out.” He smirks, almost like he’s his old self but not quite. His old self isn’t this adamant. It makes her think that there’s something he isn’t saying, that maybe she’s misreading him, stuck between doing his duty to help her and needing time away from her. That he’s hiding it all behind a joke, and she has to let him go.

“Okay.” She crosses her arms. 

“Rest isn’t terrible for you,” he says as he walks away. 

Aqua stares at dry dirt. Down this path are the flower and vegetable gardens, contained by a fence. Beyond is the trail that leads right to the spot where she started this ridiculous ordeal. If only she didn’t trip. She’s been training for years. She’s too skilled to be having accidents, too far in her studies to think this hard about her feelings for Terra.

Too far in her studies and too mature to keep denying that she wants him to look at her. She does.

She gets tapped on the head. 

“Wait here,” Terra says, heading towards the gardens, barely giving her a glance.

Aqua anchors her elbows onto her thighs and drops her chin into her hands. A sudden thought invades her mind: he’ll come back from whatever chore he has to finish here, take her to her room, and now that everything is said and done, they’ll pretend like none of this has happened.

And that is that. A weird day finished, a blip in history.

Terra comes back into view faster than she anticipated, holding a bouquet of orange and blue flowers in his hand. 

Aqua uses the wall to pull herself up, keeping most of her weight on the good foot. “What’s this?”

Terra opens his mouth to speak, and leaves it there. He licks his lips and offers the flowers. “Um…” He scoffs. “I’m bad at this.”

They smell nice. Roses and bluestars. They must be his way to apologize. “They’re beautiful.”

“Um…” He clears his throat, rubbing something raw at the back of his neck. “Would you like to, uh…” He glances at the ground beneath him, summoning the courage to look at her and speak clearly, overusing his hands to demonstrate. “There’s actually a really pretty cave nearby, full of crystals and minerals. It’s spectacular, and I’ve always wanted to take you to see it.” He blushes, swallowing. “Um, when you feel better, would you like to come see it with me? Spend the night, I mean?” He blushes harder, scoffing. “It’s a nice hike and it’s a great camping spot.”

Aqua squeezes the stems of the flowers and her heart hammers too hard to find her voice. “That sounds…” She exhales. “Nice.” She almost asks for permission—from who, she doesn’t know. Terra is asking her. She’s asking herself. “Yes, I’d love to.” She hopes to the stars she’s blushing less than him. 

Terra has no answer except for a nervous giggle, his eyes gleaming. He leans forward and kisses her on the cheek, whipping himself back with a hand to his face like he’s committed the worst sin in the world. 

It’s warm where he left his lips. Aqua touches it with her fingers.

Embarrassed laughter sputters out of Terra’s mouth with many unnecessary apologies.

Aqua smiles, and it comforts him. “Can you take me back inside?” she asks, that smile twisting her cheeks. It hurts so good.

“Sure,” he breathes. “Anywhere you want.”

They exchange rogue giggles and excited glances as he carries her. They talk as if nothing indeed has happened, where they avoid any mention of mischief to be had in the near future, at least for now. Maybe the stars threw her off balance this morning on purpose. Best friends. They’ve always been.

[thewebcomicsreview]

The Promotion

For the first time in the five years, the Burnmax Deadly Acid Factory whirred to life. After OSHA found out that none of the catwalks over the coverless vats of acid had guard rails, the factory had been shut down so fast they never even drained the tanks, which still burbled threateningly. Murderize wasn't sure if it was actually still dangerous. It made sense to him that Deadly Acid left out in the open would turn bad, like milk, but if the new boss wanted the mayor's daughter slowly lowered into a vat of acid, he wasn't going to say no to a paycheck. Times had been tough for henchmen ever since the new crew of masks hit town. His old crew, Mutilate and Comeuppance, were stuck in the Asylum now, and he was lucky to get a C-list criminal like Doctor Funkenstein to work for, even if the pay was worse and the bell-bottoms looked dumb and the free-love orgies had to be cancelled because there weren't any girls. Still beat working for Catboy.

The mayor's daughter, Barbara Whatsherface, was doing a good job of being tied up and screaming, though. Sometimes you'd kidnap a woman and she'd just cry or something and sticking her in a deathtrap got awkward. Non-consensual actors rarely stuck to their roles, not that Muderize cared, but the bosses always got mad when it happened. God forbid a big dramatic crime have victims who didn't resist being murdered in a fun way. "MMMMM! MMMMM!" screamed the mayor's daughter through her gag. It was real convincing, which was one of the advantages of using real victims and actually trying to kill them.

Doctor Funkenstein flipped the switch. "It's Alive! Alive! But soon, my dear, you won't be!" he said, which was a bit weak. He was clearly more committed to the "Funk" than the "enstein" of his gimmick. A tall lanky man in a purple suit and labcoat with a large disco ball for a head, Funkenstein was kind of a terrible boss to work with. Not deadly enough to be thrilling, not funny enough to be a good time, not quite thematically cohesive enough to get the good headlines. He'd been working on this rebrand for weeks, and hoped it would get him the success so many had expected of him two years ago. Murderize was unconvinced, but he wasn't paid to think. The mayor's daughter was halfway down. Murderize flicked his cigarette into an acid vat and unbuttoned his shirt. If the good guys wanted to save dear sweet Brenda or whatever, they were running out of time. Sometimes you actually got away with crimes and then you got to go home early.

CRASH!

Glass rained down from the broken skylight as the Wonder Five dropped in to save the day. Damn it.

Wonder Red landed on the catwalk before him. The founder and the leader of the group, he was still a dork in his red spandex onesie and motorcycle helmet. Wonder Red had hoped the other Wondernauts would change their names to be Wonder Blue and the like, but none of them did, and he just looked like a cosplayer who wandered into an actual superteam by mistake.

"Disco is dead, Doctor Funkenstein", said Wonder Red, "And so are your plans for world domination!"

"You're the one who's dead, Dunder Red", shouted Doctor Funkenstein, "For you've walked straight into my Saturday Night Deathtrap!". He leaned back, and lasers spewed in all directions from his disco ball head.

Muderize let the leaders have their fun. With hero teams as with villains, the henchmen were the ones doing the real work. Already Snakes flew into the mayors daughter, cutting the ropes with his teeth and he carried her off to safety. When Already Snakes flew off with your girl, you were never getting her back, so Muderize fired his Disco Gun (which was just a glock with glitter on it) at Animal Cracker, who cracked some birds into existence in the path of the bullets.

The birds disappeared in a puff of smoke, which hid Animal Cracker, but Murderize had fought these guys enough times to know AC liked to land an elephant on people, and ran out of the way. The elephant slammed into the ground, broke its legs, and poofed out of existence. AC dropped gracefully to the ground, and threw up a Gorilla Shield fast enough to block the second and third bullets Murderize fired, but not the first one, which grazed his arm. As the gorilla poofed, AC jumped behind a one of the acid vats. Shooting a giant vat of acid was a rookie move, so Murderize took cover himself. The two women members of the Wonder Five were busy with the other henches. Pink Moon had managed to pick out the rookies and was doing the "Oh no, I'm a poor defenseless girl what will I do" act, which every henchman fell for the first time. The smarter henches were left to Sorcera.

Murderize suddenly realized that a whole entire hero was dedicated to fighting just him. He tried not to get emotional about it, but if the Wonder Five had elevated him in their minds from henchman to miniboss, that could open up all kinds of career opportunities for him, especially having scored a wound.

Of course, scoring a kill, even against Animal Cracker, would do even more. He shook himself a little to get his head back in the game. AC had been hiding behind that vat for too long. He was up to something.

He barely had time to finish thinking before a murder of crows shot out from both sides of the barrel. He knew that Animal Cracker's animals got weaker the more of them he summoned, and that just the sound of a gunshot would be enough to dispel them. This was a distraction, AC wanted him to fire wildly at the birds from a distance. He was too smart for that. He waited for the birds to get close before firing, and made sure to aim his gun away from the acid tank while keeping an eye on it to make sure Animal Cracker didn't bail. Bang. One shot, and all the birds poofed into a big cloud.

A big cloud directly on top of him, obscuring his vision. Shit. He coughed, and tried to see which way the inevitable charging rhino would come from so he could dodge it. He didn't see it. He felt it, though. Hurt just as bad as the last time he got Rhino'd. He flew into a piece of machinery, and collapsed to the ground in pain. He blindly groped for his gun, but the only thing he felt was Animal Cracker slapping the cuffs on.

"I tagged you, though", said Murderize, as AC finished handcuffing him. AC said nothing, but there was no denying the nasty gash on his shoulder. "Gotta report that".

Animal Cracker sighed. "Yeah, yeah". Above them, the music stopped. Seemed like Doctor Funkenstein's Dancing Queen's Gambit had failed. He's barely lasted longer in a fight than Murderize himself did, even if it was against the star.

"You gotta tell 'em. Come on! You gotta tell 'em Murderize tagged you!"

"I'm not your PR guy, man"

"Come on, make me look cool and it'll make you look cooler for beating me. We both win!"

"You know how you could really win? By giving up a life of crime"

"Bro. C'mon. Bro".

There was a long pause. Socera broke it, swooping down with six experienced henchmen tied up behind her in magical ropes. Pink Moon was with her, carrying eight rookies in a net. "Yo, AC. You only got one?", Sorcera said, smirking.

Animal Cracker looked at Murderize for a moment, then at Pink Moon, before turning to Sorcera. "This isn't just a henchman, Sorcera. This is Murderize. He's.....he's a mini-boss". He pointed at the gash in his arm "Tagged me and everything"

Murderize looked down at the ground, trying not to let Sorcera see him smile

[fruit-teeth]

Chronicles of Love and War (chapter 7)

“This one is ‘The Book of Gretel’, a fairy tale book a witch gave to daddy a long time ago!” Lucy explained, showing the book’s front cover to Olivia. “It’s not a fun book, though. There’s not a lot of pictures.”

“I don’t care about pictures,” Olivia confessed with a shrug, curiously lifting the cover to look at the first page. “My daddy taught me how to read books with no pictures when I was really little!”

Lucy tilted her head at that. “Your daddy? I didn’t see him. Where is he? Is he one of those guys?”

Olivia shook her head. “No…he died.”

“Oh,” Lucy got very quiet, unsure of what to say in response to that. “I…I didn’t know he died.”

“It’s okay,” Olivia assured, trying to remain composed. “It was a while ago. What’s that book over there?” she pointed out a black and red book resting on the shelf behind Lucy.

Lucy turned around, seeing which book Olivia was pointing out. “This one?” she took it off the shelf, showing it to her friend. “It’s about monsters, ghosts, scary things.” The book was titled, 105 Beasts and Ghouls from this Earth and Hell Itself. Lucy flipped to a random page, pointing out a drawing there. “This is one – The Corrupt!”

“The Corrupt?” Olivia leaned in, intrigued as she read the text beside the drawing.

"The Corrupt is not a single entity, but rather a group of beings who share a common mentality," the writing said. “Lucifer created The Corrupt as part of Hell's Army to be an unstoppable murdering machine, destroying without mercy or discretion. He walled them away in a different reality when he discovered they were far too powerful for him to manage. For unknown reasons, the Corrupt, like crows, are drawn to anything shiny, especially gold. They can be summoned with gold or silver, but many people believe summoning The Corrupt is reckless and dangerous. Sending them back to the other dimension is easy, but tracking them down and capturing them is extremely difficult.”

Olivia sat back, shuddering after reading that. “That can’t be real – it sounds too scary!”

“I dunno if its real,” Lucy shrugged, looking at the drawing herself. “Daddy says sometimes the guys who write these books ‘embellish’ details. Whatever that means,”

“Embellish! They make it better than it is," Olivia clarified, pleased that she had grasped the meaning of the word.

Lucy glanced up, and she grinned. “You knew that word!”

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Merasmus poked his head into the room. “What are you two doing? Are those my books?”

“I was just showing them to her,” Lucy clarified, standing up with the black and red book still in her hand. “Is that okay?”

“I suppose it’s all right…just be careful!” Merasmus walked in, carefully plucking the book from Lucy’s hands. “Many of these books are the only ones of their kind.”

The ringing of the doorbell tore away Merasmus’ attention, and he sighed. “Wait just a moment – someone is at the door!”

As soon as he opened the door, he was greeted by the sensation of Soldier crashing into him, a sensation he was all too acquainted with. Merasmus let out a yell as he hit the ground, and Soldier announced cheerily, “Hello, Merasmus! We brought you something!”

Merasmus grunted, struggling to sit up. “What!?”

Demoman entered the house behind Soldier and handed the wizard a ziplock bag containing a strange, loose powder. “This was inside a bomb, and I dunno what it is! You mind taking a look?”

Merasmus squinted, taking the bag of powder. “What on earth…?”

Just then, Miss Pauling stepped around the corner to see what was going on. “Solly! Demo! What are you two doing here?”

“I found some powder inside that pipe bomb and I couldn’t figure out what it was,” Demo explained, gesturing to the bag. “I wondered if Merasmus knew what it was!”

“Odd…” Merasmus murmured, poking the bag a bit. “Well, I can look at it. I feel a strange…energy from it. Where did you say you found this?”

“In a pipe bomb someone sent to Mr. Hale!” Demo clarified. “Wasn’t a very good pipe bomb, but still…”

Soldier got to his feet and smoothed his pants out. “We found your house, Merasmus!”

“Yes, I’m aware…” Merasmus sighed.

“Okay, well, I’m glad you’re here,” Pauling took a breath. “Spy called me and told me what happened today…”

Demoman gave a curt nod. “Aye. So you know that the mayor is…?”

“I do.” Pauling confirmed, pursing her lips into a tight line. “All I know is that no good is gonna come of this...”

“What do you think we should do?” Demo wanted to know. “I mean, we couldn’t get any answers from that bastard, at least not yet.”

Miss Pauling leaned against the counter, fixing the hair away from her eyes. “As of now, I told Spy to talk to some townsfolk here and ask about what exactly Bill-Bel’s been doing here in Teufort. I swear, I heard nothing about an election here, not from Saxton or anyone. These are very weird circumstances,”

“The townspeople?” Soldier frowned. “But what if he sees the police?”

“Don’t worry, this is Spy we’re talking about,” Pauling pointed out. “He’s got plenty of ways to wear disguises and to trick the average person.”

“Sure hope you’re right…” Demo pointed out, sighing.

Indeed, Spy had gotten on a disguise set. Not just for himself, but for Scout as well.

“Man, why do I gotta wear this?” Scout huffed, picking at the wig he had to keep on his head. “It’s itchy and smells like cats!”

“I think it looks cute!” Angelica giggled, ruffling it. She glanced over at Spy, who was getting seated beside her in the restaurant booth. “You sure he needs to wear it, though?”

“I would feel better if he did,” Spy pointed out. “The police force in this area can be rather…unpredictable.”

At that moment, a tired-looking waitress stepped over to their table. “Hi, and welcome to Flapjack’s, home of the ‘meat salad’,” the waitress droned. “Can I start you off with a lukewarm beverage? The hot water heater isn’t working because—” she suddenly stopped, her eyes falling on Scout. “Hey, wait a second – you’re that guy that almost got executed! The one with the lawyer lamp!”

Scout quickly tried not to make eye contact with her. “Huh? No! No, I’m a different guy!”

In a split second, flashes of how he should handle the situation began to flash in Spy’s mind, but Angelica swooped in and handled it for him.

“Hey, there! Uh,” Angelica glanced at the waitress’s name tag. “Kate! You got any ginger ale? I love your hair, by the way!”

The waitress stopped, seemingly taken aback by the fact that she’d received a compliment. “Oh! Um…thanks! Uh,” she cleared her throat, getting back to herself. “What was I saying? Oh, ginger ale – yeah, of course we got ginger ale.”

The other two ordered as well, and once the waitress walked away, Scout breathed a breath of relief. “Thanks, Ma.”

“No problem, hun,” she gestured to Spy. “I was coverin’ for this guy all the time back in the day,”

Spy clicked his tongue. “How could I forget? It did not happen very often, though, make no mistake…”

“Hmm, I remember it happening a couple of different times,” Angelica hummed, nudging Spy. “Remember my cousin Rodney’s birthday? That sever with the toupee?”

Spy groaned. “Don’t remind me…”

“What? What happened?” Scout wanted to know, intrigued.

“Keep your voice down,” Spy suggested. “We do not know who could be listening…”

“Who? That old woman?” Scout gestured to a woman who was sitting in the corner with a long, thick scarf.

When the woman noticed Scout gesturing towards her, Angelica spoke to her. “Sorry, ma’am. That’s a lovely scarf you got on!”

“Why, thank you!” the woman replied sweetly. “I made it during the knitting meetings down at the new community center!”

“There’s a new community center?” Scout asked, intrigued. “I thought they’d never fix up that old place!”

The woman nodded pleasantly. “Yes! Our new mayor, Bill Waters, has been extra good about keeping everything up around here,”

Scout and Spy exchanged a quick look, before Spy took over, taking a long breath. “What else has he been doing here? We have not been to this town in quite a while, madame.”

“Oh, he’s done so much for us!” the woman gushed. “We had an extension built on the mall, and now we have so many more shops and jobs for everyone! My grandson got a job working at the new mall café, and he’s doing so well!”

A man sitting in the booth in front of the woman also spoke up. “It’s true! Heck, I met Mr. Waters at the gas station the other day and he is just the greatest man. He really knows what he’s talking about!”

Spy bit back a bit of irritation at that, but he pressed on. “And when did he get elected, exactly?”

“Well, actually—” the man suddenly stopped, squinting in thought. He got very quiet, before saying, “Y’know, I don’t remember voting for him! When they unveiled the new pool at the community center around eight months ago, I remember thinking to myself, "hum, he doesn't look like our mayor," but he got so much done in those few weeks that I didn't mind! He’s a great guy.”

“I think I remember voting, but I never remember things,” the old woman agreed. “Did you see that latest project? He’s helping to build a new clock tower, right here in the square! I was at the town council meeting when they showed the drawings of what it’s going to look like – oh, I’m so excited! Ms. Applegate, the very nice lady he works with, gave me a little pamphlet about the new jobs it'll create... I believe it's in my car; I'll go get it!”

“No, no, that’s not necessary,” Spy assured, making mental note of all of this. “This Ms. Applegate person…who is she?”

The woman pursed her lips in thought. “I’m not quite sure…she must be related to the Applegate Family! Shame what happened to them…”

This caught Scout’s attention. “Uh…what happened to the Applegate family? Something bad?”

"Yes, they were burned many, many years ago because some people thought they were witches," the woman replied. “I was a little girl when it happened…that was the council back then finally decided to ban witch-burnings! Imagine that!”

The waitress stopped at the table, setting the drinks down and taking meal orders. As soon as she walked away, Angelica reached for her ginger ale and took a long, long sip.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, setting the drink down and staring into Spy’s eyes. “What the hell’s wrong with this place?”

Spy just patted her hand sympathetically. “You’ll get used to it, darling…” he then pulled out a pen from his pocket, making some notes on a napkin.

Scout leaned over his shoulder to see what he was doing. “What ya writing?”

“This ‘Applegate’ family…” Spy murmured, setting the pen down. “Something suspicious is going on here…and I do not care for it.”

The day continued as normal as it could be.

Sniper took it upon himself to cope the way he usually did: by shooting his rifle. In the outdoor training area, he lined up some empty bottles along the fence and shot at each one, one by one. Not for practice, as he knew he was already a perfect shot, but for releasing what it was he felt. Every time he fired, he felt as though a shard of his pain was being shot through the rifle’s nozzle. It almost never failed him.

Except, today, he was not feeling any better. Once he lined up the last few bottles and prepared to shoot, he was startled by a voice behind him: “Hello?”

Sniper startled and turned around, only to see Bronislava standing there, staring at him.

“Oh,” Sniper cleared his throat, laying the gun down. “Hey – the gunshots aren’t bothering you or the others, are they? I can go into the wooded area if it’s a problem.”

“No, no,” Bronislava assured. “My sisters and I? Our mama? We hear gunshots all of the time, when we were young. Does not bother us.”

Sniper nodded, taking this in. “Huh. Okay.” he smoothed his hair back, looking at his palm and grimacing at how sweaty he’d become in such a short time. “Ugh, sorry I’m a mess,”

Bronislava laughed a little. “Is fine. Um…Misha said you were upset. I came to check on you.”

“Mm,” Sniper leaned against the fence a bit. “Did he tell you why?”

“No,” she shrugged. “Just that you were upset...he did not say what happen.”

Sniper nodded. “Good, ‘cause I don’t wanna talk about what happened. But I’m fine, I promise…I’ll be okay,”

Bronislava studied his expression for a moment, before gesturing to the base. “Misha and our mama are in there, making some lemonade. You want some?”

“I…” Sniper was about to decline, but as he returned his gaze to the fragments of glass bottles littering the grass, he thought that a glass of lemonade would perhaps be a better option than firing aimlessly. “Yeah, okay.” He picked the rifle up, putting it back into its case. “I’ll be right in; you go on ahead.”

Bronislava grinned at him, turning to leave. “Yes! Yes…I will see you in there!”

As Sniper got his rifle zipped up into the case, he smiled to himself just a little bit. Maybe distractions were important, here in this moment.

[grayintogreen]

Okay, I actually have two most memorable scenes from your fics. The first is this one

"Well. Untrue. Lucien was always nice when his temper was even and he was on top of the world. What he wasn’t was kind."

Which may not even count as a scene. But that idea for Lucien has sunk so deeply into my view of him, it is not only one of the first things I think of for your works but one of the first things I think of for Lucien as a character.

The other scene, the one that locked you down for an author to follow for me, is the when the wizards accidentally summon Kingsley. Just how everyone reacts to it, the exasperation towards the wizards, Kingsley confused but rolling with it. Lucien just being Lucien and Molly deciding to keep him. I love it.

Sometimes you're just like "i want three identical Tealeafs in a room and I want everyone to be mad its their problem" and I am SO GLAD that scene stuck out for you. I'm dying.

ALSO HAH! Yeah, that line was months in the making of doing my total deconstruction of Lucien's character, and I'm so honored it stuck with you that much!! It's just the most important aspect of who he is to me, because... Okay, let me just take a seat here, and put on my Lucien scholar hat. Okay here we go.

See, in Six of Crows, there's this scene Kaz has where he goes "when people already know you're a monster, you needn't waste time doing every monstrous thing" or something like that, and that line always stuck out for me because I read SoC when I first started out writing this church takes no conversions and it had a definite influence on some of the style of that story in the early chapters, but I digress. That line doesn't TOTALLY fit Lucien as he is, but Lucien as he sees himself? Yeah.

He KNOWS he's not a great person. Has never TRIED to be a great person. The world would never have allowed him to be a good person, as far as he's concerned, because there's something wrong with his blood and he's half in Hell as it is. But because he's already insta-damned in his mind, he doesn't have to just roll with it. He can spit in the face of expectation. People think he's going to be a classless, murderous piece of trash, and instead of being that, he's polite! He asks permission even when everyone around him is like "Um if we say no you're gonna kill us???" because that's the nice thing to do. He expects a certain amount of manners because he offers a certain amount of manners and gets absolutely petty as shit when that simple bit of courtesy is ignored. So yes, he could torture, kill, maim, etc with impudence just because he CAN, but that would be RUDE. It's better for his image if he waits until he's provoked and then be efficient about it.

Like dude... Vess fucked him up beyond all reasonable belief and there's no reason he couldn't have dragged her death out, but he chose the quick option. Like yeah, the Brain Crush is not a fun death, but it is a FAST death.

tl;dr I'M GLAD THAT LINE STUCK WITH YOU, because it's a very important part of how I view Lucien and what honestly makes him a genuinely interesting villain- that you can behave like the nicest, most pleasant (if not inherently skeevy because low charisma cult leader) character and still be a roiling mass of shit, especially since I don't think Lucien's "niceness" is really genuine. He's not actually a nice, polite person, even if sometimes he buys into the con that he is, because he's so low wisdom he can't even insight check his own ass.

[nothewraith]

Shadow Business:

I’m bored, so here’s Part 1 of the unedited “kaz and inej as sun and shadow summoners” fic I started in December. When I actually post it with chapter 2 at some point it will probably be somewhat different. 

Summary: Contrary to popular expectations, Kaz Brekker is a sun summoner and Inej Ghafa is a shadow summoner. This doesn’t change their stories much, but it does change the stories that people tell about them. And now, there’s like, implicit moral implications to their actions.

//Inspired by discussions of who should have shadow or sun summoning powers, and how my mind was firmly changed from shadow summoner Kaz to sun summoner Kaz. This takes place briefly before the events of Six of Crows.

Notes: We don’t hear a lot about how the Darkling’s powers actually work (besides the murder) so I had fun reimagining shadow summoning. I thought a bit about how Alina uses the power, and how that would translate to Inej- e.g. more passive but still critical use of the ability. I also think Inej would use it to avoid killing when possible. I want to be careful to not undermine Inej or Kaz’s non-Grisha skills or the Inej’s sentiment in CK about ‘the rest of us, the nobodies and the nothings, the invisible girls’ which I think is so key to the narrative, so I tried to incorporate the powers in a way that makes sense

There’s also a little reference to my struggle to figure out what to call shadow summoning without mentioning the D*rkling. The names of the guards are borrowed from Joost’s chapter (may his memory be a blessing :/ ).

Chapter 1

Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason. That’s what everyone in the Barrel whispered about Dirtyhands, and the other corners of Ketterdam, too. Inej never really believed this. Kaz was skilled at devising complicated schemes and weighing all of the possibilities at each step. You can’t be a strategizer and not need a reason. That just didn’t make much sense.

Regardless, Inej knew she certainly needed a reason. She was a bit weary of being told half of the plan. The rest would always reveal itself- just in time. Did Kaz trust her too much, thinking she would understand more than what he said out loud, or did he not trust her enough? Inej did what she had to as a member of the Dregs, but she hated being expected to kill without cause. He could’ve at least told her why they had to meet here, at Third Harbour. This was where the upper ranks of the merchers received and sent out shipments of expensive goods. It was bound to be crawling with both the stadwatch and stakeholder’s private guards. It wouldn’t be worthwhile to steal anything- there was no way they could bribe or blackmail so many individuals, and there would be no point to do it here anyway. 

So of course there must be a deeper reason. Inej knew the secrets of half of the stadwatch and plenty of the Merchant Council’s staff. It was a given she would be able to identify the majority of the personnel present tonight. Did Kaz expect her to figure out the purpose of all this on her own? If so, he would be disappointed in her. Inej just sat perched on the balcony of an office building, with the dock in clear sight. She had had trouble finding a place to wait where she wouldn’t be visible, even at this time of night. Near the Harbour, bonelight illuminated a wide swath of space with a greenish glow. Typically, Inej had no problem concealing herself with the natural shadows found in the contours of the city, but she wanted to be cautious tonight, when she was uncertain of her purpose. Inej opened her palms, allowing a darkness, hazy as the bonelit air, to pool in her hands. As she spread her fingers, she cloaked herself in the shadow. Inej imagined her silhouette blended seamlessly with the night. 

Sometimes, she wondered what her family would think of her power. Most of the techniques that Inej utilized in the streets of Ketterdam had been learned on the tightropes and swings; shadow summoning was simply a tool to assist with these skills. When Inej imagined seeing her family again and telling them all the things she had to do here in Ketterdam, the use of her power didn’t really stand out from the rest. She had been forced to become a different girl in the city, and the discovery of her power was just one facet of that other girl. Would her family even recognize her? They would probably be worried at first, maybe even suspicious, for they knew the previous shadow summoner was the cause of so much misery, but Inej would reassure them. That was, if she ever saw her family again- right now, with the possibility so distant, she couldn’t think about what she would say to them. 

A few figures paced below along the perimeter of the Harbour. They were clearly stadwatch. Kaz had yet to make an appearance. It seemed like by this point, there should have been a change of shifts- the same stadwatch guards had been patrolling this area for quite some time. Usually they changed rounds on the half hour. Inej watched as three men decked out in the livery of various merchers joined them. They were talking- Inej couldn’t quite hear them from her position on the balcony. She slid down along the gutter soundlessly, until her feet made contact with the ground. Here, she was less than ten feet from the nearest guard. It would be nearly impossible to remain hidden here, if not for the inky darkness that Inej wove around herself. 

It became obvious rather quickly that they were talking about Kaz. 

“The whole Dirtyhands thing is bullshit, of course,” a stadwatch guard with a grizzly beard was saying. “I’ve heard, from very reputable sources, that he’s actually a sun summoner.” 

A guard in crimson livery guffawed. “I think that’s bullshit. If anything, ‘dirtyhands’ would be a reference to being like the Darkling- you know, all dark and evil and whatever.”

Inej shook her head at this. She knew real darkness; she had experienced the worst of human depravity. In her time in the Menagerie, Inej had seen the embodiment of cruelty wrapped up in a beautiful blonde woman dripping with diamonds and clothed in the brightest of fabrics. She was not such a fool to think colors meant morality. Things were not so simple. 

“Not sure what that sort of Grisha category would be,” the guard added. “I’ve only ever heard of Darklings having the power- darkness summoning? Anyway, I’m pretty sure the only sun summoners were those folks who were around in the Fold, and their power faded after a day or so. And like I said, only Darklings get Darkling powers so this Brekker couldn’t have it. ”

“There was only one Darkling, I thought we all knew that by now,” the first man interjected. 

The guard in crimson ignored this correction and continued. “How would there even be another Sun Summoner? Would he have to be Alina’s kid then? So much for the ‘bastard of the barrel’...”

Another stadwatch guard, a young man with a crisp new uniform and a thick mustache, furrowed his brow. “He would still be a bastard. She wasn’t married before she died. Technically that’s illegitimate, right? But the logistics wouldn’t work out. Brekker is what, seventeen or eighteen, and Alina was probably the same when she died. That doesn’t make sense.”

This discussion of her saint was making Inej’s stomach turn. And, regardless, their parentage didn’t matter; this kind of power wasn’t necessarily inherited. Alina had been an orphan from a nameless village, not the daughter of some mighty Grisha. Inej didn’t know Kaz’s family, but she was certain his background wasn’t much grander than that of his predecessor. Inej herself had come into her power not long ago. Nina would say that she had always been Grisha and had always had this power, and perhaps that was true. Or perhaps it was different for those with her abilities. All Inej knew, was that one night in the Menagerie, she had prayed for darkness to swallow her, and her prayers had been answered.  

The guard in crimson made a sound of agreement. “Exactly, thank you Rutger.” He turned to the first stadwatch guard. “Your sources are bullshit, Henk.” 

Henk threw up his hands. “Why does it even matter? I don’t even know why you all are talking about some Barrel teenager.” 

“Because if we’re going to deal with this Barrel teenager, I want to know whether he’s going to hit us with shadows, light, or nothing at all.” Inej’s stomach sunk. It had also become obvious rather quickly that they were expecting Kaz. Did he know? Could she warn him? 

“I think at the least he’ll hit you with his cane,” said a new voice. Inej peered through the thick darkness to look at the man’s face. He seemed familiar. 

Rutger greeted the man with a nod. “Eamon.” 

Oh Saints. Eamon was a member of the Dime Lions. What was he doing here? How did he know Kaz was supposed to come to the Harbour tonight? There must’ve been a leak. 

Inej inched further, as close as possible without brushing against the guard before her. She wrapped darkness around herself more tightly and gripped the handles of her knives. 

She didn’t know that much about Eamon. Inej knew the identities of every Dime Lions member, of course, but he was a fairly recent member. Not that Inej could see how his secrets would be particularly useful in this situation. 

“Thanks for meeting me here, gentlemen,” Eamon said. “I’m not expecting Brekker for a while- we have a distraction prepared.” Inej tried not to think too much about what the distraction could entail; Kaz would want her to focus on the valuable information she could gather. Already, she had identified every person present and knew that they were working with the Dime Lions. “Now, what do you have for me.”

Henk took out a piece of paper and passed it to Eamon. It was too dark for Inej to read it. “These are all of the expected shipments at Third Harbour for the month. Plus when the jurda’s coming in at the other Harbours- still not sure why you all care so much about jurda, but that’s not my business.” 

Eamon flashed a dimpled smile. “Not mine either. Boss’s orders, you know how it is.” 

The guards chuckled in agreement. “Do you know what he wants with Brekker?” Rutger asked. 

Eamon shrugged. “I figure the same as all of us- to get him out of the way. It was lucky that Doughty overheard Big Bollinger talking to Kaz about coming down here tonight. He told Pekka, and it just came together. Two birds, one stone; I get the shipping plans, you get your money, we all knock the Dregs down a few pegs.”

It was like it always was. The pieces of Kaz’s plan started to piece together. There was no reason for him to chat with Bollinger about meeting Inej. The information had been leaked intentionally. Kaz wanted her here to collect information about this exchange, then to help him with whatever set up he had prepared. Or least that’s what she thought. 

Inej waited a few more minutes to see if she could glean any more valuable information. However, it seemed that anything they wanted would be on the shipping papers Eamon had. In the meantime, waiting to ambush Kaz, the men had resumed their conversation theorizing on whether Kaz was Grisha. She unsheathed two knives. Sankta Petyr in her left hand. Sankta Alina in her right hand. Inej wondered if her saints would find it ironic. 

Inej padded through the shadows, until she was directly behind the nearest guard. The darkness expanded to encompass him, isolating the pair of them from the others. His breathing hitched as he opened his mouth, asking ‘What’s-” 

“Shhhh,” Inej murmured. She held a knife to his throat. She was close enough to feel him trembling. “If you want to live, stay quiet.” The darkness was heavy in a strange sort of way, muffling her voice to keep it from escaping the shadows. She pushed the man to the floor, where he was helplessly stuck with no sense of direction, then continued wading through the darkness. 

Inej wasn’t sure how long to wait for Kaz. She didn’t know if he expected her to incapacitate or kill all the men- he might be planning to question them. Or did he want her to take out all of them now, and he wasn’t planning to show up at all?  It would be so much simpler if he would just tell her the plan! 

She just had to go by her own judgement for now. And she preferred not to kill when possible. Instead, she spread her hands, and let a thick darkness sink in, as if it was mist from the water. Inej had succeeded in concealing her power from common knowledge by taking inspiration from her environment, as she did now. It was better if this was kept a secret. Kaz had never said that explicitly, but he would have no authority to control her like that anyway. It was her choice, and Kaz’s suggestion. Kaz himself didn’t strictly hide or flout his power. People had their suspicions, though, about both of them. Inej was fairly certain that she was the only person Kaz casually used and talked about sun summoning around openly. Maybe she was flattering herself. 

The guards looked around, confused. The darkness was fog-like, not dark enough to completely extinguish their vision, but surely it was disorienting. Inej herself didn’t experience the effect. They stood tensely, waiting for a fight to arrive.

And the fight arrived, with the steady beat of a cane. Kaz, finally. He stood at the border of the darkness. “I see you all waited for me,” he said. 

Rutger cocked his gun, but Inej reached him before he could aim. The darkness gathered to an edge, an extension of her knife, and she Cut his hand. He shrieked as his hand fell to the cobblestones below with a dull thud. He was the one who had spoken so disrespectfully about Sankta Alina. Inej didn’t feel much sympathy for him. 

Another guard drew his gun, and Inej’s blade found his throat. She spun a thread of shadows before the eyes of a third man, temporarily blinding him, and pushed him to the ground. 

It was only a minute before she felt Kaz’s back against her own. He must’ve navigated through the darkness with only a wisp of light- she hadn’t noticed any brightness in the fog. Together, they faced the reality of being vastly outnumbered. Typically, they never fought side by side; Inej rarely had her feet on the ground. There was a rhythm to it, as if they shared a heartbeat. 

Rhythm or not, they were only two people. Even Grisha have to yield to sheer numbers, at least when they’re untrained. Eamon had made his way through the shadows, and his gun was pressed to Kaz’s forehead. 

“Who do you think will be the lieutenant after I kill you?” he asked. “Not your Wraith, of course- she’ll be dead, too. I just want to get the exclusive for Pekka and all that.”  

“Good question.” Kaz’s raspy voice didn’t waver. “I’ll have to think about it, at another time, of course.” 

“Doesn’t matter who it is. Dregs won’t last an hour without you.” Inej had to agree with that. They would be lost without Kaz.

“I’m flattered,” Kaz said drily. Inej desperately searched for clues of what to do next. They were stuck; certainly if she made a move, Eamon would shoot Kaz. Then, Kaz flexed his gloved hand, and as he gestured, there was a quiet click. 

Inej knew what that meant. She quickly tucked her head into her arms. Even behind her hands, there was a flash of brightness. 

“Oh fuck!” she heard Eamon say as Kaz shone a stream of light directly into his eyes. The light reflected off the special Fabrikator-made mirrored gloves, resulting in an intense beam that would probably blind the man for a significant period of time. Uncovering her eyes, Inej witnessed Kaz smoothly liberate Eamon of his bag, which she knew to contain the shipping information. 

There were still men surrounding them. Kaz turned to her. “Let’s go.” They hurried to the edge of the fog. Inej summoned a swath of shadows, wrapping a deep darkness around the guards. They would stagger around until sunrise, at the least. 

Inej followed Kaz into the maze of buildings outside the Harbour. She cloaked them in shadows, in case anyone was tailing them. 

Finally, Kaz turned around to face her. “That was messier than I wanted it to be.” He was bleeding from his forehead, but Inej was certain the blood on his knuckles was not Kaz’s own. 

“It wouldn’t be so messy,” Inej responded, “If you would’ve told me the plan!” Kaz Brekker always had a reason. That much was clear. Inej just never knew what it was. 

Kaz laughed at her exasperation. “You think Kooperom is still open? I could use some waffles after that.”

They got waffles. 

[alarawriting]

52 Project #33: Amaldis

Yikes, I completely forgot to post this! Hard day at work. -------------------------------------------

The prince was young and handsome, as they all were, with the sort of arrogant good looks that wealth and power almost always brought.  It was a tragedy that so many of these young men had to die, the old woman thought.  Such a waste. She stepped out into the road, into the pathway of his horse.

The horse reared up as the prince pulled on the reins.  "Out of my way, old woman!"  he shouted.

"Are you going to the capital?"  the woman asked.  She was over 40, but well-fed, clean and well-dressed.  His eyes flickered over her, as if trying to decide her station.

"Yes.  What business is it of yours?"

"Have you come to join? To swear allegiance to the sorceress Amaldis?"

"No."  The prince's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword as fury darkened his features.  "I've come to kill the witch."

"Are you a fool, young man?"  The woman's eyes blazed, and she stepped up to his horse, glaring up at him.  "Threescore young men, brave and noble, have come to Cythia to kill the sorceress, and all of them have died.  Are you so arrogant and foolish as to believe you'll succeed where so many have failed?"

"I don't fear the witch's sorcery,"  the prince said firmly.  "I have a good sword and a trusty mount.  That's all I need."

"Oh, you are a fool.  A younger son? Expendable? You need to do something impossible, to make a name for yourself?"

"She stole lands that belong to my father!"  he shouted, his face purpling.  "My family's honor is at stake!"

"And so you'll die for your family's honor."

"If I die, at least I'll die in glory."

"Glory?" There was cold fury in the woman's voice.  "Let me tell you what glory is, boy.  Glory is a corpse rotting in a field, the crows plucking its eyes.  Glory is your lover weeping, knowing her man will never come home.  Glory is children bereft of fathers, crops burning, women raped, people enslaved.  I spit on your glory."  And she did, spitting on his boots.

The prince drew his sword, provoked beyond endurance, and swung it to behead the woman.  But she wasn't there.  Startled, he looked about himself, trying to find her.

The ground rumbled. The trees lining the road shed leaves in a storm of colors, and the earth began to shake.  The prince's horse reared up in terror, and tried to run, paying no heed when the prince pulled at the reins.  Then a chasm opened at the horse's feet, and horse and prince tumbled in together, screaming.

The chasm closed, and all was normal again.  Except for hoofprints that led to the midst of a meadow and vanished, it was as if the horse and rider had never been.

***

The scene vanished from the focusing crystal as the woman leaned back.  Her apprentice, Joraine, asked, "Did you have to kill him?"

Amaldis turned.  She was a stout woman of peasant stock, appearing to be a well-cared-for dowager of over 40 or so, with wavy black hair and blazing black eyes.  The fire in those eyes died slightly, to be replaced by sorrow, as she spoke.

"Sometimes it can be avoided,"  she told Joraine, a large-boned woman in her late twenties or early thirties. "But not this time.  You heard him.  I tried to get him to turn back, but no.  He was bound and determined to die gloriously."

"It seems so cruel,"  Joraine said. "All these brave young men, in the prime of their lives..."

"Yes.  It is cruel, and a waste.  But it's them or us.  If they had their way, they would make you a serf; condemn you to backbreaking labor all your life, with only the bare necessities of life in return.  Some would demand the right to rape you on your wedding night, or whenever you took their fancy; others would allow their priests to torture you for refusing to spout their doctrines; still others would conscript your sons to die in their wars."  Amaldis shook her head.  "Sooner or later, a group of these young heroes will come together and raise a truly massive army, perhaps a thousand men or more.  That will be tragic.  Because my powers won't be enough to hold them off entirely; and our people will have to fight and die."

"Why do they keep coming if you keep killing them?"

"You heard the one just now.  Honor and glory are worth more than their lives, and they think we stole their land."

"We did steal their land."

"Who gave them the right to own it?"  Amaldis looked hard at Joraine, and some of the fire came back to her eyes.  "We asked people if they wanted to be ruled by lords, or if they wanted to rule themselves.  They wanted to rule themselves, so we extended the borders of Cythia to their areas and let them.  As far as I'm concerned, the land belongs to the people who work it, not the nobles who get fat off it."

"Yes, but I'm saying, from their point of view we stole it."

"Yes.  And so they'll never leave us alone."  She sighed.  "That's why I want you a master sorceress as soon as possible, Joraine. Our defenses are strong, but they all rest on me, and I'm only one woman.  The most powerful sorceress in the world will still die if someone gets close enough to put a crossbow bolt through her throat."

"We have a militia, Amaldis.  They'd die to defend you, and so would I.  Anybody in Cythia would-- all of us love you."

"But everyone else in the world is trying to kill me."

"Don't talk like that!"  Joraine got up, distressed, and looked down at Amaldis.  "Remember the First Rule? 'When a magician and a swordsman fight, the magician will always win, provided she is smarter.' You're certainly smarter."

"Amend that rule. 'Provided she is smarter and makes no mistakes.' I'm 200 years old, Joraine, and I'm tired of being paranoid. I'm tired of constantly scanning to see if anyone is after me.  But I can never stop, because if I die, Cythia dies with me.  Unless you can protect it."

"I'm only 35," Joraine said quietly. "You've got 8 score more years of power built up in you.  Even when I turn master in a few years, I won't have nearly the power you do." She walked around to Amaldis and put her arms around her mentor's shoulders.  "Is something wrong?"

"Yes..." Amaldis stared into space. "I've had a premonition."

"Of what?"

"I don't know. Something terrible.  I don't know..."

Abruptly, awkwardly, Joraine hugged Amaldis.  "I won't let it,"  she whispered fiercely.  "Nothing's going to happen to you, so long as I have breath in my body to prevent it. You're the only mother I ever had, Amaldis, and I won't let you die."

***

Mor rode through the fields and woods of Cythia, heading steadily for the capital.

He was a big, brawny, barbarian type, proficient in any weapon but best with his broadsword, which was unbelievably large.  He came from a country many, many miles away, where he had successfully killed over a dozen magic-wielders.  He had also been offered the position of heir to the kingdom of Lowellan, if he could kill the sorceress Amaldis.  And he had no doubts about his ability to do so.

All this Amaldis could gather just from watching him through the focusing crystal.  It had been three days since the last prince had come, and she'd dispatched him; three days since she'd told Joraine about her premonition. A chill went down her spine, watching Mor ride.  Something about his aura frightened her terribly.  A dangerous man, moreso than any of the others.  She was tempted to kill him now, without even trying to persuade him to turn back.  But she had vowed she would always give them a chance.

So she focused herself, and appeared as an astral image, as solid as flesh but less real, standing in front of his horse's path.  The horse didn't even slow down.  It kept trotting on as if it would run her down, and Mor made no attempt to stop it.

Hastily she stepped back from its path.  If it went through her, it would do her no harm-- but it would reveal her as an illusion. "Will you stop, Mor, and listen to what I have to say?"  she said.

"There is nothing I need to hear from old women,"  he said.

Well.  That settled it, then.  She had given him a chance, and he had spit in her face.  

Amaldis came back to herself, letting her astral image vanish.  She looked deep into the crystal, focused, and spoke a Word.  It resonated in the air around her.  The resonation through the crystal was even greater.  There, the Word whipped the trees and caused the ground to shake.

Mor's mount stood firm, holding in one place as Mor stroked its head.  When the chasm started to open, the horse bolted as fast as it could go in the opposite direction, which happened to be the direction of the city. The chasm stopped widening before it could catch up to the fleeing beast, the power of the Word spent, and Mor and his animal made all possible speed for the city.

Amaldis threw another chasm in their way.  They leapt it, outran its expansion, and kept going.  She summoned demonic familiars and hobgoblins to waylay them.  Mor slew them all.  She cast illusions, which Mor paid little to no attention to; she summoned elementals, which Mor defeated; and she threw murderous obstacles in his path, which he destroyed, overcame, or bypassed.  Amaldis had never seen anything like it.  The man was at the outskirts of the city already, and still moving.  Nothing magical had done more than slow him, and she was exhausted from rapid spellcasting.

Grieving in her heart, she called for a messenger, and told him to tell the militia about the threat. Good men and women would die at Mor's hands, she knew, and if it were merely her own life at stake, she would gladly die in their place.  But she was founder, governor and defender of Cythia.  Without her, morale would be destroyed, the government would become unstable, and Cythia would be wide open and vulnerable to whatever conqueror wanted to take it.  

In her crystal, she watched as the militia went forth.  Then she began preparing for the possibility that Mor would reach her.  She set up some powerful and terrible binding spells, summoned a few invincible creatures from the lower planes, and set them to guard her door.  Then she sent a messenger to Joraine.

"Tell her I want her to go to the belltower and prepare a Spell of Unbinding of Truths," she told the messenger. "When it's complete, I'll examine it."  This particular spell took several hours to complete, and required its caster's full attention.  Joraine had been telling the truth, 3 days ago-- she would even sacrifice her own life to preserve Amaldis'.  Which would leave Cythia without a sorceress, if both of them were killed.  Joraine had to be tricked into leaving the battlefield before the fight began.

That done, Amaldis turned to watch the battle in her crystal.

The militia were getting decimated.  Amaldis sucked in her breath.  How was this possible? Few of them were very good swordsmen, and Mor was the best of the best, yes.  But still. It was impossible that one man could be doing such damage, and taking so little in return.  One man, and not a magic-user at that.  It wasn't even an enchanted blade he held-- Mor's contempt for magic was legendary.  Without assistance from magic, it was just not conceivable that one man, no matter how skilled, could cut his way through an army, no matter how green.  And yet Mor was doing it.

He had to be getting some sort of secret assistance. Amaldis focused in, looking for an invisible familiar, an enchanted item, something.  There was nothing so obvious.  If he had magical assistance, it was subtle and ran very deep.  Sick at heart, Amaldis forced herself to watch the slaughter of her people.  Here is your noble glory, all you young heroes. Here is what you wanted!

When she felt strong enough, she struck again, after sending a messenger ordering the decimated remains of the militia to retreat.  It looked as if Mor would pursue them, and continue the combat until they were all dead, but he changed his mind when she called a thunderstorm down on him, as if remembering that she was his real opponent.

She rained lightning at him, but somehow, impossibly, he always managed to avoid them, fortuitiously moving at the same split-second she initiated the bolt.  As he headed deeper and deeper into the city, people fled, knowing from the stormcloud that their governor was trying to stop the man, and failing.  Amaldis sent all sorts of creatures at him.  He killed them all, and kept coming.  Even when one of her creatures managed to kill his horse, he leapt off the beast and kept coming.

If he were not in her city, she could swallow him with a chasm now, or put a ring of fire around him-- without his horse, he was more vulnerable.  But this was her place, and she couldn't cause such damage to it. She notified the palace guard that he was coming, hoping desperately that he would be tired from the constant fighting, and easier to take down.  She had given the guard strict instructions that if casualties were too heavy, they were to flee.  But she didn't truly believe they would obey.  

The palace guard met and fought Mor.  He was still impossibly skilled-- his battles seemed to have barely blunted his edge. Again, Amaldis scanned him for magic, and this time she did catch a faint whiff.  Quickly she focused her probe, sweeping him up and down, but at this range it still eluded her.  When he got closer, perhaps she would be able to find it, and negate it; but of course, when he got closer she would have other things to worry about.

She began to scream into the crystal, ordering the guard to retreat, as Mor destroyed them.  She appeared to them astrally, pleading with them to run and save themselves, but they ignored her.  Mor was only a swordsman-- they should be able to take him down.  The fact that they obviously couldn't meant nothing, when it was honor at stake.  Tears burned in her eyes.  How many more good people would die for honor's damnable sake?

Now nearly all her guard were dead.  Amaldis steeled herself.  He was coming this way.  One way or another, even if he kills me, he won't live to enjoy his victory.

Then the door slammed open, and slammed shut behind as Mor strode into Amaldis's chamber.

"Time for you to die, witch,"  he said, advancing on her.

Amaldis released the demon guard.  Invincible and tireless, the two launched themselves at him, battering him.  The air rang with the clash of his sword on their metallic armor.  While he was occupied with that, Amaldis searched him magically-- and finally found what she was looking for.  There was a magical luck charm on him, cast before his birth, woven throughout his entire being.  He had never failed at anything.  And there was no way to remove the charm, not without negating her own power.

At this point, Mor defeated the invincible demons by thrusting his sword's point into their mouths. That shouldn't have killed them. But by now, Amaldis knew that the universe was on Mor's side.  If an improbable occurrence was necessary for his survival, it would happen.  If an impossible occurrence, even, was necessary, it would happen.

How could she defeat someone like that?

She spoke a Word, to activate a binding spell.  He hated magic so much-- if she could make him see that he was using magic, perhaps he could renounce the spell, or perhaps he would leave her alone.  It was not very likely, but the only other alternative was to negate all magic, and that would destroy her power, too.  The spell caught Mor tight, holding him motionless. He struggled against the spell, as Amaldis spoke coldly.  "You have such contempt for magic.  But you yourself are a magic-user, Mor of Savann."

"You lie, witch," he grated out.

"No lie.  How do you think it's possible that one lone man can kill over 50? That you miraculously survived everything I attacked you with? It's impossible.  No one else has gotten even as far as the city, much less the palace, except for you--"

She sensed the bonds shattering before it happened.  Somehow, he had broken her binding spell by flexing his muscles.  That's not possible! Amaldis thought, and then remembered that Mor's luck charm could do the impossible.  She leapt out of the way as he grasped his sword and swung it at her.

Amaldis cried a Word of power, and a bolt of light flashed out from her fingertips-- but he dodged. The laws of reality seemed to be breaking down to accomodate him.  She threw up a magical shield, and his broadsword cut it in half.  That wasn't possible, either.

Amend the rule, she thought, gasping, as she dodged another broadsword swing at her head.  The magician will always win, provided the sword-wielding barbarian doesn't have magic of his own.  It was getting harder to dodge, and there were fewer places to dodge to.  Amaldis truly understood then that no magic could stop him.  Even a sudden death spell would unravel against the luck charm placed on him. There was only one thing that could possibly work, and the notion filled her with horror.

There was a secret spell, jealously guarded by the few magicians who knew it.  It was a last-resort weapon in magical combat, intended to take one's enemy down with one.  The secret spell consisted of a single spoken Word, which could negate all magic within a certain radius.  Mor was certainly within that radius.  Unfortunately, by definition, so was the caster-- which was why it was a weapon of last resort.  Amaldis had built up a great deal of power in 200 years.  If she negated Mor's advantage, she lost all of that power, which might end up dooming Cythia as surely as if she died.  And without her magic, she would be no match for him in combat anyway.

The sword smashed her crystal, scattering pieces everywhere, as she ducked behind it.  Then there was a wall at her back, and nowhere to dodge to. Terror gripped her-- this was it. Only one chance-- and even that was more likely to see her avenged than saved.  But it would be enough to be avenged, if that was all she could have.

She said the Word.

The magic drained out of the air.  Amaldis sagged against the wall, feeling suddenly a thousand years old.  For the first time, she could hear the pounding on the door, and realized it had been going on for some time.  

Mor hesitated.  He had sensed the change, apparently, though doubtless he couldn't understand what it signified.  In that moment of hesitation, Amaldis flung herself to the side, and so when the broadsword came down it pierced through her shoulder, slicing away her arm, not her head.  Amaldis screamed.

The door slammed open behind Mor, and there was a flash of light.  Mor dropped, an expression of disbelief on his face.  With rapidly glazing eyes, Amaldis saw through the pain that Joraine was running toward her.  Then it became too dark to see anymore.

***

Amaldis wakened to the sound of Joraine weeping.  "It can't be too late,"  Joraine was saying.  "Come on, heal, Amaldis, heal! Please!"

Amaldis swallowed, and croaked in a hoarse voice, "I seem not to be dead.  How surprising."

"You're back!" Joraine wiped her eyes and looked at Amaldis.  "I brought you back! Oh thank you, Goddess, thank you, thank you..." She hugged Amaldis and began to weep again, this time for joy.

But as memory filtered back, Amaldis could see little cause to be joyful.  She was alive, yes, and Mor was dead...  but the cost had been her power.  The only defense Cythia had had to keep it from a bloody war, and being overrun and conquered, had been her power.  And now it was gone.

Tears welled in her eyes. After all her hard work, all the energy and enthusiasm her people had expended to make her dream a reality, one man with a magic charm could bring it all crashing down.  What was the point to living, if her dream was dead? In a voice like ash, she said, "Joraine, my powers..."

Joraine lifted her head and looked down at her.  "I know. I know."

"Cythia is finished."  There was no strength, no life in her voice, just ruins and despair.

"No-- there's a way. There has to be a way."

"That's wishful thinking.  " Amaldis changed the subject. "How did you find me? I told you to prepare a Spell of Unbinding..."

"The guard-- what was left of it-- broke in and told me you were fighting with that creature." Joraine's voice had an edge of fury to it.  "I couldn't get the door open, at first--"

"His luck charm. It must have kept the door locked."

"When I got it open and saw he'd cut off your arm-- I almost went berserk.  But it's all right now.  I healed you.  Your arm's fine."

"My arm's irrelevant, Joraine.  My magic is gone.  Without that..."

"No! We can buy time. We can keep going on a bluff for a while.  I won't let your dream die like this!"

"Buy time for what?"  Amaldis wanted to be swept away by Joraine's youthful determination, but 200 years of experience had told her that when something was doomed, it was doomed. There was nothing they could do. "It'll be another hundred years before you're powerful enough to defend Cythia by yourself..."

"Then we can't rely so much on magic.  We need to find other solutions."  Joraine got up off the bed.  "We can buy time, like I said.  And in that time, we can recruit more people.  We can train all our citizens to fight and defend the country if they have to. We can try to recruit another magician. If we could get two or three magicians my age, we could all band together.  Besides.  Once people hear you killed Mor, they won't be eager to try you for some time.  No one needs to know you're injured-- and as long as they send in their heroes one at a time, we can pick them off ourselves, the militia and I.  We can send emissaries to other countries, and see if they have superior weapons or magical techniques we can use.  There are all sorts of things we can try, Amaldis.  You can't give up!"

"I'm old," Amaldis said softly.  "I had a dream once, a revolutionary new idea, when I was young.  But I'm no revolutionary anymore."

"You can't give up--"

"No.  I'm not giving up.  I'm passing the torch to you."  Amaldis forced herself to a sitting position.  The change made her dizzy and she swayed.  Joraine quickly moved to prop pillows behind her. "You're right, of course. I'll continue to govern Cythia and to teach you magic-- I still know the techniques, I simply haven't got the power for them anymore.  But you'll be in charge of devising our defense, Joraine.  You're young and creative enough to see new ways of doing things.  I can't anymore."

"I don't think you're as old and decrepit as you think you are, Amaldis,"  Joraine said.  "Is this because you lost your magic?"

"Yesterday, for all my years, I was a young woman.  Today I feel older than time itself.  It has to be you, Joraine.  I-- lost something vital when I lost my power, I think.  Cythia's future is going to rest on you."

"You should rest," Joraine said, moving the pillows back so Amaldis could lay down.  "Go to sleep.  You'll feel better when you're recovered."

"I doubt it," Amaldis said softly, but allowed Joraine to put her to bed.  The last thing she saw, through slitted eyes near the edge of sleep, was Joraine sitting by her bed.  Her face seemed to Amaldis to look like her own had, when she was only thirty and had grandiose dreams for saving the world.  Yes.  The torch was in capable hands.  

Amaldis slept.