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forestdeath1 · 8 months ago

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Magnum Opus or Great Work: Alchemical Codes in "Harry Potter"

"I've never wanted to be a witch, but an alchemist, now that's a different matter. To invent this wizard world, I've learned a ridiculous amount about alchemy." JKR. By the way, it seems JKR never became an alchemist because you can't be that evil an alchemist, Joanne. Something went wrong.

The first part about Lily and James

Voldemort – an occult alchemist, Lucifer. Snape – a Seeker who chose the wrong Path. Dumbledore – Keeper of the Tower. Hermione – Hermes Trismegistus. Harry, Hermione and Ron – the three principles for creating the Philosopher's Stone.

Alchemy is the universal path of spiritual transformation. In a literal sense, universal, this code is practically everywhere–from ancient myths and the Bible to the philosophy of Nietzsche (though in his understanding) and Jung's books. Harry Potter himself is a complete alchemist's path, but there's also a well-displayed second path–the path of the occult alchemist.

True alchemy tells us that God is in everything, like a seed present in every person. Through alchemical transformation, a person can be reborn – and become golden, divine, immortal.

Many famous people were fascinated by these ideas – from Newton to Goethe, from Walter to Mozart. Yes, Walter and Mozart were freemasons, but freemasonry is built on the Magnum Opus, it's its foundation. Who has seen the opera The Magic Flute? A completely masonic opera: the surface layer was for the people, and the deeper layer – for the spiritual elite of that time. In this opera, the power of love transforms people and makes them divine. Oh, it seems to resemble Harry Potter, hehe... Harry Potter also has two layers – one as a fairytale about a wizard for teenagers, the other – for those who can "feel" the symbols, even without knowing them.

Each symbol can be interpreted in several ways, that's the complexity of alchemical symbolism. For example, Albus Dumbledore. He symbolizes (in JKR's own words) Spirit ( he's white), and Rubeus Hagrid – Soul (red) – and they're both like two fatherly figures for Harry, distant and warm, judicious and understanding. But all this is at the character level. Dumbledore has other meanings – much more important ones. As I've said before, the symbolic level and the character level are different levels. In interpreting symbols, you don't need to interpret every line, you need to take the context as a whole. Characters operate on one level, symbols – on another.

So, alchemy is an extension of the universal idea – to be reborn, you need to "die." Like Jesus died on the cross, Orpheus on the banks of the River Gebre, and Osiris in the coffin prepared by Typhon, in alchemy, until all the elements (parts of the old personality) die, the work cannot be completed.

The stages of this alchemical process can be traced in the lives of almost all world "heroes" and in the mythology and legends of many cultures. This is a universal code.

“Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again” John 3:3

Alchemy proclaims that without decomposition, the Great Work cannot be accomplished.

The past Self dies on the cross and in the retorts and becomes black during decomposition. The new Self rises from hell, like a phoenix. The phoenix is a pure alchemical symbol.

This is the creation of the Philosopher's Stone.

It is symbolically described in "The Chymical Wedding of Christian Rosenkreutz". The book presents an allegorical story divided into "Seven Days" or "Seven Journeys," which tells how its author, Christian Rosenkreutz, was invited to a castle full of wonders to help with the "Chymical Wedding" of the king and queen. Harry also receives a letter in a storm (like Rosenkreutz) and goes to the castle for 7 years, chooses one of the four paths (Gryffindor), and so on.

Alchemists called the creation of the Philosopher's Stone the Great Work – Opus Magnum. This process consisted of three stages: decomposition (nigredo), rebirth (albedo), and final perfection (rubedo). Each of these stages corresponded to a specific colour: black, white and red.

Nigredo. Albedo. Rubedo.

In Harry Potter, these stages correspond to Sirius Black, Albus (white) Dumbledore, and Rubeus (red) Hagrid. The end of each stage is marked by their death. In the seventh book, it's Hagrid who carries the "dead" Harry.

There is a fundamental difference between "true alchemists" and "occult alchemist."

Tom Riddle is an occult alchemist. For him, the Great Work is also self-creation, but what kind? For him, it is complete mastery of his abilities and his future, and especially the complete liberation of his will.

Tom is a will, but his will not submissive to the will of God. It's a Luciferian will. The will of a fallen angel who began to oppose his own free will to the influence of Divine Love-Light. Instead, he sought and loved his own power outside Divinity, in himself.

"Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven" John Milton, "Paradise Lost"

Baphomet, or the Sabbatic Goat, drawing by Eliphas Levi, on its hands are inscriptions "Solve et Coagula." This is an alchemical principle. JKR, by the way, also has such a tattoo.

In occultism, it is believed that magic is control of one's will, and a will can control matter. After all, what did his followers choose for their motto? Magic is Might. Harry never defeated Voldemort with such magic. Because he doesn't need it.

What does Tom boast about? Tom boasts that he has mastered the deepest depths of dark magic. He went so far in it as no one before. Dark magic requires an iron will, and Tom achieved incredible heights in it. He even achieved immortality in this material universe, literally cursing his soul! Only Tom doesn't understand that Dumbledore (a true alchemist) is not interested in all this. Because true immortality is not there. True transformation is not there. Because their paths are completely different – Dumbledore is going to the "God and divine immortality," and Tom is going to "material immortality."

In general, fans of occult alchemy, the Left-Hand Path, and Nietzschean philosophy probably consider Tom a much more interesting character because here he is – the king of matter, a man of incredible will and strength who destroys the slave Christian morality and proclaims that God is dead, long live the Übermensch (homo superior)! (Nietzsche would have been proud of him…) By the way, Bellatrix is most likely symbolically – Lilith, Adam's first wife according to Kabbalistic apocrypha, who rebelled against Adam. God created them equal, and Adam wanted to have power over Lilith... In short, Lilith is the first feminist in human history, hehe.

The Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabanel. Lilith.

In short, Tom Riddle is such an adept of broken alchemy. Where Tom is his own personal will, Harry is Faith and the will of the Spirit. Harry is also very strong-willed, but his will is different, it's not individualistic. It's a will of sacrifice, a will of love, a will of mercy, a will of trust. The main theme of the seventh book is a crisis of faith. And what kind of will does one need to show to continue the quest for Horcruxes and not go for the Deathly Hallows? Simply put, the will of Harry and Tom is completely different.

And Tom will never understand this. He's an individualist. He's a Nietzschean Übermensch. He's reached the limits of human capabilities. But for what? From dust you are and to dust you shall return, Tom...

Severus Snape — a Seaker who chose the wrong Path

And Snape, by the way, initially turns away from Lily (Lily is love of God, represented in the world). Because he's obsessed with becoming dark magic, his ego and desire for secret knowledge and being proud are very great.

Btw, Lily is a mudblood. In the sense that God is not in shining beautiful armor. This is Lucifer's mask – to be pure, to shine, to sparkle. But the real God can be found by seeking, under the feet of the poorest and "dirtiest" person. After all, for God, everyone is equal. It's the Devil who divides.

And pure-bloods, for example, the Blacks, are "false purity." Luciferian purity. Material purity, purity of shining gold. It's division. And where there's division – there's the Devil.

In short, Snape turns away from Lily because this path is difficult, he doesn't understand how to approach her, he already uses dark magic, has a lot of knowledge, and delves into various secrets, and shows what "bad" paths other seekers (the Marauders) take... (The seeker is not my term, it's from the Rosicrucian manifesto, alchemists call themselves seekers) But Lily still refuses to unite Spirit and Soul. And he calls her a "mudblood," insulting her. For Lily, this is a sign that this soul is almost lost. And there's no sincere regret in him when he asks for forgiveness. He asks her to forgive him, but his soul is still on the old Path. Lily isn't angry with him, it's not about anger or offense. Snape's soul is almost lost at this moment, closed to the divine spark and love. After all, for love to enter your heart, you first need to open yourself to it.

Only when Snape sees true face of Tom's "alchemy," in which Tom is ready to kill Love, the divine spark, essentially kill God in the souls of all people, then Snape, as a real Seeker, realizes that he's going the wrong way... And he runs to the main Alchemist, Dumbledore, to ask to preserve this love, this manifestation of God on earth.

But you can't preserve it without preserving the seeker of the right Path in your soul (James) and without preserving the possibility of the emergence of the transformed soul (Harry).

This is a very important moment, not only because you can't kill people in principle. Dumbledore literally tells him that you can't save love of God, the divine spark in your soul, if you kill in yourself the one who reaches out to God (the deer) and if you kill the POSSIBILITY of becoming this new transformed soul (Harry).

For Snape, this becomes a turning point, and he decides to switch sides to true alchemy. Dumbledore asks in return for Snape's soul, but not in the sense that the Devil demands it, he asks for loyalty to the Path. Below I'll explain the symbolism of Dumbledore and what he means in terms of alchemical symbolism (I don’t think he is God).

Snape becomes loyal to Dumbledore. But Lily is killed, as is James. The world, despite the fact that Voldemort temporarily goes into hibernation (and the Savior is alive), plunges into despair. Sirius (as a divine symbol of light) is in captivity, Remus (a symbol of a seeker with a "good but not brave" soul) is somewhere wandering the world, and Harry lives very poorly with the Dursleys... Harry doesn't know any God, and the seeker in him is also "dead". And Voldemort will soon rise again, he's just gathering strength.

Harry's path is the path of returning to God through Mother of God (Theotokos). Because it is Mother of God who is the true Spirit. That's why he meets Lily only at the end of the seventh book, when he's almost completed the alchemical transformation. For Christians, this is heresy, but for alchemists, it's not. The Son and Mother of God are one whole. The Virgin Mary is part of the Trinity, because only through the spiritual unity of the Mother and the Son is the salvation of humanity possible.

And who does he meet her through? Through Snape. Who dedicated his entire life to transforming his Soul, merging it with the Spirit, ultimately coming to God.

He spent his whole life hating James, as a Seeker of a different kind, not like him—Snape always leaned a bit towards Nietzschean stories. And James always hated Dark Magic and all dark things (although this doesn't make the souls of this type much better, they can also be egocentric). Snape teaches Potions, he knows how to bottle up Love, Death and Luck... So much power, so much pride in this...

Recently, I reposted a very interesting post. Snape wanted to recover his soul, because he was guilty of Lily's death. A very beautiful meta, but I see a bit different alchemical meaning. His soul is broken not only because Lily partly died because of him. His soul is broken overall because of the Path he chose - that of an occult alchemist, and he remains a "spy" to the end of his days, playing two roles, constantly "here and there". He dies at the hands of his former master.

Snape takes Lily's letter because he needs Lily's love (like people wear crosses), while there isn't enough understanding of where to go (Dumbledore is already dead)

Snape always yearned for Lily. And Dumbledore asks for us, the readers: "After all this time?" And Snape answers for us "Always." You must love God always. And that is salvation for the soul.

In general, Snape only understands towards the end that you cannot love Lily without Harry and even James. Only one Path leads to Lily - the same as James’s path. The path of Ego, pride, thirst for power, secret knowledge, occultism, malice, hatred must finally dissolve. Snape fully exposes himself to Harry, although he shouldn't have (he should only pass on information about death), revealing the good (and the bad) that he always hid. His revelation to him speaks of his complete acceptance. He shows him his soul, literally bowing his head to him - here I am, here is my soul, in some things I have no excuse, sometimes I have justification, but I've been seeking God, seeking love all my life.

Will you accept my wounded soul?

This is confession. The realest confession.

And Harry accepts. Of course, Harry accepts. He looks at him with Lily's eyes.

Because no matter how "bad" you are, if you truly love God in your soul, if you truly seek Him, there will always be a place for you in the City of God. Snape is the constantly replayed plot of the Prodigal Son's return.

At this moment, all the "black" in Snape dies – the nigredo. Tears - the white stage, purification – the albedo stage, purification. Blood – naturally, the red stage. The alchemical transformation for Snape is complete.

(But geniuses from TikTok will still say that Harry shouldn't have named his son Albus Severus, because Snape was baaaad. Ofc he was bad sometimes, that's the point!)

Dumbledore is the embodied Path and Plan

As I mentioned before, Dumbledore asks for Snape's soul in return, but not in the sense that the Devil demands it, he asks for loyalty to the alchemical Path.

Dumbledore, as an alchemist, besides embodying the completion of the albedo stage for Harry with his death, is also the embodied Path. Dumbledore is the highest Guardian of the Tower, who watches over the Paths of others, he is the Man of Spirit, he is the Principle, he is the Master. What is the difference between Dumbledore and Lily? Lily is a more important symbol, she is like pure divine power, God = love, as in what all souls dissolve. Dumbledore, on the other hand, is the Guardian of the Path through which everyone must pass. In short, Lily is the answer to the question "where", and Dumbledore is the "how". And Dumbledore is just a man who also underwent his alchemical transformation and who can also succumb to temptation. But Dumbledore is not GOD, imo. To personify God in a book is too much (even for me, although I’m not religious at all). I don’t like the idea of him being God and... really, where? God is transcendent and pure divine love emanates from Lily that’s why she almost an empty canvas. Dumbledore is a principle. He is the answer to the question "HOW". That's why he asks to believe in him, believe in the ALCHEMICAL PATH AND PLAN. FOLLOW THIS PLAN TO THE END. Ascend the tower, as I once ascended it. After all, he lives up there in the tower. He observes.

For Snape, Dumbledore is so important because Dumbledore is the Path, a new Path that he did not have. And Dumbledore's death is so important for everyone because now no one points them towards the Path. But they must find this Path within themselves. Because the answers are inside them. You cannot become a true Alchemist if you constantly rely on external help. It's time to see the Path independently.

"You must kill me."

There was a long silence, broken only by an odd clicking noise. Fawkes the phoenix was gnawing a bit of cuttlebone. (HP and DH)

After Dumbledore says that Snape must kill him, there is silence and a very clear symbol - the phoenix and the bone. It's time for their souls to go independently, to eat away all the old to come to rebirth. Meanwhile, they also need to save Draco, who, by "Lucifer's" order, is about to kill the Path (although you can't outplay God's plan...). And then Dumbledore reveals that Harry must die.

This shocks Snape. Like any alchemist on the Path. How so, to die? After all, we all do everything to become closer to God, to immortality, and you say – just die? What kind of Path is this?

"I thought…all these years…that we were protecting him for her. For Lily.”

After all, we were protecting Harry for Lily, because as I've already said, only through the spiritual unity of the Mother and the Son is the salvation of humanity possible. Snape is protecting the son for the mother, and Dumbledore wants to kill him? For what?

Simply put, Snape doesn't understand that no one can save Harry until he dies and is reborn. It's painful, but all heroes go through this path for rebirth.

Dumbledore knows that there is a "seed" of "evil" in Harry, as in any of us. After the fall, we all carry Luciferian part within us. This is the last thing that must die in Harry, and he himself must die for it.

No one promised that the path of the alchemist would be easy. It's understandable why not everyone loves Dumbledore, he seems too cold and manipulative, but there is no other way for Harry on the symbolic level.

The Great Work

There are three stages of the Great Work: decomposition (nigredo), purification (albedo) and ultimate perfection (rubedo). These stages for Harry culminate in the deaths of Sirius Black, Albus Dumbledore, and his own death, where he is carried out of the forest by Rubeus Hagrid.

And the result of his alchemical work should be Rebis — essentially the alchemical philosopher's stone, an androgynous being. In the collection of dialogues attributed to Hermes Trismegistus, God is depicted as androgynous. (Hermes Trismegistus is essentially the one who created the corpus of Hermetic texts).

Rebis is the unity of opposites. Day and night, Man and Woman, Good and Evil, Light and Darkness. All is one. There is no division. The wholeness of God. After the fall, we are all divided. And after the alchemical transformation, we can finally become whole and find ourselves and God.

In the form of merged men and women, sometimes depicted as the Virgin Mary and Christ, because They are one whole. As I have already said, for many alchemists, the Virgin Mary is part of the Trinity because only through the spiritual unity of the Mother and the Son was the redemption of original sin made possible. As I have already said, although Harry suffers more for James (his father turned out not to be as ideal as he thought), Lily is the main symbol in "Harry Potter".

The Nigredo stage literally means "blackness" - it signifies complete breakdown, decay, descent into the underworld, the trance of grief. It's a descent into the deepest fears, disbelief, denial, loss of self, anger, aggression. And through this - a return to the prima materia. This is what happens to Harry, "The Order of the Phoenix" is a very dark and depressing book, and with Sirius's death, this stage for Harry is completed. Sirius himself also undergoes transformations, but about this in the next part. The nigredo stage, during which a person's ego dissolves, is agonizing but necessary for further development. After the "I" meets its "shadow" and disintegrates into parts, it will need to be purified and recreated.

Albedo ("whiteness") symbolizes purification, transition to another world, change of life priorities, awakening, enlightenment. In alchemy, the transition from nigredo to albedo is achieved through the process of washing. The whole sixth book is misty, "white", "wet". "Washing" (albutio, baptisma) directly leads to whiteness (albedo). Purification. It's also silver, a lunar state. In Harry Potter, there is a character named Luna, which means moon in Latin. In different parts of the books, Luna also symbolizes this stage. With Dumbledore's death this stage for Harry completed.

Rubedo ("redness") - the final stage of the alchemical Great Work. The alchemist must establish a kind of sacrificial relationship with his inner essence. At the final stage, the so-called "alchemical marriage" takes place: the marriage of the Red King and the White Queen - Soul and Spirit. Harry (soul) and Lily (spirit) are united. With Hagrid carrying Harry this stage for Harry completed.

Bu the way, the Golden Snitch is an alchemical symbol also.

Firstly, Harry's position is called the Seeker. Alchemists also called themselves that. Secondly, the winged disc is a very ancient symbol, meaning the sun (God) and immortality.

The Snitch reveals to him the Resurrection Stone, and Harry "encounters" his main symbols, but the main one is Lily. It is her he asks not to leave him.

Harry's death here is read by everyone as the well-known plot of Christ's crucifixion. The path to this death is also a reference to the agony of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane before the Crucifixion. After all, Harry also wanted to end up somewhere, but Hogwarts is his home, and he accepts his fate.

My Father! all things are possible for Thee: take this cup of suffering away from me: and yet not what I desire, but what Thou desirest. Mark 14:36

He wanted to be stopped, to be dragged back, to be sent back home... But he was home.

Lily's Eyes

To be honest, I can assume that her green eyes was chosen at random. But what if they weren't? Her green eyes may seem illogical, as this is the colour of the snake, the colour of Slytherin, the colour of evil. But this is the occult Luciferian snake, the erroneous snake. Originally, green also dates back to Hermes Trismegistus – the god who gave the knowledge of alchemy. The most famous of the old hermetic-alchemical texts is inscribed on the "Emerald Tablet". According to legend, this document was left by Hermes Trismegistus on a plate of emerald in an Egyptian temple.

"The Emerald Tablet" is very important for alchemists." According to legend, a large emerald fell to the earth from Lucifer's head when he was cast out of heaven. From the same emerald that fell from the crown of the fallen Lucifer, angels made the Holy Grail (which is also the philosopher's stone, and the Snitch...). Emerald is a sacred green stone, and the heavenly divine world - the homeland of the emerald - a precious stone in which information about the heavenly homeland is encoded.

There is also the Ouroboros - a snake that devours its own tail - a symbol of infinity and immortality.

And the Snitch, which is a reflection of Hermes Trismegistus' staff (which has two battling snakes - two opposites, Spirit and Soul, Good and Evil and so on, and Hermes establishes unity between them with his staff).

Occultists, of course, interpret these symbols in their own way.

Hermione is Hermes Trismegistus. Mercury. Ron — Sulphur. Harry— Salt.

Hermione (Ἑρμιόνη [hermi. ónɛː]) is a feminine given name derived from the Greek messenger god Hermes. As I said, Hermes Trismegistus is the main figure of Hermetic teaching, he is also the one who predicted the coming of the Savior (traditional Christianity should not be confused with Gnostic teachings, the Church has always been against Gnosticism). In addition, Hermes is Mercury, and that is knowledge. Hermes Trismegistus shares "secret knowledge" with the world, which forms the basis of many Gnostic directions - from alchemy to Kabbalah.

Hermione is a little alchemist, she shares knowledge. It is Hermione who insists on complete trust in Dumbledore, it is Hermione who often leads Harry in the right direction when Dumbledore is not around. It is through Dumbledore and Hermione that "moral lessons" are often sounded, which often seem completely out of place. Like when Dumbledore says that James would forgive Peter. At that moment, I always want to say, "Are you out of your mind?!" although I understand that it is described on a symbolic, not personal level.

Mercury (Hermione), Sulphur (Ron), and Salt (Harry) were necessary in the alchemical transformation and were the main components. To create the philosopher's stone, all three elements had to be combined, and Harry is next to them throughout all the books.

Both Hermione and Ron are equally important in Harry's development.

Mercury is the more fluid primary principle, more rational, the feminine principle, while Sulphur is dynamic, expansive, unstable, acidic, unifying, masculine, paternal, and fiery principle. Sulphur is emotional, it is desire and passionate impulse that motivates life. Sulphur is desire. And according to Jung's reflections, it can also be foul and dangerous. Complete transmutation depends on the correct application of this variable principle. Sulphur must be of quality for transmutation to occur. And Ron achieves this quality.

Also, in mystical alchemy, Sulphur is crystallized inspiration of Mercury (Mercury).

Mercury and Sulphur are simultaneously antagonists, like the male and female elements, but at the same time Sulphur is crystallized Mercury.

So I have always been and will always be for Romione! Hehe. They were made for each other!

And as for Salt - that's Harry. It's the body. Sometimes it is called earth and body, salt is the essential body (corpus).

Alchemists say that salt was the first substance created by fire, emanating from God. In salt, all creation is concentrated, in salt the beginning and the end of all things.

Salt is associated with the ultimate elevation of matter - with matter that has acquired consciousness, achieved through the unity of opposites, including the unity of fire and water, the unity of what is above and what is below. Salt is the ultimate Philosopher's Stone, representing transcendence and ultimate knowledge.

Thus, salt symbolizes consciousness (thoughts, feelings, material, etc.), which must be elevated through alchemical processes of dissolution and recrystallization. Well, that's Harry himself.

Just love this stupid moment

Well, that's it, I think I've said everything, and from the next part, we can move on to the Marauders themselves :D

#i'm wondering if anyone but me is even interested in this at all #harry potter meta #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #pro ron weasley #rubeus hagrid #pro severus snape #pro albus dumbledore #pro romione #hp meta #severus snape meta #lily evans #tom riddle #voldemort #tom riddle meta #bellatrix lestrange

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apr1lias · 6 months ago

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During the last race weekend, I posted about making a stats post about three particular riders if it received a certain benchmark (one like). Since we reached that marker with ease, and I have nothing better to do with my time, I am presenting you the findings of this research.

The Context: Jack Miller’s "princess" rant was post-race at the Sachsenring on 18th June 2023, so it’s almost been a full year since then. In this rant he targeted Fabio Quartararo and Marc Marquez who were complaining about their Yamaha and Honda bikes not working last year and told them to shut the fuck up and stop complaining, a quote that seems to have aged poorly when looking at their results.

So let's see if this is the case...

Qualifying results:

(Also for reference, each of these will show 2023 and 2024 results separately because there will ofc be a spike for a certain someone who went from a Honda to a Ducati lmao)

For 2023, Miller did the best out of the three in terms of his average qualifying position, narrowly ahead of Marquez, and he also had the highest qualifying position of them all (his P2 at Silverstone in wet conditions).

Quartararo did the best in his inter-team battle with Franco Morbidelli last season, being the top Yamaha in nearly 85% of the races. Marquez was the top Honda in 9 out of the 13 races (with Joan Mir x3 and Taka Nakagami being the two riders to beat Marc to top Honda in qualifying last year).

However, when it comes to the three of them, it was Marquez that was able to qualify the highest on the grid, with him beating Quartararo and Miller in 6 out of the 13 races post-Sachsenring in 2023. Jack was top 4 times, with Fabio taking the remaining three (as you can hopefully see by the colour-coordinated gold, silver and bronze).

For 2024, it's clear to see that Marc has been the best out of these guys, with the highest average position, as well as being the only one out of the three to take pole position which he earned in Jerez. However, he has only been the top Ducati twice, in Jerez and COTA, but as well all know he has a year old bike to contend with the Pramacs and factory Ducati riders.

The rest of the data shows that both KTM and Yamaha have gotten worse, with Fabio and Yamaha failing to qualify in the top 5 so far this season, but despite this, he still leads the head-to-head against his teammate. Jack, on the other hand, has a respectable qualifying average so far in 2024, but has only been the top KTM once (in Portimao).

So far this year, Marc has been the best of the three 4 times, with Jack taking two and Fabio taking his one win over the three in Le Mans.

Sprint race results:

For 2023, none of the three riders had particularly good sprint record, with the highest average finisher (Miller) not having a good enough average to even score points.

Marc earned the most points in the sprint races last year with 23, though he only finished in the points three times. Fabio scored the lowest number of points and had the lowest average position, however he was still able to earn a podium.

Marc and Fabio share the exact same record in sprints when it comes to beating their teammates, with the two of them being the top Honda/Yamaha over 50% of the time.

In the 2023 H2H, Marc was the best of the three across the 12 weekends (due to no sprint in Phillip Island), winning 5 of these battles; Miller took four sprint weekends and Fabio took 3.

Marquez clearly has the better record in sprints this year, with his average position of third leaving him on the podium. Fabio's average has improved since last year but he has only finished in the points once, and Miller's has also improved - with his average position ninth and meaning he would more often than not be in the points.

Marc, Jack and Fabio all currently have the better record against their teammates in the sprint races in 2024. Marc has a 100% record against his brother Alex, while Fabio has beaten Alex Rins in six of the seven sprints so far this year (which could've been 7/7 if he had completed the Mugello sprint). Jack has beaten Brad in 5 races out of the seven, however is still struggling when it comes to beating the rookie Pedro Acosta, as he has only been the top KTM bike once.

In the H2H between the three of them, Marquez takes it on the sprints winning 6/7 races. Fabio takes the other with his fifth place in Jerez.

Race results:

In the main races in 2023, it was Fabio who led the statistics between the three riders. Despite having the worst average qualifying, he won six of the 13 weekends against Marc and Jack. Marc took 4 while Jack took 2; although Assen is colour coded here, they all DNFd so it doesn't count, and it is coded in order of race completion (so because Fabio DNfed the latest he's gold if this makes sense).

Marc and Fabio once again had the better of their teammates in 2023, while Miller was only able to beat Binder in 23% of the races. This is even more damning for Miller when comparing the teammates' 2023 averages - with Binder averaging a finishing position of 4.8, while Miller's was 10.6. This is compared to Marquez vs Mir (9 vs 10.75 in Marquez's favour) and Quartararo vs Morbidelli (8.42 vs 12.23 in Quartararo's favour) where the battles are closer, and the riders are winning their team and factory head-to-heads despite being considered to have a worse bike than the KTM.

In 2024, it's clear that Marquez has the better race statistics, with three podiums and an average position of 5th. However, he has not finished as the top Ducati in any race so far this year, but he does have the better record against his teammate.

Quartararo and Miller have similar records with their average finishes this year, however Quartararo is the more consistent rider with more points and more races completed. He is also currently winning his head to head against teammate Alex Rins by finishing ahead in 57% of the races in 2024.

In terms of KTM, it has been a disaster year for Miller, who is yet to finish ahead of his teammate in any race this year and, consequently, has not finished as the top KTM. His average is significantly less than that of both Binder (6.71) and Acosta, the rider that will replace him next year, who has an average race position of 7th.

From this, Marquez has won the 2024 comparison in 6 of the 7 races, with Quartararo taking the remaining one.

In summary: Although he has done well in qualifying and sprints since these comments, Jack Miller has been outperformed by both Fabio Quartararo and Marc Marquez on inferior machinery (for Marc's stats from 2023). Marc has of course had the better of 2024 after switching to Ducati, but also has won out against the other two in qualifying and sprint races while on a Honda for 2023. Fabio does well in the races despite his relatively low qualifying positions, but is limited from achieving top 5s due to the Yamaha's capabilities. Jack does well in qualifying and sprints, but when it comes to the main events on Sundays, he lacks a bit in comparison to his rivals.

From what this data is showing, it seems as if Marc has comprehensively beaten Jack Miller despite his complaints about Honda in 2023, and Fabio has also narrowly done it due to his race pace. In short: those comments aged not-very-well to say the least.

If there's anything anyone wants to know or ask about then my asks are always open but I kinda had fun doing this!

#this was kinda fun actually #also if u read all the text then well done guys because i zoned tf out towards the end #i am stunned at miller not beating binder once in races this year though #but u guys wanted it and i hope i delivered #also u cant call me biased i did not look through motogp.com for 4 hours for accurate info for this #motogp

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dcficrecs · 4 months ago

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I'm a Good Pretender

By on shipNslash on AO3

I just finished the first chapter of this, so my apologies if the rest of the fic isn't as good, but the last line of the first chapter was actually so genius I had to share. Minor spoilers for how Dick finds out Bruce is Batman, I guess. Although everyone knows that he does find out eventually, so the only spoiler is how. In this scene, Batman is interrogating Tony Zucco's old cellmate. He refuses to talk and Batman just knocks him out.

The whimpering tapers off until it's just blubbering and then nothing but unconscious breathing. Batman drops him with a sigh, stopping only to zip tie his hands to his apartment radiator.

What a waste of his time-

Creak.

Batman freezes, melting into the shadows out of instinct more than any sort of training. He peeks around the corner, ready for- for…

For anything but that.

Crawling in through the seventh story apartment window is a young Richard Grayson, dark jeans and black hoodie the only thing separating him from the glittering Gotham backdrop of flickering street lamps and red and blue sirens. He pads across the creaky floor on silent feet and stops only when he sees the unconscious resident.

The boy mutters something in an unfamiliar language but it's clearly a swear.

Bruce, never one to waste a dramatic entrance, steps forward a foot. "It's a little late to be out of bed, Richard Grayson," he whispers, voice still as loud as a gunshot in the silence.

"Câcat!" To his credit, when the kid jumps three feet in the air, he lands without a sound. Even more impressively, he doesn't have any other reaction besides for dropping a hand almost imperceptibly into his pocket- a weapon? "Holy fuck. You're Batman."

He cocks his head to the side, trying to get a clearer shot with his contacts. "Yes. How’d you scale seven flights of an exposed building?”

"I’m good at climbing,” the boy says dismissively. “You know my name. Why?" Chin tilted back, eyes a bright splash of anger in the dark- Richard is more confident in this moment than Bruce Wayne has ever been in his entire life.

Instead of answering, Batman nudges the man between them with his boot. "I know it's not a coincidence that you're here. What was your plan?" He's burning with curiosity.

"I- I was going to make him tell me where Tony Zucco is. I know he killed my parents and the last person he associated with was this piece of shit." Richard sounds angry. Fascinating. "What'd you do? He’s not dead, is he?"

"I don't kill people, Richard."

"Stop saying my fucking name unless you tell me how you know it."

Bold.

"Your face has been in the news a lot lately. I've been trying to solve your case."

The kid seems to crumple. "...why? The police obviously don't give a shit."

"That's not true. It's not exactly police procedure to discuss the details of a double homicide with the couple’s orphaned eleven year old." Bruce almost winces -that wasn't good socializing- but Batman doesn't care about those types of things so, for now, neither does Bruce.

Richard doesn't seem to care either. "First I'm going to catch him and then I'm going to kill him. And if you think anything is going to stop me, you're not as smart as they say," he spits out.

Bruce almost laughs, if only in disbelief. Who is this kid?

Instead, he pages Gordon with the address. There's usually an officer patrolling this block. "Listen, kid-"

"Dick."

"Excuse me?"

"My name." God, Bruce feels like he's looking in a mirror. For all that the boy doesn't look anything like an eleven year old Bruce Wayne, that burning rage is achingly familiar. "Nobody in this stupid fucking city might care about me, but I have a name and it's not Richard," he spits like a swear. "It's Dick. Dick Grayson."

Okay, now you know how he met Batman. Here's how he met Bruce (The second time, anyway. The first is at the circus, after his parents' murders). And for context, Miss Lopez is Dick's social worker. More context is that Alfred met with Dick at the orphanage and said that Bruce offered to buy Dick's parents' trailer and all their belongings and give it to Dick whenever he was ready.

Carefully pulling on a more refined accent (Mama loves southern France, she thinks their dialect is ‘fancy’), he jerks to his feet and gasps. “Mister Pennyworth! You came!”

“I told you I would,” the old man says simply, pushing the door all the way open.

And behind him stands-

“Do you remember Mister Wayne, Richard?”

Dick almost collapses under the weight of-

Strong arms, wrestling him to the ground. “Don’t look. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Just don’t look.”

So, yeah, maybe he’s off his game a little, but the first thing that pops out of Dick’s mouth is, “you don’t look like a billionaire.”

Mister Pennyworth laughs in a distinctly British way while said billionaire makes a face that Dick would hazard to describe as a pout. “It’s early,” he mumbles, shoving his pale hands into the pouch of his hoodie.

Aw hell, Dick thinks and suddenly feels guilty. Even though he really shouldn't because it’s true. He’s dressed like a homeless person, layers of old clothes and mismatched aesthetics, and he even has a ratty backpack over his shoulders. Shouldn’t a billionaire have someone to carry his stuff for him?

They’re saved from the awkwardness by Miss Lopez, who sweeps into the room in her usual chaotic way, her stupidly big bag overflowing with all the stuff she never seems to need.

She doesn’t even acknowledge the two men already in the room. “Really, Richard? Again?” She asks, sounding so tired.

“I’m sorry,” Dick whimpers. (He’s not). “I won’t do it again, Miss Lopez, I swear!” (He will.)

He watches her deflate. “Oh, Richard. What am I supposed to do now?”

“Can’t I just go back to-”

“Please don’t bring up the circus again-”

“But it’s where I belong-”

Mister Wayne interrupts, his voice painfully quiet. (Mama says enunciation makes the difference between talking and speaking.) “I'll take him.”

…what?

Dick and Miss Lopez both freeze. She just now seems to realize that they’re not alone and Dick can pinpoint the exact moment she recognizes who’s standing in front of her.

“Oh my god. You’re- Oh my god. Hello, Mister Wayne!” She gushes, the hand not holding up her stupidly big bag reaching up to swipe at her hair.

Mister Wayne doesn’t exactly look like the type of person to judge someone for a bad hair day but even Dick feels the urge to fidget under the weirdly intense stare. He knows better, though, and keeps himself perfectly still while Miss Lopez and Mister Pennyworth start talking about things like state certified foster homes and mandatory wait periods and generous donations.

He follows along with that side of the conversation with perfect ease. People with enough money can do whatever they want and Mister Wayne has ‘more money than God’ according to the cop who brought him in. The only thing he doesn’t understand is…

“Why?” He asks when there’s a lull in the conversation.

Intense eyes lock onto him. “Hm?”

“Why are you offering to help me?” Dick asks. He knows he’s blowing his act. The optimistic orphan would never look a gift horse in the mouth. But he just doesn’t get it. “You don’t even know me.”

Mister Wayne shifts so that he’s facing Dick head on instead of Miss Lopez and Mister Pennyworth, who are looking over a thick legal document. “You don’t have to. I’ll still help in any way I can. If you'd rather try a different foster home, I'll pay for a lawyer,” he murmurs and Dick gets the impression that this is more talking than Mister Wayne has done in a long time.

To be fair, he seems harmless. Dick doubts he’s a pervert or something. There are plenty of less famous orphans he could have snatched up if all he wants is to cop a feel. And he definitely isn’t a good actor, so this has to be at least a little genuine.

When Dick doesn’t answer, Mister Wayne sighs and crouches so that they’re almost eye level. He’s very tall and Dick is very not tall, okay? And he doesn’t say any stupid shit either, like ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ or ‘how are you doing?’ that everyone else seems so insistent on. Instead, he pulls an envelope out of his backpack and offers it to Dick wordlessly..

“Um. Thanks.” Dick takes it, checking to make sure that Miss Lopez isn’t watching before opening it-

Holy fucking shit.

Mama and Papa’s faces smile back at him, a chubby cheeked Dick balancing on their shoulders in front of the Eiffel Tower.

This time, the tears in his eyes are real. “Mister Wayne…”

“I want to help, Dick,” he whispers.

There’s a long list of thoughts running through Dick’s head right now.

He’d somehow forgotten that Mister Wayne has his parent’s trailer. He wants to kiss the picture of his family, safely sealed inside of a little plastic bag. He knows that he’s going to juvie. He knows that Mister Wayne is his best chance at getting out of juvie. He knows it’ll be way easier to sneak out of some big mansion than it will be to break out of a detention center. He knows that Tony Zucco is still alive and roaming free.

But all he can think about is the fact that he’s only told one person in this god forsaken city his real name and it was Batman. So why did Bruce fucking Wayne just call him Dick?

Literally holy shit. I love obscure details that the reader can miss, sometimes is supposed to miss, becoming important later on. I sure as hell missed it.

This fic is good so far, but one thing I know I don't like is the tags saying that Dick's parents were slightly abusive. That's just too out of character for them for me. But I am really into any 'Dick Grayson becoming Robin' fics right now, so I'm trying not to be picky. If this fic does end up being good despite that, I'll probably post more excerpts here.

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robots-are-kinda-hot · 3 months ago

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((long post incoming)) hi i havent posted in seven years. have slugcats

@ant1quarian is to blame for this. go look at their rain world utmv au before I implode

Side note I refer to Saint as he but none of my chars care abt gender bc i blasted them with the genderfluid beam

He would be . going thru it LMAO

I’m sure “fallen saint” did not mean a saint who probably deserved to be fallen but fuck it we ball. The problem with my Saint is he will ascend everything. Whether they want it or not. This creates a shit ton of echoes. So him losing his powers (likely due to a certain oc of mine) would actually be a good thing… eventually

At first he’d be pissed as all hell. Stays pissed as all hell when he meets Dust, Killer, and Cross (or whoever else). Getting to know them goes… ehhh. They all travel together, but Saint is trying to stay distant so he can move up karma. He’s also still very angry about losing his powers, but bottling it up bc saints shouldn't have emotions (according to him).

This comes to a head when someone gives the slightest suggestion of liking being alive. He shuts them down so fast it’s almost comical, but any good vibes are killed when Saint mentions how he ascended everything he came across. Cue argument about maybe Not Doing That. Cue Saint’s outburst (“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S WRONG?!”)

Saint storms away from the group and sleeps in a different shelter alone. He… ends up thinking a little too much and has a bit of a breakdown. Begrudgingly goes back to the group once the rain stops, looking for forgiveness, and he FINALLY gets a crumb of character development. THEN the stage is set for eventual shipping shenanigans huehehehe (Saint still needs some more character development before he has anything official though, the bastard)

Design notes (because my saint design is a bit strange if you don’t know the context) + bonus old Artificer art bc she didn’t make it in here </3 dw i still love u arti

So… I’m gonna avoid talking about the main part of his design for funsies but its blaringly obvious. feel free to guess I’m like 80% sure everyone will get it

-My Saint actually has six tentacles/“wings”- three on either side so he’s symmetrical. After he falls, he loses a wing to represent said fall.

-The Saint in the first drawing is different on purpose! That’s him at the start with no echoes :] ironically the more echoes he meets the more echoed he gets

-At least one of his ears are always askew. This has to do with his main design aspect.

-He does have teeth. Kinda. He probably wouldn’t need to eat when fallen though, he’s echoed enough to not need it

-The three thingies on his forehead act like heat sensors. This lets Saint see at lower karma levels without getting snow blindness.

-He has pupils, but they’re the karma 10 symbol… which he no longer has, so he no longer has pupils too

Arti… oh, arti. My beloved. What the fuck did I do to you /pos

I missed you and all your triangular edgy goodness. You’ll get a few modifications but your cool ass face shadow and demon horn ears are staying

A little note about Artificer’s design, too: She does have her scar here! It’s just not visible under her shadow. My Artificer got so swept up in her rampage that she straight up forgot about her pups. Not coincidentally, her scar is vaguely shaped like a slugpup’s head. She’s blocking out the memories of her past in favor of needless bloodshed.

Not pictured is her fire fur that I still adore. Basically sometimes her fur just… isn’t fur, it’s fire, and while it is a more symbolic thing I love the idea of her fur turning to flames when she jumps

#this got out of hand #long post #my rain world au/story is vehemently against ascension because I’m allergic to killing my blorbos #Saint has more of a backstory than I said but I’ll keep that secret for now #I was gonna draw a more anthro Saint but… meh #I’m still getting reused to drawing slugcats and I wanted to draw slugcats #This is also why I didn’t draw arti sadly #Not necessarily shipping my saint with a specific boy. just setting up a background and kicking my saint off his high horse #anyway time to disappear for another 5000 years #rain world #rain world downpour #rain world utmv #rain world saint #this post make no sense because theres no context. do you expect me to give it to you? no. suffer #blank’s art #blank’s rw stuff

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shigayokagayama · 2 years ago

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teru week day seven: birthday

Teru wished he could say he had totally forgotten it was his birthday. He wished he could have gone about his morning as normal, nonchalantly checked the date, and realized oh! He was fifteen years old today!

Instead he lay in bed, sleepless, watching the sunrise through his blinds, shivering, waiting for his phone to go off.

He had told himself last night he had to get to bed early. If they called while he was asleep they called while he was asleep, he could just call back in the morning, no big deal. Nevermind that they always seemed to be too busy to pick up the phone. Nevermind that their voicemail inbox had been full for six months.

He heard his phone buzz and sat up in bed, staring at the light illuminating his nightstand. He waited until the light dimmed before he worked up the courage to reach for it.

“Hey! Wanted to know if you’d be available to swing by the office later today, just got a big assignment and could REALLY use the help. Thank you!”

Oh. It was just Reigen.

“Sure! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ TERU✧ﾟ･:*”

Teru decided to officially give up on trying to fall asleep. It was, what, 5:30 am? Perfect time to wake up on a saturday.

As he absentmindedly flipped between TV channels he heard his phone buzz again. Reigen again?

“Happy birthday Hanazawa-kun :) Do you want to hang out today?”

Teru smiled. It was pretty rare for Kageyama to text him first. He was good enough at keeping conversations going, but initiating them seemed to be a struggle for both of them.

“You remembered?”

“Yeah! We’re almost exactly a month apart haha :)”

“☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆ I have to go to Reigen-san’s around 16:00 but before then I’m free (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ TERU✧ﾟ･:*”

“I just got up but meet downtown around 9?”

“╰(*°▽°*)╯ Sounds good! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ TERU✧ﾟ･:*”

“Okay! :) See you then!”

–

Teru scanned the area as he walked through the crowded streets of downtown Seasoning City. The area seemed safe enough at a glance, but he could never be too careful. The man in a blue hoodie had been walking the same path as him for a couple blocks now, maybe it was time to quicken his pace. The man didn’t speed up to match him so Teru let his shoulders relax a bit. Oh, there was Kageyama, about three blocks away. He hurried forward, careful not to lose focus on his surroundings.

“Kageyama-kun!” he called with a wave as soon as he was on the same block. Kageyama looked at him with a start and waved back.

“Oh, hi Hanazawa-kun!” he said with a slight smile. “It’s been a bit, huh? How’ve you been?”

“Ah, I’m alright,” Teru said. Should he talk about his recovery post confession-incident or would that make things weird? “School’s been alright, and my friends from the Awakening Lab have been keeping me busy outside that. How about you?”

“Ah, I’ve been so busy with school and my clubs that I haven’t really had time for anything else,” he said, “I actually haven’t really gotten to see Reigen-shishou at all since. Uh.”

He looked away uncomfortably for a moment. Teru reached out and put a hand on his shoulder with a reassuring smile. Kageyama looked back and smiled weakly.

“So! What’s the plan?” Teru asked.

“Boba?” Kageyama suggested.

“Don’t think they’re open this early, coffee maybe?” Teru said.

“Oh, I don’t like coffee that much, it’s too bitter,” Kageyama said guiltily.

“Hummingbird taste buds?” Teru giggled. Kageyama snorted and rolled his eyes. Since when did he do that? “You know most cafes serve things other than coffee, right?”

“But you said coffee,” Kageyama protested.

“I meant it as a catchall for ‘served at cafes’,” Teru explained, “Context clues.”

“Do sandwiches fall under the ‘coffee’ umbrella?” Kageyama said, thoughtfully stroking his chin and suppressing a smile.

“My friend, a coffee can be anything you want it to be,” Teru said with the intonation of a philosopher. Kageyama giggled and Teru felt his heart jump. Since when did he do that?

–

“I’ll take a mint matcha frappe with extra whip,” Teru said, stepping aside to let Kageyama order, then jumping back in front of him. “Two pumps of mint actually, please.”

The cashier stared at him blankly, then flickered her gaze to Kageyama.

“Uh. I’ll have a hot chocolate I guess.” he said

“Any adjustments?”

“No, thank you.”

“Okay so a mint matcha frappe with extra mint and extra whipped cream and a hot chocolate,” the cashier said. “That’ll be 1468 yen.”

Teru reached into his pocket for his wallet at the same time as Kageyama. The two of them raced to put their yen on the counter first.

“It’s your birthday,” Kageyama said, shoving Teru’s money aside, “Let me pay.”

Teru groaned and rolled his eyes, putting the 2000 yen note back in his wallet. The cashier took Kageyama’s note and handed him back his change.

“Fine,” he sighed, “But on your birthday I’m getting you the most expensive drink they’ll let us make, got it?”

“They get more expensive than yours?” Kageyama said, voice lined with disbelief.

“Oh yeah, I totally could’ve bankrupted you back there,” Teru said as they walked away, “I swear I’ve ordered 1200 yen drinks from here before with all the syrup and caramel I’ve added.”

“At that point I don’t even think that could legally be considered a drink,” Kageyama mused. Teru heard his phone buzz and his hand shot to his pocket.

Just a spam call.

He put his phone away again, trying to ignore how much he was shaking. God, why did he have to be so weird about this? It was just a phone call.

“Hanazawa-kun? Are you alright?” Kageyama asked.

“Oh, I’m fine, just waiting for a phone call,” Teru tried to say casually. Kageyama didn’t seem to believe him. Before he could press him, Teru spotted the barista putting their drinks on the counter.

“Oh! Our order’s ready!” Teru shouted before he could say anything, shouldering his way to the counter and swiping both their drinks, handing Kageyama his with a smile. To his dismay Kageyama still seemed concerned.

“What’s the phone call about? You seem kind of worried about it,” he said.

“Oh, nothing, just… uh…” Teru knew he couldn’t dodge the question a second time without making it seem more concerning than it actually was. It’s nothing, it’s not important, he shouldn’t be so anxious about it. “Uh, the last time my parents called me was on my birthday last year. So. I thought they might again, this year. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“...Since last year?” Kageyama said. Teru’s heart dropped. Why did he have to say it like that?

“Yeah, I mean, they’re pretty busy,” Teru said, “Hey, wanna go to the river? I saw ducklings there the other day.”

“Oh I, uh, yeah… sure-” Kageyama said.

“Great! Let’s go!” Teru ushered him towards the exit, hoping the conversation would die once they were outside.

–

“...I don’t know if they got a new phone number and didn’t tell me or just stopped checking their voicemail or what,” Teru said. The shining sun reflected off the water through the gaps in the shade of the cherry trees planted along its edge. He leaned on the railing, watching a mother duck coax her ducklings from the shore into the water. It was too nice a day for the conversation he was having.

Kageyama had barely said a word since he started talking, just…listened. It felt…nice? To be heard? To be understood? To not dedicate all his effort into throwing solutions and backup plans at a problem he didn’t know how to solve?

“I just. I feel like I should have moved on by now,” he said, “I haven’t even seen them in person since I was nine. I’ve adjusted to life without them. But…”

“It still hurts,” Kageyama mumbled gently, leaning against his arm. The two of them looked out over the water in silence for a moment. Teru could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he turned to look at him.

I guess we’re even now.

He cringed inwardly at the memory of how Kageyama’s face twisted at the comment. Why had he said that? To lighten the mood? Make himself feel less guilty? Maybe the medication they gave him at the hospital had made him delirious?

He was the first real friend he’d ever had and he felt like, with every word he said, every crossed line or potential misstep, he was closer to losing him.

How do you make someone stay?

–

“You think Reigen-san will be mad we’re late?” Teru asked.

“No, I think he’ll understand,” Kageyama said, looking away in a manner that suggested he was hiding something. Oh god, Reigen probably would be mad at them, wouldn’t he? He had gotten so caught up in talking that he didn’t notice the time. Teru noticed the blinds shut as they approached the building and froze.

“Hanazawa-kun?” Kageyama asked.

“Sorry, thought I saw something,” he said, eyes narrowed. It’s probably nothing. Maybe the sun was in their eyes or it got too bright.

As they stepped into the building Teru could feel his suspicions growing. He could see that the room was dark from the hallway. Why would Reigen turn the lights off? He didn’t seem like the kind of person who would just leave without them. Had something happened to him? Kageyama didn’t seem to notice anything was off, sauntering to the door.

“Wait!” Teru said as he reached for the handle. Kageyama looked up, puzzled. “Something feels off.”

“What do you mean?” Kageyama asked.

“The lights are off, and I saw the blinds close when we were outside,” Teru said, “I think someone might be trying to ambush us.”

It was difficult to read the expression that crossed Kageyama’s face as he spoke. He stared at him for a few seconds before responding.

“Well, if something’s in there, we can probably handle it, right?” he said. Teru forced a smile. He knew he meant well, but he didn’t like being humored like this. Kageyama turned the knob and opened the door. The office was dark save for the light pouring in from the hallways. Teru could detect other espers nearby, most of them significantly weaker than himself but-

“Surprise!”

As Kageyama flicked the lights on Reigen, Hoshino, Asashi, Kurosaki, the Shiratori brothers, and Mob’s little brother emerged from the dark. Kageyama turned to him with a fond smile.

“Happy birthday, Teru,” he said.

Teru stood, unable to think of how to react. Reigen motioned to the table by the couch in the corner where a chocolate cake sat adorned with candles.

“I wasn’t sure what flavor you wanted so I made an educated guess,” Reigen said.

Teru tried not to let on how strained his voice was when he spoke.

“It’s perfect.”

–

“So, afternoon next Saturday works?” he asked.

“Yep! Have a nice night, Hanazawa-kun,” Kageyama said.

Teru looked back at him and gave a small wave as he walked towards his apartment. The building was stiflingly quiet as he stepped in and turned on the lights. As he slipped out of his shoes he looked at the clock. 12 am. One full day of being fifteen.

He didn’t even glance at his phone before getting into bed.

#i planned this last year but never actually wrote it #also it was originally supposed to be a lot more light heared but i thought abt him too long and got sad #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #terukiweek2023 #teruki hanazawa #shigeo kageyama

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spanishskulduggery · 1 year ago

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Hey there, I always learn so many interesting new things on your blog. The way you answer everything in a very detailed way helps me understand Spanish so much better! <3

I was wondering for a while how you express in Spanish where in a book/movie/task you are. Phrases like "I'm in the middle/end/beginning of the book/movie..". "I'm at page 13/minute 35", "I'm at the part where the hero almost dies", "I'm at exercise 6 out of 9". (etc)

I've once been told to use "ir por" for one of those, but I've never seen it used context and it just sounds weird to me. Is there one phrase you use everytime? Or is there a different one each time?

Thanks in advance :) <3

I'm going to need the native speakers to add to this because I can only speak from my more limited experience here

So again, followers please let me know what you would say or what sounds natural to you

For these, you're more likely to use estar en or estar a OR you can use ir; it's often a matter of preference... I tend towards ir when I am actively reading or watching something, and estar when I am at a certain point specifically

estar en el principio = to be in the beginning

estar a la mitad = to be halfway through "estoy como a la mitad" = I'm like halfway through / I'm about halfway through

estar al final = to be at the end/ending

You can also see casi "almost" used here... like casi estoy al final "I'm almost at the end", or you can phrase it a different way like sigo en el prólogo "I'm still in the prologue"

You can use ir por in these like voy por la mitad "I'm halfway through", which to me feels more like "I'm working on it" rather than "this is where I am"

You can say things like estoy en la última página "I'm on the last page", or estoy con el último "I'm on the last one"... I'm not 100% sure what is most common, but you can see ir used too

voy por la página 45 [cuarenta y cinco] = I'm on page 45

voy por la segunda temporada = I'm on the second season (of a show)

voy por la tercera parte = I'm on the third part

I think estar en could also be used here too... like estoy en la página 45 to me reads the same as voy por la página 45 the only thing is that ir to me conjures a feeling of motion while estar is static... sort of like "I'm in/at" vs. "I'm going through"

If you're talking minutes my experience is it's estoy en el minuto X... like apenas estoy en el minuto 5 "I'm hardly five minutes in"

My instinct for specific problems is estar en el seis de nueve "to be on six of nine" or something like estar en el ejercicio seis de nueve "to be on problem six of nine"... the "out of" is usually de

Sometimes you see estoy en el último "I'm on the last one", estoy en el número tres "I'm on number three"... I think in some contexts and with certain verbs you could use con like estoy con el primer ejercicio which feels like "I'm focusing on the first exercise"

You'll also see things like voy por la primera temporada de siete "I'm on the first season out of seven (seasons)" for TV shows, or voy por la segunda película de la serie "I'm on the second movie of the series". In both cases I think estar would make sense here too

Note: You will also see the verbs pasar "to pass", or something like alcanzar "to reach"... like he alcanzado la última parte "I just reached the last part" or something like that, sometimes llegar a "to arrive to/at" as well

Side Note: You didn't specifically ask for this, but this also shows up with ages... this is more regional though. You often use tener for a specific age [because tener is just the verb you use for "to be X years old"], but estar or ir/andar por approximate ages or age ranges

I think in Spain you say something like estar en la veintena "to be in your twenties", estar en la treintena "to be in your thirties" etc etc

In Latin America you often say estar en los veinte (años), estar en los treinta (años)

Another one is andar por "to be in"... like andan por los ochenta (años) "they're in their eighties"

-Note that andar por is "to be around", so it could be like anda por los quince (años) which is like "he/she is around fifteen"... it could be a whole decade, or it could be "approximately + specific number"

#asks #langblr #spanish language #spanish #followers?#long post

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singlecrow · 1 year ago

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What do you find has changed the most about how you write or experience some of the MASH characters over your years of writing them? :o Are there any that you find yourself liking more that you didn’t give much attention to in your earliest days of telling their stories?

for context: I started writing MASH fic in 2002. After a year or so I wandered off and wrote other things, then did it again in 2013, wandered off after six months or so, came back to it in June of this year and haven't wandered off yet. My 2013 fic is on the AO3 and is ok! The 2002 stuff isn't, and wasn't. I really like that apparently I come back every ten years to an old and beloved fandom, particularly when life is especially trying.

So, what's changed. The big change is that in 2002, I shipped Hawkeye and Trapper! (I'm not gonna say traphawk, we didn't have smushnames back then except in Buffy fandom and everyone made fun of Buffy fandom.) Anyway, I shipped them a lot! Partly because they're adorable (I still think that) and partly because Paramount in the UK only had the rights to the first three seasons of the show. What else do you do, except make lists of all the times they feed each other. And write fic about them feeding each other. I'm very glad it's not on the internet but I really did love them a lot. I think I wrote something about they came to build the still, which means for a short while in 2002 at the age of 14 I also knew how to build a still! a good time.

I don't have any ship fic for them online any more at all; in 2013 I was writing AUs and ensemble pieces (a daemon AU; a Vorkosigan AU - that one I have absolutely no explanation for; a modern dystopian AU; etc). Hawkeye is my favourite character in the show by a country mile, so he's always a thing in my stories.

So the big change is Margaret Houlihan, my beloved. I don't think I thought about her much at all before @cosmic-llin asked me to write five times Margaret Houlihan was really proud of herself, and someone else I forget who asked me to write her meeting CJ Cregg from the West Wing. (I can't find this one, I think it's probably on some long-deceased LJ/DW kinkmeme.)

After that, I was proud of her too! I stand by my view, with apologies to Llin who has done her best to convince me otherwise and almost succeeded, that Margaret during the Frank years can be interesting but is mostly unbearable. But she's interesting, and then the process of her becoming so much more than what she was is both very interesting and gives me feelings, and I adore her. My thing about her and Hawkeye - about how they mirror each other perfectly, in who and what they are and what they can become; and everything about their snippy, bone-deep, ridiculous friendship, is a relatively new thing which I've so enjoyed writing this time around. It shows up very briefly in 2011 where I think I wrote something about Hawkeye trying to rig the vote on the ERA for Margaret's benefit, but otherwise, this is the lovely new place I've got to, I've written seven stories now that are either entirely or significantly about their friendship and regret nothing. ❤️

#mash #margaret houlihan

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pynkhues · 1 year ago

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Very silly question, but how much time do you think each of the succession kids has spent with each parent (in one-on-one settings and I guess just generally)? I've had it in my head that Roman's actually spent less time with Logan than his siblings in both contexts (especially in childhood where I tend to think Logan didn't actually spend a ton of time with his family), but I'm not sure if that's a common read or something I kind of made up lol.

Ooo, I think that's actually a really interesting question, anon. Mm, I agree that I think Roman's probably spent the least time with Logan, and I actually think he's even spent less time with Logan than Connor has. While we know Logan abandoned Connor for that three year period, I think the show's implied a level of relationship between Logan and Connor that exists beyond the game of Succession, particularly in the RECNY Ball but also, of course, in the video played in the finale. I kind of have a lot of Thoughts on Logan's relationship with Connor, haha, but that feels like a whole other post.

There does seem to be a degree of punishing distance between Roman and Logan, and I think there's a lot that could be read into it as Logan's discomfort with seeing shades of his own weaknesses in Roman, which is perhaps clearest in the reveal that Logan was sent away to school himself and sent away Roman in turn. Interesting too, because I think the show's also been pretty clear about Logan seeing his favourite strengths in Roman too (his instincts, his politics [or lack thereof], and his nose for occasional ruthlessness), but I do think for Logan the weaknesses outweigh the strengths, as they do with all his children.

As for Caroline, I do think it's Kendall. There's a post that's been going around for a while that Kendall is Caroline's Connor, which I appreciate the idea behind, but actually pretty vehemently disagree with. I think to reduce the complexity of Caroline and Connor's mother's respective relationships both to Logan and to their children diminishes the

I do think Caroline seems to feel least connected to Kendall, but we also have Logan making clear that Kendall was his heir (and as a result, his son - what's the quote? The heir, the spare, and then one for mum) from at least the time he was seven-years-old, and I think that combined with the fact that Kendall's inherently vulnerable in a way she herself has never been allowed to be and as a result doesn't know what to do with, is kind of quietly devastating.

Like, gosh, we see that three times over between the kids with Kendall trying to tell her about Dodds' death and her disappearing, to her awkward conversation with him at her wedding after he almost drowned, and then again with Roman crying at the funeral and her inability to leave the pew.

Harriet Walter actually did a great interview a while ago with The AV Club about Caroline and she talked a bit about how she always assumes Kendall wants to have it out with her about what a shit mother she is, and she just doesn't want to do that, which I also think is an interesting character note, especially as she seemed more willing to have that type of conversation with Shiv.

In that sense, I guess I do think Caroline feels the most distance from Kendall, but I think in a lot of ways her feelings about him are probably more complicated than Logan's are about Connor. There's so much dense terrain between them - a forest of her personal sense of failings as a first time mother, of Kendall never getting to really be her son, of the further forced separation Logan inflicted on her with all three of their children, of Kendall's vulnerabilities and addiction issues and suicide attempt which she has no tools or capacity to handle. It's complicated! And messy! And I don't think helped by the fact that Kendall's likely enabled that distance for more reasons than one.

#we deserve a christmas special which is the first christmas at caroline's after the finale #i find caroline's relationship with the kids sooo interesting #and i'm a big caroline and connor lowkey like each other truther too haha #but yes!#defs think roman for logan and kendall for caroline #succession meta #hbo succession #logan + roman #caroline + kendall #welcome to my ama

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grissomesque · 1 year ago

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Interestingly enough, I feel the complete opposite about Tom and B’Elanna’s relationship re: he does enough right most of the time that it’s noticeable when he doesn’t. I feel like he’s such a a shitty partner to her that it stands out way more when he is actually nice to her lol. Lineage and Drive make me cringe to watch because of how bad is he at showing empathy towards her. And I like him as a character! I just think he’s better person when he’s 1000 ft away from B’Elanna.

Also re: the wife guy stuff, I definitely think that particular piece of fandom revisionism started from people reading too much fanfic and forgetting what the actual source material is like. Plus, people have a tendency to just call any male character who’s married a wife guy

I guess what I mean is that when he's good with B'Elannna, it aligns with what we know of him as a character overall and with all of his other relationships. So the bad stands out in that context, if that makes sense.

For example, he's so protective of Janeway (Time and Again, Dreadnought, Deadlock, I'm even gonna say Worst Case Scenario because we all trust Tuvok's judgment here 😆) and we periodically see hints of that with B'Elanna, so I can look at that and go, okay, there he is. (Or I can look at it and go: HE BELONGS WITH JANEWAY! 😁) Then he does some rude shit to B'Elanna while B'Elanna is acting wildly OOC herself, and at that point I just tune it out, because it's a disservice to both of them.

I mean: she gets on his case about the holodeck, but she rock climbs and sky dives or whatever on the holodeck? He tinkers with old cars and she's an engineer? How is it possible that they have so little in common? Well, it's not, we're even told that they always wanted to design a shuttle together, and it's just bad writers making Some Dumb Point about Poor Vulnerable B'Elanna. They both deserve better.

I can't even watch Lineage. I hate both of them in that episode. And if my spouse tried to genetically modify my child behind my back I would fucking lose my shit. I know we're supposed to be sympathetic to B'Elanna in this one, and I'm not unsympathetic to her feelings and her experiences, but her actions, hoooooooooo boy it's a nope for me. And even the way it all resolves still feels super unhealthy to me.

The best part of Drive is the J/P of it all. Like! Not to get on my soapbox but Janeway is so into it, Tom is so into it, B'Elanna is so not into it, why not just call it a no fault breakup and find better partners!! B'Elanna is so right:

TORRES: There's a Klingon phrase my grandmother used to use. Mok'tah. It means bad match. That's what Tom and I are. I just hate that it's taken me three years to realise it. NEELIX: If you're really such a mok'tah, it must have been an awful three years.

Yes! It! Has!!

Listen, the best argument I can make is actually a bit of my own fic, if you'll forgive me. In Renaissance Man, the Doctor takes on B'Elanna's appearance, calls Tom lieutenant to his face, and Tom's like, want some chicken? Give me a break. No one is that clueless. So I wrote (and, uh, spoilers, I guess):

They’ve known each other for seven years. They’ve been together for almost five, and married for half of that time. So he knows, immediately, that something is wrong. He knows that something is wrong because when he calls to her across the empty corridor she stops dead in her tracks, anxiety clouding her eyes. Not her eyes; the Doctor’s. The Doctor, who doesn’t know why the name Kathryn would come out of Tom Paris’ mouth. But Tom doesn’t understand any of this yet. He only knows that she shouldn’t be looking at him like that, not if everything is fine. “What’s happened?” he asks, striding over to her. “I’m fine, Lieutenant,” she snaps. “I’m extremely busy.” His blood runs cold.

Because I am a bit single-minded about J/P, it wasn't until after I posted it that I realized how much that also speaks to P/T. Like, that's how it should've played out for them, realistically. But they once again sacrificed Tom's characterization for a bit.

Anyway. A thousand times yes to fanon wife-guy revisionism.

#tom paris #asks #meta

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trinity-mia · 10 months ago

Text

a story as endless as the ocean

the lightning thief

0.7 some minor explanation

warnings : cussing

word count : 4.4k

0.7 Luke Gives Me Some Much Needed Context in a World Where I Need a Whole Encyclopedia to Understand Everything that is Going On

News of 'Allie Jackson' being in camp spread around quickly.

Luke led me all around camp and everywhere I went people would stop whatever they were doing and whisper among themselves. I wouldn't be able to hear most of what they said, but if I got lucky I'd catch a few bits and pieces.

Most ranged from, "Holy SHIT, it's Allie Jackson," to, "I heard she fought the Minotaur. How badass is that?!" The only person in the whole camp who seemed to have a problem with my arrival was Annabeth, who I had yet to see again.

Luke showed me a few places: the metal shop (where kids were forging their own swords), the arts-and-crafts room (where satyrs were sandblasting a giant marble statue of a goat-man), and the climbing wall, which actually consisted of two facing walls that shook violently, dropped boulders, sprayed lava, and clashed together if you didn't get to the top fast enough. He showed me the mess hall, which was an outdoor pavilion framed in white Grecian columns on a hill overlooking the sea. There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls.

I was going to ask where we ate when it rained, but then I thought better of it. I'd just stepped into a world where the Greek gods were real; I doubted they needed to worry about the 'little' things like the weather.

Then he took me to see the canoeing lake, the stables, the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheater, the archery range (which made me very excited and I'm sure Luke could tell), and the arena where Luke said they held sword and spear fights (this also made me excited, so much to the point where I didn't even wonder what kind of twisted summer camp had a sword and spear fighting arena). He took me to the armory, where he said all of the weapons and armor were held and that Chiron would get something that'd work for me later today.

Finally, he formally showed me the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They were arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on either side. And they were, without a doubt, the most bizarre collection of buildings I'd ever seen.

Except for the fact that each had a large brass number above the door (odds on the left side, evens on the right), they looked absolutely nothing alike. Number nine had smokestacks, like a tiny factory. Number four had tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass. Seven seemed to be made of solid gold, which gleamed so much in the sunlight it was almost impossible to look at. They all faced a common area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flowerbeds, and a couple of basketball hoops.

In the center of the field was a huge stone-lined fire pit. Even though it was a warm afternoon, the hearth smoldered. A girl about nine years old was tending the flames, poking the coals with a stick. I smiled at her and made a mental note to talk to her by the end of the day, if she was still there.

The pair of cabins at the head of the field, numbers one and two, looked like his-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front. Cabin one was the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polished bronze doors shimmered like a hologram, so that from different angles lightning bolts seemed to streak across them. Cabin two was more graceful somehow, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls were carved with images of peacocks.

Cabin three wasn't high and mighty like cabin one, but long and low and solid. The outer walls were of rough graystone studded with pieces of seashell and coral, as if the slabs had been hewn straight from the bottom of the ocean floor. It reminded me of home, for some reason. I could've sworn I felt connected to it, but Luke dragged me towards the canoeing lake before I could think about it further.

I jumped up and sat on the railing that overlooked the lake. I thought over everything in my head. I'd met a few people; I'd found Silena Beauregard again, who was still as likable as when I first met her. Turns out, she was the half-sister of one of my co-workers, Vanessa Frost. Nessa and I had met on the set of Inception together and, while we didn't see each other much anymore, we'd become fast friends and always tried to get on the same movies and T.V. shows. I hadn't seen her in almost a year, so our reunion was very nice.

Then, I finally ran into Danny, who had almost tackled me to the ground and startled the hell out of Luke. Danny had stopped attending Camp Half-Blood almost a decade and a half ago, when he turned 20 and decided he'd try his hand at surviving out in the world and college. He'd become my manager right out of college because I'd just turned six and my mom had started getting overwhelmed with the amount of casting calls and acting offers I'd been getting. He took a lower rate since he was so new and mom didn't have much money, but overtime he'd sort of become a surrogate father to me. He told me he was glad I hadn't died and gave me my phone and credit cards back. Luke seemed very confused at the device, so I asked why.

"Normally demigods don't use phones. You managed to get to sixteen without many monsters attacking you and you were using a phone? That's crazy," Luke replied.

"Oh, it's something me and Beckendorf have been working on," Danny said. Beckendorf, for the record, was a son of Hephaestus and Danny's half brother, who I'd met just a little after Danny found me. "Her public image is of utmost importance, so she needed to have a phone, mostly in order to keep in touch with her fans and promote what projects she has coming up. Only problem was: we suspected she was a demigod, especially after she used her phone and almost got attacked by four hellhounds. We'd asked her mom and she confirmed it, but convinced us not to take her here and wouldn't tell us who her father was. So me and Beckendorf managed to make a phone that attracted fewer monsters. It's not foolproof, but it works fairly well."

I'd met a girl named Katie Gardner, a daughter of Demeter, when we were walking past the strawberry field. She was super nice, and told me she'd help me out if I ever needed it, which I was thankful for. We clicked just as easily as Silena and I, and it was great since they were good friends, too.

Then there was Will Solace, a happy-go-lucky seeming son of Apollo (he was the one who'd healed the back of my head and pretty much everything else I messed up, so I made sure to thank him for it) and Malcolm Pace, a son of Athena, who, thankfully, wasn't insufferable like his half-sister. I'd practically run into another girl, Brylie Vegas, a younger one, around fourteen, who was a daughter of Hermes. She had recognized me as soon as we almost collided and had basically broken her back to keep from bumping into me. She was sweet and shy, so I made sure she didn't feel uncomfortable before Luke told her he had to continue showing me around.

I did see Clarisse around once or twice, but we never were able to stop and talk for more than a few seconds.

Luke let me think for a few seconds before speaking, which was something I liked about him; he had tact.

"Is there a headache forming yet?" he joked, leaning up against the rail beside where I was sitting.

"Oh, there was a headache as soon as I woke up," I replied, giving him a small smile. "As far as all of—" I titled my head looking for the right word and ended up waving my hand in the direction we'd come from— "this... it's not as bad as I think it should be. I feel like if Danny had dragged me here a few years ago I'd be flipping my shit and calling everyone out, saying they were kidding and stuff like that. I might've even thought Danny had just pulled a massive prank on me, killing the Minotaur or not. I'd have thought I was going insane."

"I get that. I was thinking about how you were taking this better than most. You're not the first person we've had to react like you are, but it doesn't happen very often."

"Like I said, too many things started adding up. I can't really deny things when they're standing right in front of my face, you know?"

"Yeah, I do," He replied. "So, do you have any dire questions that need to be answered?"

"What's the deal with the whole Minotaur thing? Didn't Theseus kill him like... centuries ago in the Labyrinth? How was he... I don't know, back?"

"That's pretty simple, kind of. Chiron calls them archetypes. They get killed, but they don't ever die for good. They get sent to Tartarus and start reforming. There's never a set time that they're down there, either. If you're lucky, they could be stuck reforming for decades; if you're not, it could take a few days."

I nodded. "Okay, I can wrap my head around that." I paused. "Why does Athena have children? I thought she was supposed to be a maiden goddess like Hera and Artemis."

"She is," Luke confirmed. "That one's also pretty simple. When she meets someone with a high intellect who she takes a liking to, she talks to them for a while and then imagines what their child would look like. So her children are basically born from her thoughts, like she was from Zeus'."

I gave him an odd look. "That's..."

"Weird? Kinda gross?" he suggested.

"Well, I was gonna say 'traumatic' but, yeah those work, too, I guess." He laughed and nodded at me to continue. "Okay, kinda off-topic question, but are we allowed to leave? And like... what happens if you choose not to leave during the winter?"

"Leaving is more or less suicide, depending on how good you are and if your scent is powerful enough. Once you reach a certain age, Chiron and Mr. D let you leave more often than not, but the younger ones have to have specific instructions. Even you and I would have to get a quest or something to have a good enough reason to leave. As for our education, Chiron teaches us everything if you choose to stay. Which a lot of people do, considering most of us have awful home lives." He looked at me. "But again there are exceptions— like how Danny can go to the mortal world to be your manager. You'd probably have some of the same exemptions because of your job."

"That's why I was asking," I told him, nodding. "Alright, this is my last question, I promise. I'm starting to feel annoyed for you," I joked.

Luke smirked at me. "Don't worry, Angel, I could listen to you talk all day."

I shook my head, trying to fight a smile. "Why are some of the cabins empty?"

Luke took a deep breath and released it before he answered. "Cabin Two belongs to Hera," he started, obviously choosing his words carefully. "As the goddess of marriage, all her children are Zeus'." I nodded as Luke went on. "Cabin Eight is Artemis' cabin. She doesn't have kids but her Hunters stay there when they come to visit camp."

From his grimace, I guessed that he had bad memories of the Hunters, either at Camp or out.

"Then there's One and Three," he explained, looking apprehensive. "They're for Zeus and Poseidon. The Big Three aren't supposed to have children anymore."

"Why not?" I couldn't stop myself from pushing. "From what I can remember, a good majority of the Greek myths are based off of Zeus' children. And Poseidon had his fair share mentioned, as well."

He nodded to me like I'd answered my own question. "That's pretty much why, kind of. Officially, their children are too powerful. We inherit powers from our parents' domains and Big Three kids are the strongest demigods, like the Three themselves are the strongest gods. Zeus' kids could call down lightning strikes or cause tornadoes. A son of Poseidon caused the Long Beach earthquake in 1933, killed 120 people. And supposedly his descendant was accused of causing the 1906 one as well. And Adolf Hitler was a son of Hades, and that's enough said about that. Supposedly they're too powerful to control themselves."

"So, what, they all just collectively decided to not have children anymore? I wouldn't think that would hold up in the long run."

"Well, sort of. After World War II, which had Hitler for the Axis Powers, and Roosevelt, a son of Zeus, and Churchill, son of Poseidon, for the Allies, leading it, the Big Three took an oath on the Styx to never sire any other demigod children again."

Finally, his wording processed in my brain. "And the unofficial reason?" I asked.

Luke shot me a wry grin. "Caught that huh? Yeah, that's not the real reason. If it was, they probably would've tried centuries ago. The only heroes recorded to have fought gods or Titans and lived, sometimes even defeated them, were Big Three kids, after all. Really, what happened was the Oracle made a prophecy. A child of the Big Three would either save or destroy Olympus, and Western Civilization with it once they turned twenty. That's why they made the Oath. And because of that, they aren't supposed to have kids anymore."

"But they didn't keep it," I guessed carefully. "You said that they aren't supposed to have kids anymore, not that they don't at all."

"Clever girl. You could be a child of Athena if your hair wasn't so white and your eyes were grayer. All of her children seem to have those features," Luke told me. "I don't think that fits quite right, though."

He flashed a grin at me but it disappeared as soon as it arrived. Pain and grief were in his eyes as he continued, trying to keep as emotionless as possible.

"About nineteen years ago, Zeus had an affair with a TV starlet named Beryl Grace— I wouldn't be surprised if you've heard of her."

I had, of course. Beryl Grace was a Hollywood tragedy. Danny used to tell me her story to scare me into making sure I stayed responsible, no matter who it was that offered me something. Still, I let him explain it to me.

"They ended up having a daughter. Thalia. She ran away from home when she was nine. Camp sent a satyr to get her to safety, but she'd teamed up with two other demigods. Their combined scent was too strong, and Hades was enraged by Zeus breaking the Oath. They were attacked constantly and the satyr eventually made a wrong turn. They got to the hill but they wouldn't have made it over the border. Thalia made the others go ahead while she bought them time. As she was—" He faltered in his monotone telling of Thalia's fate before forcing himself to continue. "As she was dying, Zeus turned her into that pine tree. Her lifeforce strengthens the barriers. Keeps all of us safe."

I studied him for a minute in silence before speaking tentatively. "You and Annabeth were the demigods she teamed up with, weren't you?"

It was a statement, not a question. Luke nodded, looking pained. I didn't say 'I'm sorry', knowing from experience how much it doesn't help. I just took his hand and sat in silence with him as he weathered the renewed storm of grief.

"Why tell me all of this?" I asked eventually. I thought it was a valid question. He didn't have to tell me the unofficial parts of the— well, it seemed wrong to call it a story when Thalia had died because of it. History, then.

He turned to look at me and I was startled at the intensity of his blue eyes. I could practically see the different shades in them.

"I'm not a son of Apollo," he told me. "I don't see the future. But I do have good instincts. And they're telling me that it's important that you know this, and as soon as possible, too."

I bit my lip, dread coursing through me at the thought of this information being relevant to my future. My mother's voice, echoing a long-forgotten conversation I'd eavesdropped on a year and a half ago, sounded in my head.

"She's not here right now. She's probably on her way back from the airport. Even if she was here, I wouldn't give up my baby! How can you ask me to?"

"I'm asking you to for her sake!" the man's voice snapped back, though it didn't have the bite in it that a statement like that usually would. "If you keep her with you, they'll find her eventually. It's only a matter of time."

"She is barely even with me. She's been in Georgia for the past month filming Marvel movies and in a few days she leaves for London for Fashion Week. Three months she goes on tour for her new album, with too many more things in between that I can't even say 'no' to— what more can you ask of me?"

"Even so, every moment she's here, she's in danger. You told me years ago that you'd let her go when she was 10. What happened to that?" My mother hadn't replied so the man continued, "Zeus' daughter is dead, which means I have nothing to use against him to settle his anger when he finds out about Allie—"

"That's my daughter you're talking about!" Mom interrupted, sounding horrified. "How can you think of an innocent girl as leverage?"

"She's not leverage, but I am thinking of Allie. Sally—"

"No, I won't. I'm done. Leave, you only put her in more danger by coming here. If you stay any longer they'll be drawn here sooner rather than later."

I never figured out who she was talking to and never told her about it— so I pushed all memory of it to the back of my head and never thought about it again. Or, at least, I hadn't thought about it again.

"I really hope you're wrong about that," I told Luke hoarsely after the sound of a conch shell being blown returned me to the present. How the hell I knew it was a conch shell is beyond me, but I decided I didn't really care. He straightened, offering me his hand to help me to my feet.

"Me too. Come on, that's the call for dinner."

As the pavilion came into view, I saw torches blazing from the columns and a central fire was burning inside a bronze brazier the size of a bathtub. Each table had a white cloth with purple trim. I liked it, it had a friendly, comfortable air to it.

Everyone in Cabin 11 lined up behind Luke and followed him to our table where we were served our dinner by wood nymphs. I wasn't surprised that the food itself was Greek-style healthy food. I had BBQ, grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, and fresh bread. I was positive this was something my dietician would have approved of, so I wasn't too particularly worried about eating all of it. Actually, I'm sure he wished I'd eat this every day and nothing else.

Luke leaned over to whisper into my ear. "We have to sacrifice a bit of our meals to the gods before eating," he explained softly to me. "I'll show you."

I took the few seconds I had to look around at everybody. In all, there were maybe a little over a hundred campers, a few dozen satyrs, and a dozen assorted wood nymphs and naiads.

I saw Grover sitting at table twelve with Mr. D, a few satyrs, and a couple of plump blond boys who looked just like Mr. D. Chiron stood to one side, the picnic table being way too small for a centaur. As I scanned the room I caught the eyes of a few people I'd met earlier today, and they all smiled at me, which made me feel a lot more comfortable.

Luke led me up to the brazier with our plates. For a second, I was sure that I saw the same young-looking girl sitting in the flames but when I blinked, the image was gone again.

Luke pushed a small portion of his meal into the fire, saying "Hermes," in a clear tone. I stepped up beside him, hesitating for a moment before pushing in some of my own food.

"Hestia and Hermes," I muttered. The brazier had reminded me of Hestia, whom I'd always liked the most in the myths, or history books I suppose. And seeing as I was staying in Hermes' cabin, it seemed like basic politeness to give him some too.

"Most people just direct it to their parents," Luke commented lowly as we wandered back to the table.

I jutted out my chin stubbornly. "It takes more than conceiving a kid to be a parent, Luke," I replied. "If he acknowledges me, I'll sacrifice to him, too. Don't see the point of doing so before that."

He glanced down at me, a smile playing on his lips. "Angel, you are definitely gonna be a breath of fresh air around here."

I smiled and as soon as we sat down we were joking around and talking with everyone at the Hermes table. They wanted to know a lot about me, most of which didn't include the 'celebrity' part of my life, which I was thankful for. After being slightly overwhelmed all day, it was nice getting to talk with them.

I had somehow ended up on Luke's lap after he insisted that it would be much more comfortable than getting my hips crushed on the seat, so after a few jokes, I moved. When I did, Brylie, the girl I'd almost ran into earlier, basically begged me to let her braid my hair. I didn't complain much, considering I really needed to do something with my hair. Once she finished her dinner, she was content as she waited for the rest of us.

When everybody had returned to their seats and finished eating their meals, Chiron pounded his hoof again for our attention.

Mr. D got up with a huge sigh. "Yes, I suppose I'd better say hello to all you brats. Well, hello. Our activities director, Chiron, says the next capture the flag is Friday. Cabin five presently holds the laurels."

A bunch of excited cheering rose from the Ares table. Clarisse was the loudest, but didn't seem to mind at all.

"Personally," Mr. D continued, "I couldn't care less, but congratulations. Also, I should tell you that we have a new camper today. Angie Johnson."

Chiron murmured something."Er, Allie Jackson," Mr. D corrected. "That's right. Hurrah, and all that." Chiron murmured something again. "And he wishes me to tell you all not to harass her with questions and such." He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Now run along to your silly campfire. Go on."

Everybody cheered. We all headed down toward the amphitheater, where Apollo's cabin led a sing-along. We sang camp songs about the gods and ate s'mores and joked around, and the funny thing was, I didn't feel that anyone was staring at me anymore. I felt that I was home.

People still came over to me and wanted to talk, but it didn't make me feel weird like it did when I was walking the streets of Manhattan. These people were now technically my family. I'd only been there for a day, but it definitely wasn't as bad as it could've been.

Later in the evening, when the sparks from the campfire were curling into a starry sky, the conch horn blew again, and we all filed back to our cabins. All of the Hermes cabin (save for a few of the younger ones, like a six-year-old girl, Julie Dixon who was very obviously a daughter of Athena), decided to stay up and get to know me. They asked a lot about my hobbies outside of acting and singing and modeling and stuff like that, which made me happy. I didn't feel singled out, or anything, which was one of the first times I could say that without lying.

I asked all of them questions, too, and we all became super close in a single night. We laughed and it was only when someone thought they heard Chiron making his way towards us did we finally go to sleep.

I hadn't realized how tired I was until I'd finally laid down and listened to the ocean. I felt my muscles relax and I knew I'd like it here.

My last thoughts were of my mother and if I'd ever see her again. Considering the underworld was a real thing, I guessed I would. I hoped wherever she was, it was paradise. After everything she did for me and everything she sacrificed for me, she deserved it.

* * *

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SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

#alliejackson #a story as endless as the ocean #asaeato #female percy jackson #lukecastellan #lullie #trinitymia

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kittenofdoomage · 2 years ago

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📝Share a snippet of an unposted WIP, with or without context.

I'm gonna put it below the cut, it's a snippet from my angsty Dean/reader series "Misery Loves Company" which no one has read yet 😅 this bit is from season four and in the story, it's part of chapter three.

It was easy to sleep for a change. Knowing the house was warded against every possible creature they knew of, and that Bobby was always on guard, helped you settle into a restful slumber that lasted for several hours without any alarms to wake you. Eventually, you were roused by voices from downstairs, curiosity forcing you to open your eyes to the darkened bedroom.

You dressed quickly, making your way out of the bedroom while shrugging on a shirt. The voices, clearer now, filtered up the stairs; you recognized Bobby’s of course, but the other was a masculine tone you couldn’t place. The mystery guy was standing in the study when you reached the bottom step, and you frowned as you approached, meeting Bobby’s eyes where he was leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. For a moment, his gaze went wide, and your frown deepened when the unknown male turned to you.

He was tall, draped in layers of plaid and flannel, floppy hair almost in his eyes as he stared at you blankly for a second. You stared right back, finding him familiar but unable to place his features, but then he was grinning, stepping into your personal space to wrap you in a hug.

“Y/N?” he almost squeaked as he practically crushed you. “Wow, it’s been so long.”

Your mind suddenly snapped into place as you realized who he was. It had been over seven years since you’d laid eyes on the youngest Winchester, and you didn’t recall him being that tall. You also knew that if Sam was there, Dean wouldn’t be far behind.

“S-Sam,” you stuttered out, extricating yourself from his enthusiastic embrace, shooting Bobby a glare. It wasn’t clear if this was an accidental visit or a planned one, though you wouldn’t put it past the old man to try. “Hi.”

“You have no idea how good it is to see you,” Sam babbled, though you saw the exhaustion on his face, the drawn lines that probably matched your own. “Oh man, Dean’s gonna -”

“Dean’s gonna what?”

A breeze accompanied the man in question’s words, and an unrelated chill ran up your spine as you convinced yourself to turn. He was standing behind you, framed in the porchlight coming through the open front door, green eyes wide as they fixed on you, his shoulders drawing up slightly with the tension.

“You know, if one of you lot actually called ahead, this wouldn’t have happened,” Bobby grumbled, shaking his head as he turned his back on the brewing drama, disappearing into the kitchen. You sighed lightly, realizing that he hadn’t organized any of this - the universe just had it in for you.

Sam’s eyebrows drew together in confusion, eyes darting between you and Dean. “Did I miss something?”

Dean stood a little straighter, a fake smile stretching his lips. “It’s good to see you, Y/N,” he managed, clearly forcing the words out, and you felt a wave of anger building in your chest. “You look great.”

It was easier to roll with the rage than it was to contain the utter relief and devastation at seeing him again. Months spent clinging to the hope that what you’d shared was real, and now you realized he never meant to call you at all. A burst of spitefulness welled in your throat, and you folded your arms, almost sneering at him.

“Shame I can’t say the same about you,” you spat.

The words wiped the faux smile off his face, and the green in his eyes turned stormy. Behind you, Sam chuckled nervously, reaching out to touch your shoulder. It took a second to remember your anger wasn’t aimed at him, though he visibly cringed at your hard glare when you turned.

“We didn’t know Bobby had company already,” he explained, retracting his hand to wring both in front of him. “We can find a motel or -”

You sagged, suddenly too tired to cling to the hostility. Your stays with Bobby rarely stretched beyond two or three days - there was always another monster, another case. No rest for the wicked. “No,” you sighed, shaking your head as you put more distance between you and Dean, siding around Sam to get to the kitchen. “I’m not stopping long.”

There was visible disappointment on the younger man’s face, but he gave you a tight smile and a nod. You ducked out of sight, slouching into the kitchen as you heard Dean ask his brother to go with him outside. Bobby was at the sink, leaning against it, arms folded as he watched you slink to the table.

“You could just talk to him, you know,” he said quietly.

“And say what?” you scoffed under your breath. “Hey, remember that time I almost died, and we spent a month in a cabin together but then you never called?” You scrunched your nose up in disgust. “Bobby, whatever ship was there has sailed. I can be an adult about this.”

“Sounds like it.”

Narrowing your eyes in his direction only earned you a smirk, and he turned his back, busying himself with the few dishes in the sink.

“I guess you’re gonna be leavin’ soon then.”

You hummed. “Soon as I find a case. Got anything interesting?”

“‘Fraid not.”

“Ugh.”

“Have you ever thought about doing something other than killing things?” Bobby suggested, sparing you a glance over his shoulder. “Like a hobby?”

“I considered crochet,” you murmured jokingly. “Why would I need a hobby?”

“It’s not exactly healthy,” he replied, grabbing a towel to dry his hands. “Even I take a break every now and then.”

The image of him with his feet up, knitting in front of a fire, made you giggle a little before you waved off his concern with one hand. “I’m fine, Bobby.” He was quiet for a moment, watching you closely. You lifted your eyes to meet him, staring innocently at his indistinguishable expression. “What?”

“You should talk to Dean.”

You grunted in disagreement. “Why are you pushing this? What the hell is going on?” Bobby quickly averted his gaze, and you scowled, getting to your feet with fists at your sides. “Bobby. Tell me!”

He shook his head. “Not my news, kid.”

Your skin felt warm as the anger at his refusal to share information grew. Taking a step forward, you glared at him, mouth set in a thin line as you tried to will him to speak. “What the hell is happening that means I need to talk to Dean?”

For the second time that day, Dean’s voice answered your question from the doorway, but the statement changed the angry heat in your skin to deathly ice, filling your veins with dread.

“I made a deal.”

You turned slowly, dragging your gaze slowly up from his feet to his face, almost wincing at the steely expression you found there. Swallowing, you lifted your chin, lips forming to ask a question you already knew the answer to. “A deal with who?”

“A demon,” he replied coolly, eyes flicking over your shoulder to Bobby, who quickly cleared his throat and avoided your gaze.

“Like I said,” he muttered as he passed you, “you two need to talk.”

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chriscdcase95 · 2 years ago

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(The following is set twelve years after the events of ATLA, and seven years after my unwritten fic, The Ancient World. Hence the Godzilla refrences.

For more context read these two posts. Otherwise, just keep doing what you're doing and enjoy the read.)

-----

It's been seven years.

It has been seven years since the Titans re-awoke. Since the golden dragon was slain, and with it, snow fell upon the Fire Nation. Since the King of the Monsters reclaimed his throne, and returned to the sea.

For many, it was a nightmarish time in the Three Nations. Azula still has nightmares about those days.

But it wasn't the giant monsters that put fear in the former Fire Princesses heart, it was that sinking feeling she'd awake and find herself back in that dark place in life. It worked her up into panic attacks and night terrors, even worse than the dragon Ghidorah, or Bagan.

And almost every time she had these, Ty Lee would be there to wake her up. To remind her she wasn't broken; to remind her she overcame that point in her life.

And to Azula's chagrin, sometimes Ty Lee would sing.

On the whole, Azula had no issue with “Ancient World Music”, as it was called.

The more Republic City develops; the more the “Uncharted Lands” were willing to share the culture and art that they kept alive for millennia; the more the newly born music industry grew.

And the songs Ty Lee had a particular ear worm for were called “Tiny Dancer” and “Circle of Life”, “Don't Let The Sun Go Down on Me”, “Don't Go Breaking My Heart” and “I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues”. Who made these songs with such long titles, Azula will never know.

And with Azula granted control over the industrial developments of Republic City - a bonus reward for her part in Ghidorah's defeat - Azula has become very accustomed to hear thousands upon thousands of songs being rediscovered and shared with the Three Nations each year.

That being said, you wouldn't catch Azula singing in public for the most part. She had a dignified and professional image to maintain as the United Republic's most powerful businesswoman.

Azula's rather theatrical rendition of “Burning Love” being the exception. That was some bachelorette party; she has since promised to mind her drinking.

Back to the point at hand, Azula would still dream of that dark period in her life. And even today, with her new success and status, she feared blinking and seeing it all stripped away. As if this was the dream.

Luckily, whatever Azula was dreaming of tonight, she awoke from it with a jolt. As usual, she'd blink several times, making sure this was still her life, and it took about four seconds to register the sound.

Yasuko was up and crying again.

Azula rolls over to see a sleeping Ty Lee. For the past five years, Ty Lee has made a decent living as a drill instructor (“Fitness trainer!” Ty Lee would insist) for the RCPD.

Ty Lee considered a job within the force itself, but Azula was pretty touchy about her putting herself in the line of danger.

Azula had no doubt that Ty Lee would be the best on the RCPD itself; after all, Ty Lee fought her one-on-one on that expedition years back. In fact, Ty Lee nearly killed her in that fight.

But as the later battle with the golden dragon showed Azula, Ty Lee was as vulnerable as everyone else.

And as the revival of the King of the Monsters showed Azula, she wasn't gonna let Ty Lee put her life on the line for some “small causes” (such Azula’s own life).

Ty Lee didn't mind; after (barely) surviving Ghidorah and Bagan, she could settle for being the RCP's drill instructor. For the time being, at least.

But for the past week, Ty Lee was fighting a cold that left her bed ridden, which meant Azula had to take up more house duties.

Azula didn't mind of course; she helped bring down Ghidorah after all; taking care of your sick wife and four month old daughter was only mildly more challenging.

Luckily, Ty Lee's cold has been clearing up the past couple days, but Azula wants to be sure, so she nudges her wife a little.

“Ty ?”

Ty Lee rolls over, still asleep and mumbling.

“Mmmm,” Ty Lee groans.

“Ty Lee ?”

This time Ty Lee speaks in her sleep.

“A two-piece special with lots of hot sauce and all the fries you can give me.” Ty Lee sleepily mumbles.

Azula lets out a mild “hmph” and amused smirk. At least Ty Lee was over her own nightmares. Nightmares about that “burned man”. He had knives for fingers, Ty Lee says.

Still, duty calls. Azula kisses Ty Lee on the forehead.

“Alright, you have this night off.” Azula saysm climbing out of bed.

“I don't want that cup. Why would I want a non-mint condition Grimace cup ? Your selection is shoddy.” Ty Lee mumbles again.

With another chuckle, Azula makes her way to the room across the hall, to Yasuko's nursery.

She doesn't bother turning on the lights, her eyes still adjusting to the darkness. The child's cries were like a foghorn in a dense fog.

Azula makes a beeline towards the crib, narrowly avoiding tripping over a stuffed dragon. Still a little tired, Azula leans over the crib to see a dark haired, wiggling infant for four months old, having rolled out of her bundle.

Yasuko’s little hands reach futilely towards the bars.

With an amused grin Azula reaches down.

“She thinks she can, she thinks she can...” Azula says teasingly, picking the infant up and holding her to her face “But you're too inexperienced to know if you can. And that's how the hare got humbled.”

Immediately sensing her mother, Yasuko stops crying, but still makes a series of whimpering and sobs.

“Now, what seems to be bothering you ?” Azula asks with a sigh, holding Yasuko close and resting the infant's head on her shoulder, protectively holding the back of her neck and head with one of her hands.

Yasuko says nothing but makes a few babyish noises.

“Oh, right.” Azula chuckles “You haven't figured out words yet. Well, you'll get a hang of it. And whatever's bothering you then clearly isn't now. So how 'bout we work at putting you back to sleep ?”

Yasuko lets out a little breathing noise through her nose, which Azula took as meaning “Great idea, momma! You always have the best ones!”

“I know I do.” Azula says, answering to the imaginary remark with a cocky smirk.

-----

Warming up a bottle of milk and settling into the living room, Azula sits down on a rocking chair, swaddling her daughter and feeding her.

Looking to the side, Azula glances out the window to a bright view of Republic City's nightlife. It always looked more alive at night, much like every other city in Azula's experience.

Matter of fact, this view brought to mind that play she and Ty Lee would catch every now and then.

It was a story shared across Uncharted Lands but only reached the Three Nations in recent years. It was about this King of the Lions, and they'd have performances of it every few years on Ember Island.

And so, unable to resist a wisecrack...

“Look Yasuko,” Azula says in a joking deep voice “Everything the lights touch is our kingdom.”

Yasuko says nothing, only letting out a relaxed sigh as she drunks from the bottle.

“Not into jokes, are ya kid ?” Azula sighs, “That's okay, we'll fix that in time.”

Standing up from her seats, and stepping towards the window, Azula lightly bounces the infant in her arms still working through the motions.

One would think that being a mother for four months would make her used to this, but ever the perfectionist, Azula was constantly on her toes that she might fuck things up.

Be it the coup of Ba Sing Se; her revival of Gojira, and seeing the downfall of Ghidorah; or even leading the new industrial age; Azula tends to think of Yasuko as one of her better achievements.

It was about a year ago she and Ty Lee even considered having a family. Azula never really saw herself as a mother before, being more work focused, as well as her personal relationships.

But like many things for Azula, shit changes.

Zuzu and Mai had a rugrat of their own the year before, and both Katara and Avatar Aang were expecting a little monster themselves. Needless to say, it brought out this sense of competitiveness in Azula.

Ty Lee going into “playful aunt” mode around Izumi didn't help Azula's resolve. Neither did the puppy dog look Ty Lee would give Azula when the subject came up. At first they considered adoption. Years after both Ghidorah and Bagan's rampages, hundreds of thousands of survivors were still displaced across the Three Nations. Especially orphaned children.

The problem was, Ty Lee just wanted to take them all, and couldn't stand to leave any behind. As for Azula, she couldn't afford opening a daycare in her house.

Eventually, Azula just threw six million into adoption agencies through her “Home For the Lost Ones” act. This effectively solved the bigger problem of orphans and refugees, but left Azula and Ty Lee back at square one.

Azula and Ty Lee considered male donors, but no options matched up to either Azula or Ty Lee's standards.

They put that option in the “Maybe” pile.

While they were still considering their options, it reached both Azula and Ty Lee that there is a method of drawing power from spirits.

If done right, one could bend the rules of nature a little; notably there were about a handful of recorded instances of same sex couples, conceiving together through this.

They differ between the genders of the couple, but this isn't a lesson on the mystical birds and the bees. Even so, these instances were very rare. So, during the Winter Solstice, Azula and Ty Lee took a gamble.

While not expecting it to actually work, they did draw upon the power of spirits. And through the act of tr- You know what ? What happens under the spirit-empowered waterfall, stays under the spirit-empowered waterfall.

Bottom line, neither of them expected to actually conceive...but Azula experiencing a week or so of morning sickness shot those doubts down.

Azula didn't expect to be the carrier between her and Ty Lee, but for whatever reason, the spirits picked her. And of course, Azula wasn't gonna back down from a challenge. It was just another in a long list of challenges that Azula would overcome and perfect.

So after nine months of enduring morning sickness; mood wings; fatigue; cravings for white and red meat (and peanuts); restless nights; Yasuko practicing her kick-boxing in utero; culminating in seven hours of labor ?

Azula would say she did a good job, all things considered.

During those, Ty Lee insisted that she and Azula take the last four off work, which was around the time her mood swings started acting up.

Azula was annoyed and reluctant at having to be taken care of as her due date drew near, but in retrospect Ty Lee deserves the world for putting up with her like that.

Azula still kicks herself for the things she said to Ty Lee during these mood swings and when Yasuko decided it was time to come out. When Yasuko was finally born, both Azula and Ty Lee took another six weeks off work.

During that time, Ty Lee proved herself to be a pro at this whole mom thing, so much so that she's taking about a year off work. As for Azula, she's still not sure if she has what it takes.

Everytime she holds her daughter, Azula minds every step she takes; always second guessing the way she holds Yasuko; even questioning if she put her to bed right.

Azula considered herself a master at many things, be it combat, strategy, politics and business. And yet this baby girl, a piece of her, has Azula questioning every move she makes.

Azula wasn’t even sure she could give this girl a bath or heat up the bottle just right without Ty Lee's help. And yet, with Ty Lee sick the past week, Azula manages to pull through.

Again, the whole “Help stopping Ghidorah” thing was just slightly less challenging.

Which is why when Azula found herself nodding off to memory lane, she silently scolds herself when she feels Yasuko's hand grabbing at her hair.

Yasuko lets out an airy “Ah” noise as she tries to take handfuls of her mothers hair and stuff them into her mouth.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Azula gives an amused grin as she gently pulls her hair out of her daughter's grasp “You're getting stronger everyday. I should keep an eye on you!”

As Azula holds her baby closer to her face, Yasuko takes the tip of her mothers nose into her mouth. It took Azula all her strength not to giggle.

“Well, that's one way of keeping an eye on things.” Azula says, gently pressing her forehead to Yasuko's. The infant lets go of Azula's nose in the process.

Yasuko says nothing, but makes a mumbling noise, before sticking her tongue out.

“Mm, I see.” Azula remarks, before glancing at the clock.

It was 2:30 now. If she doesn't get Yasuko back to sleep soon, they'll be up all night.

Carrying Yasuko back to their seat, Azula found herself humming a little tune. It was something released days ago as part of the ever growing music industry.

It was apparently another song from the Ancient World, kept alive through thousands of years of oral tradition, and now remade for a new world.

And unlike the thousands of other recreated songs, Azula found herself humming it twice now since its release. Once when she was in the shower, and again when she was asleep.

Both times, she thought Ty Lee couldn't hear her.

And yet as Azula finally realized she was humming it, she notices the way Yasuko is looking at her, as they sit back in their seats.

“You like the tune, don't you ?” Azula asks.

Yasuko makes a babble noise, before sticking her hand into her own mouth.

A smile creeps up on Azula's face, despite herself.

“Very well, if I agree to sing for you, will you agree to sleep for me ?” Azula teasingly asks.

Yasuko says nothing, but just looks up at her mother.

“I'll take that as a 'Yes'. Just don't let Mama know.” Azula winks.

And with that, Azula leans back into her seat, laying Yasuko on her chest, ear to heart. She rubs a hand up and down the infant's back, as she rocks the chair back and forth.

Humming the opening beat, Azula finds the lyrics slipping through her mouth. Even she's taken aback by how soft her voice is.

“There's a hero/If you look inside your heart/You don't have to be afraid/Of what you are...”

Yasuko snuggles into Azula's chest. So far, so good.

“There's an answer/If you reach into your so-o-u-u-ul/And the sorrow that you know/Will melt awa-a-a-a-ay...”

Yasuko lets out a hiccup, but Azula doesn't let it deter her.

“And then a hero comes along/With the strength to carry on/And you cast your fears aside/And you know you can survive.” Azula sings the chorus “So when you feel like hope is gone/Look inside you and be strong/And you'll finally see the truth/That a hero lies in you-u-u-u...”

In what was about a few seconds in real time, a whole slew of memories filled Azula's head at once.

“It's a long road/When you face the world alone/No one reaches out a hand/For you to ho-o-o-old.”

The memories were pretty unpleasant; they brought back a series of mucky feelings. Feelings she would rather do without.

Memories of her father, the asylum, and everything leading up to the Titans awakening, flooded her like a tidal wave.

“You can find love/If you search within yourself/And that emptiness you felt/Will disappe-e-e-a-a-a-ar...” Azula sings, trying to keep her voice down.

She had to blink a few times to be sure she was still here. That Yasuko was here with her, and that the past seven years were not just a dream.

“And then a hero comes along/With the strength to carry on/And you cast your fears aside/And you know you can survive.”

Again, a thousand thoughts fill Azula's head, in what was a couple of seconds in real time. Luckily, more welcoming memories and feelings filled her.

Like the explosive; the recreation of an Ancient World weapon that scorched the Earth and left poison in its wake. The kind that had the power to burn away a city with nothing more than a bright flash.

It was when the Titans awoke, when these weapons were uncovered, that Azula and her new team would recreate one of them.

At the time, Azula thought that by giving the Fire Nation such an arsenal, it would both demonstrate the power the Fire Nation still had, and provide the weapons that would slay the Titans.

For Zuko's benefit of course. He had everything to gain from this.

But that all changed, when the titan Gojira attacked.

“So when you feel like hope is gone/Look inside you and be strong/And you'll finally see the truth. That a hero lies in you...” Azula finishes the coursus, gently brushing her fingers through Yasuko's dark hair.

Azula remembers how the Avatar's crew and hers were left stranded in the Uncharted Country. How over time, she found herself connecting to those she never thought she would.

And how the very weapon she intended to fight the Titans, was instead used to empower the injured Gojira, once Ghidorah's true colors were revealed to the world.

It was what led to her and Ty Lee ending up together after all.

“Oh, oh, Lord kno-o-o-ows/Dreams are hard to follow/But don't let anyone/Tear them awa-a-a-ay...” Azula sings, noticing Yasuko was starting to snooze. “Hold o-o-o-on/There will be tomorrow/In time you'll find the waa-a-a-aay.”

Sensing someone standing behind her, Azula looks over her shoulder to see a tired eyed, but smiling Ty Lee, watching from the doorway.

Azula blushes in mild embarrassment. She tried her hardest to not let her wife catch her singing again, but a loss is a loss.

Contenting herself, Azula continues, as Ty Lee quietly makes her way to the couch.

“And then a hero comes along/With the strength to carry on/And you cast your fears aside/And you know you can survive...”

As Azula sings the next verse, she is sure Yasuko was sleeping by now.

“So when you feel like hope is gone/Look inside you and be strong/And you'll finally see the truth/That a hero lies in you...” Azula brings her singing voice down to a hush “That a hero lies in you...That a hero lies in you...”

As she finishes singing, Azula glances back at Ty Lee.

“Not a word.” Azula mouths.

“That was too cute!” Ty Lee beams, covering her mouth and wiping an eye.

Azula opens her mouth, but Ty Lee holds a finger up to stop her.

“And that wasn't A word; that was four words.” Ty Lee says, crossing her arms with a more cocky smile.

Azula closes her mouth with an amused smirk.

“Try not to wake her.” Azula says, slowly getting back up, her wife following after “Then she won't go back to sleep.”

“Who do you think you're talking to ?” Ty Lee asks, raising an eyebrow, gently taking Yasuko into her arms “Maybe the girl with four nieces and nephews has become something of an expert at the field.”

“Are you sure you can hold her ?”

“Oh yes.” Ty Lee nods “It's been clearing up since this morning. Come noon tomorrow, it'll be like I was never sick.”

Accepting Ty Lee's answer, Azula follows behind her to Yasuko's bedroom.

-----

Tucking Yasuko back into her crib, both Azula and Ty Lee took a minute to look down at the daughter.

“You know, sometimes I still don't believe it.” Azula sighs wistfully.

“Azula...” Ty Lee starts, knowing what Azula's gonna talk about.

“I know, I know.” Azula says, trying to keep herself reserved “I just had a few more of those dreams lately.”

Ty Lee doesn't push the matter. Azula talked about it extensively.

About how Azula would have a dream about waking up in the asylum; how she'd be a Firelord, but live a life that felt more empty; sometimes she'd wake up back to being a fugitive.

But the worst one was pretty vivid.

It was seven years ago, when Azula was preparing to revive Gojira. They were at Boiling Rock, where the golden dragon dropped the King of the Monsters following Bagan's defeat.

With the knowledge that the Titans fed on the power of these weapons, it was a no brainer. They just launch the weapons and empower the monster.

Except the only complete prototype could only be turned on manually. And it did not escape Azula's notice that most people were still afraid of her. Hated her even.

You'd think she'd be used to being feared and hated. But after weeks of accepting that love and compassion is not a weakness; and thinking that she was worthy of receiving it ? It hurts a little more.

Even after she helped save Ba Sing Se from Bagan's wrath, everywhere she looked she got these dirty looks. In the immediate aftermath of Bagan's defeat, almost everywhere she looked there'd be people giving her these dirty looks, or whispering behind her back.

As if they thought she was a greater monster than the so-called “Demonic Dragon God” that had killed nine-hundred-thousand people in its rampage!

Azula remembers the look Zuko, Mai and Ursa gave her when they first saw each other in the following Bagan's rampage. It looked like an addition to the nightmare they had on their hands.

So, while Zuko and his armies were evacuating the areas surrounding Boiling Rock, Azula took it upon herself to activate the weapon and empower Gojira.

She didn't care if she got incinerated, so long as she was out of everyone's hair, she'd be doing the Fire Nation its greatest favor.

But as she was setting up the weapon, expecting it to be the end of her story, word got to the Avatar and his friends what Azula was up to.

Avatar Aang, being a good boy scout, along with Katara and Ty Lee kept telling Azula was a life worth saving, how she doesn't deserve to be alone, let alone die here.

And so, when Aang, and Ty Lee both sat down beside Azula, refusing to leave her side as the timer started, Azula relented and allowed them to save her.

It was only when Azula was among the benders who aided bringing down Ghidorah did the general population accept Azula. The rest is history, leading up to Azula's new life with Ty Lee and Yasuko.

And because of this ? Azula's worst nightmares are the ones where she's back at Boiling Rock, the “weapon” at the ready, and the injured King of the Monster's staring her down.

Only this time, no one would come for her. She was destined to die there to empower a monster that would live for millennia past the Fire Nation. Doing the world the ultimate favor. And she was alone and worthless.

Azula is pulled from her train of thought when Ty Lee puts two hands on both her shoulders. They were here. In Yasuko's nursery. Ghidorah has been dead for seven years, and Gojira has returned to the sea for just as long.

Ty Lee moves Azula to face her. Azula didn't even realize she had tears, until Ty Lee wiped her eyes.

“I'm here.” Ty Lee says, reassuringly, before she puts her forehead to Azula's “You're here. And Yasuko's here; and she's always gonna be here. And so will you.”

Azula gives a sad smile, before wrapping her arms around Ty Lee's shoulder and buries her face into her shoulder. She doesn't sob, but she lets out these deep exhales as she lets this hurricane of emotions wash over her.

When Azula looks back up, towards the clock over Yasuko's dresser, she sees it's 2:37.

“I say it’s time we hit the hay.” Azula says with a sigh.

“It's like you read my mind.” Ty Lee nods.

Before they make their leave, they pay the sleeping Yasuko a final glance.

“We made something wonderful.” Ty Lee sighs, wrapping an arm around Azula's waist.

“Yeah, we did.” Azula says, reaching down into the crib, tracing a finger around Yasuka's head, without even touching her “And she will bring wonderful things into this world.”

“I'd expect nothing less.” Ty Lee says with a smile.

And with that, Azula and Ty Lee made their way to their bedroom. As they climb back in, they resume a cuddling position, with Ty Lee spooning Azula.

After a moment, Ty Lee speaks up.

“You know ?”

“Ty, not now.” Azula says, trying to get to sleep.

“I'm just saying, you sang to Yasuko and...” Ty Lee says, letting Azula catch on to what she's saying “Tap the headboard once for no, and twice for yes.”

Azula taps the headboard once. And then twice.

Stifling a laugh, Ty Lee kisses Azula on the cheek, slowly and gently rubbing her hands up and down Azula's arm.

“I sat on the roof/And kicked off the moss,” Ty Lee sings softly “Well, a few of the verses/Well, they've got me quite cross/But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song-”

“But you didn't write this-” Azula says sleepily, but with a snarky smile.

“It's for people like you that keep it turned on...” Ty Lee continues “So excuse me forgetting/But these things I do/You see, I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue...”

“They're clearly brown.” Azula says, a sleepy smile overtaking her snarky one.

“Anyway, the thing is/What I really mean/Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen.” Ty Lee continues to sing, slowly getting lulled by her own singing voice.

“I accept-” Azula yawns “Your flattery...”

“And you can tell everybody/This is your song/It may be quite simple/But now that it's done,” Ty Lee sings, completely unfazed by her wife's snark “I hope you don't mind/I hope you don't mind/That I put down in words...”

And with the next verse, both Azula and Ty Lee succumb to sleep.

“How wonderful life is while you're in the world.”

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kidelune · 1 year ago

Text

TW: Mature themes, death, violence, blood, all that jazz. Read at your own discretion.

Let all the vile and suppurating venoms of the night spit in the eyes of God and blind her to our evil.

[Breaking News (31 October, 2023): Notorious drug ring gang members arrested en masse after a major brawl breaks out near Incheon Port in broad daylight]

[30–31 October, 2023. Somewhere between Yongsan and Incheon]

Have you seen the news going around on the 31st? Do you recall the full context of the coverage articles? Let me jog your memory for you: written by an obviously politically motivated prick, spreading bullshit about violent gang members, mass arrest, and body counts. Then something else about a notoriously wanted drug ring leader turning up dead a few hours after, his leaked identity shocking the general public into an instant uproar. Yeah, I mean that news, something about... trouble, trouble, and more trouble.

Was not my cup of tea in general as you would imagine, at least not that abysmal holier-than-thou attitude it'd been written with. But I can't deny that the evidence was still all there. And as per usual, it made the population anxious. What the president of a well known major corp. being the mafia all along implied for the rest was that any thriving day-to-day establishment they adored so much could also have been sponsored by the 'bad guys'. Any neighbor or relative a pawn to other men and women who would reach all horrifying ends with their lives to get what they wanted. This allows me another chance at reminding you, though, that crime organizations have always been deeply ingrained in our society, even more than they are today. It's just a matter of getting caught at the wrong moment and having no connections to back yourself up with.

I'd been heavily medicated and asleep when it all first blew up in the early morning. Didn't even notice my body being dragged from one room to another and finally laid to rest, despite all the excruciating aches and sores I'd earned during the many hours spent in captivity. My dad had to read it to me twelve hours later, twelve hours of the final escalations and then de-escalations of the day before being real and strictly unrefuted. I didn't somehow dream it all up. It was real how all it took was one night for more of my old friends to end up dead. My boss had been killed on his own turf, the drug ring he'd lead for most of his life and the life of his father before him crippled beyond repair. A legacy left behind to rot on the bloodied doorsteps of history. Finally, scores I've taken part in rousing all these years have been settled and I was allowed to walk free. Everybody lost, everybody won. But at what cost?

My dad had been caught by the same people who had me in their custody, tied at the same joints I was and thrown around along with some other guys on our side. They'd recognized him, though, and news of him being at large again spread far and wide enough in the ranks to reach my ear within an hour or so, if I had to make a guess. We didn't even catch him, I heard them whisper behind my back, he came and purposely gave himself up. He'd been pretty roughed up, and I could tell for sure by just looking at him, though it wasn't nearly as bad a hand as the one I'd been dealt.

"They were afraid. And they didn't exactly know what I wanted, though it was obvious," pops had said after I asked him why. "I could tell. They were perplexed and afraid". Even after all these years and secure layers of thick rope, they were still afraid of Kim Junseo. They had not washed the blood off my back the night before. Not until after I'd heard of my father's presence, almost a day later. I wonder what they'd say now if they were to see him in the kitchen, humming around a cigarette while he cooks dinner in an apron.

I do wonder if Yunho had heard he was here, too, and what his presence meant in terms of the future. Did he linger on purpose? Is that why he'd disappeared entirely?

As for me, the abrupt news of my father's captivity had shocked me so profoundly I think I had slipped into some sort of comatose state for a while. I swear I couldn't breathe nor feel the pain of my injuries ripping apart all the sinews in my back, thighs and arms with every miniscule movement. I could only stare at the ground and hold in my mouth a tongue that felt far too large for it, and a desperate series of pleads and cries that may get me burnt again. He was so close yet so far away from me. Was supposed to be in Kyoto. Was supposed to be far away from all of this. And yet he was there, and with him came an opportunity the syndicate would've never again gotten. A bone made of gold for the wildest dog.

They struck the deal with me over the phone as though they knew they had hardly any time left to relay the message, let alone come in personally to slap or carve it into me. A man whose voice I scarcely recognized growled to me, and I quote, "It's either you and your father's lives, or Lee Gun-pyo's life. Two piglets to a boar. We let you go, you take us to him. Kill him, and you and your father will never hear from us again." Later, my father would tell me that he leads the Reds.

I said only—or rather croaked, "Yes."

And only truly felt the sheer gravity of that choice after waking up to my pops beside me the next day. After seeing my partner for the first time in two eternities. Only then could I finally grasp at and understand the one and truest meaning of my life. Love so hard that it kills you.

They let me go just shy after our location had finally been leaked. Bound, still, though, I couldn't run even from myself. Only talk, for the lives I intended to save. This had been my bone, and I no other choice but to chew on it blindly while it was still intact and mine to bury. I've recently been such a bad dog to my owner, anyway. Give a dog a bone and he'll find his way home.

We got there sometime past twelve in the morning when they finally began to untie me. It's was a really small and narrow 떡볶이 restaurant cornering two empty streets, and was often empty. I knew the area and place very little, except that it was ran by the unfortunate mother of a man who'd passed away serving Gun-pyo years ago. I believe he was their sponsor. Before, I had been there only twice to eat and then exchange information for pay and new tasks with the same one man that sat inside every time. October 30th would it's last day in business for a really, really long time. If only the food had been any good.

Now, I don't want any of this to read as though I'm an innocent saint that harbored not even a fraction of desire to kill my patron myself. Believe me, the size of my desire had grown fucking behemoth at this point. I was thirsty to bite off the same hands that had been feeding me scraps all my life. That's how bad of a dog I was, and still am. I don't even consider myself a victim at this point. It's just karma. I might even forgo surgery and instead bear these scars on my back for the rest of my life, as I already do the rest.

What particulars I had against this was that me gutting my patron with kitchen scissors that night had not been a choice I'd decided on by my own terms. My hands, breaking the law and fixing another all at once, were forced, the fighting a brutal blur in time, and my back fucking ached. I was hanging by a thread exhausted and tattered to such awful degrees that I'm sitting here now, writing this and considering the fact that I'd been one of the only survivors alive in the end to be a complete miracle. The van had been full when we arrived on location, and left only with three in the end.

I'd just killed a man, I thought. Before he slipped out of my grip he managed to grab my shirt sleeve with what had been the last of his strength, looked up at me and said, "I should've put you down when I had the chance."

I hadn't been able to register it in the chaos of the moment back then, but as I think of his eyes now I can trace back no hatred in the brittle frost of them on me, despite his words. He'd made me into the dog that I am now, after all. He knew all along that this day would come for the both of us. So I killed him and simultaneously, part of myself, knowing that it would've, too.

Give a dog a bone and he will bury it.

#kk.written #kk.log

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