#maybe the council killed him for going against their agenda

[cl-0v3r]

Mel is alive, but at what cost

Mel was nearly killed TWICE, her mother began being a struggle, she'd been thrown aside and trying her best to stop her, her boyfriend is not doing well, neither is anyone else (can't blame them) and the fact that she hadn't cried or spoke much about this situation to anyone a single time?? She IS upset about every single thing, yet she stays strong and enduring every bit of torture. The most she did was tell Jayce that Ambessa put her palm on the table, and let him know that she is going to push for hextech. That's it, nothing remotely related to her feelings.

The fact that she was constantly looking at Caitlyn, being able to understand her grief and knew she was in pain?? Mel knows this feeling. She'd went through it.

And in the end SHE has to pay the price of her mothers incompetence.

The intro is very much foreshadowing, we know the hands represent black rose/LeBlanc.

This is what happens in act one, she gets kidnapped by them. The lyrics do correspond to the characters as well (not just Mel, everyone.)

"Tell you you're the greatest" plays as a petal of the black rose floats down the screen, I think it adds significance to the power this organization holds, possibly the Medardas greatest foe.

"But once you turn, they hate us" both Ambessa and Mel were present in this line, I think its foreshadowing for when Ambessa switches up for whatever reason and goes against both Piltover AND Zaun. And Mel WILL go through change as well, a change that could hurt her relationship with others, and receive interest from others too.

"They hate us" could be read individually too, I feel like its a sort of "realization" ?? Perhaps Ambessa WASN'T the one that switched up, maybe Piltover switched up on them, and maybe Mel JUST got out of wherever she's taken to, and saw the mess Ambessa had done to her city??

I think this represents ACT TWO.

The hands pull away and it sort of looks like Mel is fighting back, a "get away from me" type of scream. you know what this reminds me of??

Don't mind me just pushing my Jinx/powder-Mel parallel agenda

Here is when i think Mel truly learns about LeBlanc/BR, she curiously and slowly goes to grab the rose, she learns about the history between her Mother and them, Kinos death, and most of all, learns about HERSELF. The lyrics speak otherwise.

"Pray away, I swear

I'll never be a saint, no way"

This feels like a parallel to caitlyn of sorts if that makes sense. Caitlyn had done everything to try and stop the council from attacking the Undercity, she kept her mouth shut when Jayce asked about Jinxs grenade, she was willing to protect Vi and the undercity, but how many times has she been tossed around? She'd been burned, exploded, kidnapped (god knows what happened during that time) and hit in the face by the same person, her MOTHER died because of the same person. She has every right to go insane. And she is hunting ONE person, which is Jinx. Although she is harming the people around her along the way.

What if Mel goes through a similar situation? Her mother pushed for war in her city, she dragged the enemy along with her even if she didn't mean to, she manipulated everyone around her INCLUDING Jayce, she LITERALLY got Mel hurt from the chembarons attack and killed so many people during a MEMORIAL to get her hextech weapons, Elora is most likely DEAD, not to mention whatever happened in the past between them. And the thing is, this will NEVER end throughout the entire season.

And what if she learns what she is? That she's 'blessed' by Kindred? The fact that the wolf is quite literally in her blood?

I feel like the "ill never be a saint, no way" also sort of indicates Mel will realize she'll never be able to push for peace and mercy like she always hoped for no matter what, and she comes to accept that as much as it hurts. But not like how ambessa accepted the wolf, but she sort of realizes she needs to push a little violence, towards nobody but the one and only, Ambessa "fine, if you want me to be like you, I guess I'll be like you towards YOU." Type of acceptance.

I think its also related to Mels new outfit too, she's dressed like her mother, in red and all of that. I will still stand by the idea that she has plans to decieve, but she will do something she doesn't want to do.

Mel was left with no choice, that lyric sounds like realization, acceptance, but also like a plea at the same time, an "I'll never be who I wanted to be" because in the end, she's still a Medarda, she's still her mothers daughter, she still has violence in her veins, she will never not suffer from the weight her name holds, and she will never escape it either, its like a shadow.

The Characters won't be themselves at their core this season. And those vital parts of their characters that represent them are no longer there in the intro, they all have given up what makes them, THEM design wise. (e.g.) Vi without her tattoo, Viktor hiding his identity with the mask. And the thing is, they did that to themselves because they do self-harm, they're changing themselves because THEY want to, they're forcing themselves to do that, they think they're undeserving and they're erasing their past selves.

But Mel? Mel doesn't have her gold accessories, Jewelry, or her Armor, she'd been stripped bare and hidden away because of the brutality of her name. She pays the price her mother brought to HER city. She's forced to change herself against her will, because nobody is giving her a chance to push for her ideals.

This entire theory never ends, and with all of this? I kinda do see Mel actually committing Matricide, it lifts the "Ambessa will die" theory further.

[ironmandeficiency]

council meetings

pairing: kíli / fem!reader (established)

word count: 1349

summary: politics suck worse than kíli does at keeping a secret

req: "do you want me to kill that guy for you? because he seems like a real dick and i would totally kill that guy for you." + "an annoyed but affectionate slap to the back of the head" with kili?

a/n: he’s such a dork and i love him very much

read on ao3

being an advisor to the king of erebor was no breezy endeavor. the heavy workload that came with continuous restoration efforts, four headstrong durins, and that’s not even counting the most uncomfortable chairs your ass has ever sat in.

the worst part, though? it had to be when fellow councilmembers didn’t take you seriously because of your lack of graying hair. every disparaging comment made about your youth tested your patience and almost had you showing your age by bounding the table and choking them by their own beards.

your inexperience in a formal setting, silly notes passed to cheeky princes, your sneezes when the dust of a withering tome invaded your nose — the old snots took them all as signs you were unfit for office. they questioned every bill you proposed and called you a foolish child (among other things) every time you disagreed with them.

speaking of silly notes and cheeky princes- you felt a tap against your foot under the table. of course it was your kíli, trying to get your attention so you could accept the note he wrote you.

“do you want me to kill that guy for you, ghivashel? because he seems like a real dick and i would totally kill that guy for you”

you snickered and stomped his foot under the table for nearly making you laugh. he didn’t react save for a smile and a playful wink.

once thorin was well enough to give orders as king, he appointed members of the quest as guild masters and seats on his royal council. having his shield brothers among him meant far more than the tradition of keeping nobles in positions of power, but he couldn’t blatantly show such favoritism this early into his reign.

bofur was named head of the miner’s guild and was clearly repulsed by political agendas and personal vendettas. he didn’t want to be here just as much as you. every time lord ashuk started his bitching, he would plop his hat over his eyes, kick his feet up on the table, and block out the bullshit.

lucky bastard.

that’s why you wished you were anywhere else other than where you were right now. sitting in the council chambers at the asscrack of dawn with nobles and guild masters all around, a vacation would be the least amount of compensation you’d accept for your suffering.

maybe mordor was pleasant this time of year.

this ridiculous session was only happening courtesy of lord ashuk, a noble who got his moniker during the battle of azanulbizar for his excellent hiding and pissing skills. no one knew why he was on thorin’s council to begin with, much less why he hadn’t been ousted before now.

he was determined to question the integrity of every other dwarf on the council simply to make himself look superior.

as per ashuk’s personal itinerary, no session is truly complete without your name getting a good dragging through the mud.

“there are far too many members of this council with no knowledge of the inner workings of erebor! and one of them is a woman, no less!” ashuk sent a nasty glare your way and you returned it to him tenfold.

it took every bit of willpower you could muster to not flip your hair oh so discreetly and reveal your status as future queen of erebor.

nearly every dwarf who reclaimed the mountain erupted into furious yelling. gloin shot his chair out from under him and called ashuk every foul name under the sun. this startled bofur from his dozing and with a quick update from bombur on what was going on, the miner rushed to your defense as well. dwalin’s voice was made clearer with the way his hands gripped the hilt of his axes.

even fíli, typically the calmer of the princes, was outraged. you were the sister he never had, one of his dearest friends and the second bravest woman he’d ever known behind his amad. you were soon to be his sister in law, for mahal’s sake! he had every intention of rising from his seat and getting in ashuk’s face to defend your honor, but thorin’s firm grip on his shoulder steadied him.

and your dear kíli, for all his typical silliness and cheerful disposition, could turn rightly sour when the time called for it.

the youngest prince may not be well-versed in politics, but he knew how to read the intentions of those around him. with every thinly veiled insult thrown at those around him, ashuk was blatantly questioning uncle’s decisions as king and ostracizing himself from the rest of the council.

to quote bilbo, ashuk was a hen stuck in the fox’s den.

kíli rose from his chair calmly, a fire in his eyes that many had never seen from him before now. balin noticed his moving to stand and went to pull him back down, but the attempt was shaken off.

as the other council members noticed the dark prince rising from his seat, their voices puttered out. young or not, kíli was still a prince and his status alone demanded attention and respect.

with a subtle nod, thorin told kíli to say his piece.

“i must disagree with you, ashuk.” the name was spit with all the disgust one gave when speaking of goblins. “it is my personal opinion that there are far too many members of this council that called their king a fool when he called for aid in reclaiming this very mountain.”

he leaned on the table, hands spread out as he leveled every noble with a cold stare. “nearly every noble in this room laughed in thorin’s face when he presented his plan to reclaim our home. yet now that the hard work was done for you, you expect to be treated with respect you didn’t earn.”

members of the company nod along, many of them beaming with pride at kíli. “you speak as if you intimately know the trials we had to face while you called us fools for facing smaug.”

“she can’t even stand up for herself!” ashuk interrupted when kíli paused for a breath.

that was the wrong thing to say, thorin mused to himself. balin was barely holding in a smug laugh because he knew exactly what kíli’s reply would be.

if kíli wasn’t angry before, he sure as shit was now. “your future queen should not have to justify her presence and capabilities to filth like you! she could have your beard on our mantle for the way you’ve spoken to her these past months and i don’t believe a single dwarf in here would object!”

well. this was decidedly not the way you planned on announcing your courting status to the others.

ashuk shared the same blank stare as a dead fish and it nearly had you and bofur doubling over in laughter. before everyone could erupt into yet another fit of chaos, thorin called the meeting adjourned and sent away those who weren’t of the company.

once the outsiders left, shouts of joy and laughter echoed through the lapis hall.

“did you see his face?! priceless!”

“if it weren’t so ugly, i’d like to preserve it!”

“i didn’t know ye had it in ye, lad! great job!”

“you’ve got yerself a good one, lassie!”

kíli went to your side after you both escaped all the well-wishes and hugs from the others. he kissed your temple lightly and pulled you into his embrace.

“thank you for telling off ashuk for me, my love.”

your prince grins and leans down for a kiss, which you happily give him. he’s distracted enough by you that he doesn’t notice your hand moving ever so slightly until he feels a thwack! on the back of his head.

he winces and moves a hand to rub at the sore spot, giving you his signature kicked puppy eyes. “that was for spoiling our surprise, kee.”

“you have to admit, my dear, it was a pretty interesting way to break the news.”

“you are definitely right about that.”

“as always!”

“don’t push it.”

[angels-creative]

all that matters

Summary: "As someone who dated him for three years, he doesn't act like that. Something is wrong and, as his ex-girlfriend, if anyone would know, it'd be me." (Or, Deuce is acting strange. Clawdeen tries to find out why. Takes place 2-3 weeks after MH2)

Notes: Hi everyone! This is my first fic in two and a half years. I'm kinda nervous about it, but also had it read over twice, so it should be all good to go. Happy reading!

Warnings: Mentions of unsupportive families, talks of mental health, and depictions of stress and exhaustion.

Word Count: 2.5k

Taglist: @spideyspeaches @goldenavenger02 @ninja-go-to-therapy @the-panwitch @rejectofsociety @lostintranslaation

Ao3 Link

--

Clawdeen.

Deuce is acting weird.

Admittedly, she doesn’t know him that well yet. They’ve been going out for three months, but only made their relationship official two weeks ago. Maybe it’s just her supernatural senses. Maybe she’s just smart. Either way, Clawdeen can tell something’s up.

“Are you okay?” she asks, at their weekly student council meeting. Now that she’s a prefect, she’s actually required to be there. As president, Deuce is too, although he looks like he’d really rather be anywhere else.

“I’m fine,” he replies. He pulls out his chair and sinks into the seat next to her. He really doesn’t look good. His once bright emerald orbs are now dark and dull, splashes of crimson mixed in with the whites of his eyes. He looks absolutely exhausted. His snakes, judging by how one slithers out from his beanie and tries to bite her, seem moody, too.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he apologizes. He swats the snake away, and pulls his beanie down farther over his mop of curls. “So,” he asks, turning his attention back to their classmates gathered around the table, “what’s on the agenda for today?”

--

Heath.

Clawdeen, despite being the amazing girlfriend she is, isn't the only one to notice something's wrong.

Heath is Deuce's best friend. Him, Deuce, and Cleo go back to ghoul school, and he notices something is wrong when he's with Cleo in Phys-icks.

"Dude," he asks, his tone doubtful, "are you sure you should even, like, be here?"

Deuce, in response, jolts awake, and glares at his roommate from beneath his glasses. "Yes." He scowls. "I'm fine. Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

"Hmm." Cleo, from her seat beside Heath, taps her pencil against her chin. "I don't know, Deuce. Maybe because you look oddly like my family did, after we woke up from a thirteen hundred year sleep? That could be it."

Heath rolls his eyes. He loves Cleo’s sarcasm as much as anything else, but now is not the time for it. "Or," he says, lightly elbowing Cleo in the waist, "maybe it's because we care about you? And we literally went through something super traumatic two weeks ago, and want to make sure you're okay?"

Deuce shoots Heath a disapproving ‘really?’ glare, aiming daggers at his best friend yet again. “Okay?!” he repeats, as he slams his textbook shut. “Why would I be?! Why would anyone be?! Clawdeen literally died, Draculaura nearly got killed by witches, and I took a knife to the throat! All within the first few weeks of school starting!”

“Don’t forget Toralei almost won the prefect election,” Cleo adds in, unfazed by the emotional outburst. “That was pretty terrible, too.”

“Cleo,” Heath hisses. “Knock it off.” This was not the time.

Deuce’s eyes glow a bright green, but they aren’t the shade Cleo, or Heath, was used to. Once an intense, entrancing jade, they're now transformed, dark and stormy, and, for the first time in her life, Cleo doesn’t see her ex-boyfriend, kind and calm, behind those irises of sea green.

“Cleo,” he growls, “that is literally the least important part.”

"Deuce, Heath, Cleo— is everything okay over there?" their teacher calls from across the room.

"Yeah! Everything is fine, Ms. Ziz!" Heath gives her a thumbs up, and smiles sheepishly. Then, he glances between his best friends, and hits Deuce on the shoulder, his eyes immediately dying down. "You guys need to cut it out." He breaks up the minor fight. "Cleo, you're being απερίσκεπτος, and we don't need your snarky remarks. Deuce—" He tosses over a pair of black, stone-proof sunglasses. "We're only trying to help. You need to stop being such a snake, and chillax, man."

Deuce sighs, but catches the shades nevertheless, trading them with the ones he is wearing. Heath always keeps an extra pair handy, and he knows he can count on him. He always has his back. "You're right," he agrees. He pulls his beanie down farther, before hurrying out of the room. "I- I'm sorry, I can't be here."

"…Sooo," Cleo says, spinning around in her chair, "that was weird, right?"

"Oh, yeah." Heath nods. "No doubt about it."

--

Cleo.

Cleo knows Deuce better than anyone.

It’s not really a surprise. Before attending Monster High, they’d been dating for two, nearly three, years. She knows everything about him. She knows that he has a pet rat, Perseus, and his mom absolutely despises him for it; she knows that he’s the youngest of his family, and has six sisters; and she knows that he’s always wanted to play casketball, but can’t because he tore his ACL when he was fourteen, and it never completely healed.

Thus, she also knows when Deuce is keeping secrets.

She isn’t subtle about it. She catches Clawdeen in the library later that day, her wedge sandals click-clacking against the spiral staircase. “Clawdeeen,” she calls, sing-song, “you need to talk to your boy toy!”

Clawdeen coughs, nearly choking on her meow-cha latte. “Cleo!” she whisper-shouts. “What the Kronos?! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“I would’ve just gotten Frankie to bring you back to life, it’s fine.” Cleo shakes her head and waves the issue away, dismissing it.

“Yeah, because that worked out so well last time.” Clawdeen glances down at the scars lining the palms of her hands. They’d been healed for a while and didn’t hurt anymore– but that didn’t mean they weren’t painful reminders of how her friends, Draculaura and Deuce, had nearly lost their lives. 

They could’ve died that night. 

Draculaura had nearly been killed, Zamara using her to destroy all of vampire kind, and Deuce had almost gotten his throat slit, sacrificing himself while she took on the big bad, yet again. She couldn’t keep letting them– letting him– do that, and couldn’t keep putting them in harms way. They’d endured too much, and who was she, as a leader and student representative, if she couldn’t even protect her pack?

“It still worked, didn’t it?” Cleo rolls her eyes and sits down beside her. “Anyway,” she steals a sip from Clawdeen’s meow-cha latte, “we need to talk. Deuce has been acting strange lately. He’s been falling asleep in, like, every class, and it’s something Heath and I have both noticed.”

Clawdeen raises an eyebrow. “How many classes do you have with him?” They were only halfway through the school day!

“Like, two.” Cleo shrugs. “But that’s not the point. He fell asleep in Phys-icks, and totally freaked out on me and Heath. Plus, did you even see him at the student council meeting today? He looked horrible."

Clawdeen nods. Horrible isn't the word she'd use, but Cleo was right; the bloodshot eyes, pale skin, and irritability really wasn’t a good look.

“—As someone who dated him for three years, he doesn’t act like that. Something is wrong, and, as his ex-girlfriend, if anyone would know, it’d be me.”

“Okay…” Clawdeen frowns. “Well, why don’t you talk to him about it?” As far as she knew, Cleo & Deuce were still friends. Hell, they’d known each other since middle school.

“We’re… not really on speaking terms,” Cleo explains. “Not at the moment. Our conversations are almost entirely limited to group projects and small talk.”

Clawdeen sighs. If she’s being honest with herself, she knows something was wrong, too. She just doesn’t want to admit it, because addressing the issue would make it seem real. Their relationship is still new, and she wants to keep it fresh and fun for as long as possible.

She also knows, though, that if she wants this relationship to work, she has to be honest with him. Deuce had stood by her side, helping her against Komos and Zamara, all while reinventing himself. He offered her advice on her new social media superstardom, and was one of the first monsters to actually not judge her on orientation day. If Clawdeen can’t be anything, then she can at least take Cleo’s advice and be a good girlfriend. 

"Okay," she agrees, at last. “But I haven’t known him as long as you and Heath. What makes you think he’ll talk to me, if he won’t even talk to you two?”

Cleo has to resist the temptation to roll her eyes again, the words ‘because you’re his girlfriend!’ on the tip of her tongue. But she knows that wouldn’t be enough.

“Because he loves you,” she says sincerely. She remembers how anxious she felt when her and Deuce first started dating, and she suspects Clawdeen is feeling the exact same way. “You’re his safe place. I see the way he looks at you. There’s a spark in his eyes that I didn’t see when he was with me, Clawdeen.”

She hasn’t seen so much energy in his eyes in an eternity.

“And I know,” Cleo continues, “that when we first met, I liked to cause chaos and mischief.” She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “But you can trust me when I say I’m being honest with this.”

--

Deuce.

Clawdeen follows through with her end of the bargain; though it takes a little longer than she likes. She finally makes it out of casketball practice and fearleading at six fifteen. It's almost seven by the time she rinses herself off with a shower, and visits Deuce in his dorm after that.

She stands at the door and raps her knuckles against the wood. She remembers Heath telling her about his plans with Abbey- so it should just be the two of them tonight. Hopefully she can actually get Deuce to open up and talk to her.

"Clawdeen?" he says, as he opens the door. He's dressed in sweats and a green t-shirt, holding the knob in one hand, and a mug in the other. If that isn't strange, Clawdeen doesn't know what is. 'Deuce doesn't drink coffee,' she thinks to herself. In fact, he hates hot coffee. If he has to survive on any caffeinated drink, it's definitely iced caramel meow-chiatos. "What are you doing here?" He takes a sip from his coffee. "Aren't you guys having that sleepover with Twyla tonight?"

"Nah." She shakes her head and smiles politely. "Twyla's trying to pass her Boogeyman exam, so she's pulling an all-nighter in the library. Can I come in?"

"Y-Yeah, of course." Deuce steps aside and Clawdeen walks into the room, her claw slippers silent against the floorboards. She's never been in Deuce's dorm before, and it's so different from her own. The walls clash with tiger orange and pine-tree green, and Clawdeen can't even count how many plants they have. 

'Amazon vibes,' she thinks to herself. 'Interesting.'

"Heath's an environmentalist," Deuce explains, and Clawdeen nods in understanding. She knew he was passionate about global warming and saving the rainforest; she just didn't know how extreme he was about it. 

Maybe she'll talk to Heath about that next.

"So what brings you here?" Deuce asks. He places his coffee on the nightstand beside him, and the two sit on the bed together. Clawdeen makes herself comfortable, trying not to stare into his captivating emerald eyes. "You miss me or something?" He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Clawdeen laughs, a glowing bright smile, and suddenly she's reminded of why she fell in love with him all over again. "Always,” she states. “But I’m here for a reason. Heath and Cleo said you fell asleep and kinda freaked out in Phys-icks today. I know we just took down Zamara, and no one’s really checked in with one another…”

“So you want to know if I’m doing okay,” Deuce finishes for her. “And I appreciate you for that, Clawdeen, but I’m fine. I processed everything as soon as we got back, and I am awesome. I’m all good to go.”

Clawdeen gives him a Look™. She doesn’t believe him, and she’s not having it. “Deuce, are you kidding? You’ve been a walking zombie all day, and you almost stoned Cleo in Phys-icks.” She grabs his hands and meets his eyes with her amber ones. “Talk to me, please. I just want to know what’s going on with you.”

Deuce takes a deep breath and sighs. He holds on to Clawdeen's hands, and his eyes drift over to the rug beneath his feet. He knows she isn't going to let this go, and he'd really rather not lie or hide things from her. That's not how a relationship works. "I haven't been sleeping great lately. I've been drinking coffee to stay awake. I keep on having nightmares about Zamara and Komos. It's not even about getting turned to stone. I just… I'm there, with a knife against my throat, and I see you lying there, on the floor with Frankie, and… I can't lose you."

Clawdeen offers him a soft smile, and wraps him in a hug. She's not a very affectionate person, but she's making an exception. She's also never had friends, never mind a boyfriend before, but she's already made up her mind; she's going to do everything she can to support and help them.

The only way to have a friend is to be one.

"Thank you for telling me," she says. "Have you… talked to anyone about it? Your moms or your dad?"

Deuce shakes his head, and buries himself in Clawdeen's shoulder. Her hoodie is so soft, and he could stay wrapped up in her arms forever. "I don't know who to talk to," he says, his voice cracking. "My moms wouldn't get it. They're already pressuring me to follow in their footsteps, and hate that I go to Monster High. They'll be so ashamed of me. I can't go to them with this."

Clawdeen nods, and holds him close. She's met Deuce's family before, and knows they aren't the most supportive. His bio mom, Medusa, is pretty ambitious. While that isn't necessarily a bad characteristic, her opinions consist of how gorgons should "never be nice," and "always succeed, at any and all cost."

Needless to say, Clawdeen isn't really a fan of her- despite how much she tries to be.

The two of them sit in the quiet for a while, Deuce silently sobbing on her shoulder. They stay there for what feels like forever, until Clawdeen is sure that he's asleep.

"Deuce," she whispers, "I am so sorry." She can't believe she roped him into helping her, and now his mental health is suffering from it. "But I promise we're going to work through this together. I'm with you till the end of the line, alright? We're going to fix this."

They have to fix this.

How is she supposed to fix this?

[miju-khan]

( assad zaman, 32, cis man, he/him ) — Look who it is! If you take a look at our database, you’ll find that MIJANUR KHAN is a PAINTER that works in SECTOR 9. According to the file, they’re a mutant with the power of BLOOD CONSUMPTION. That must be why they’re CREATIVE and ERRATIC. If you ask me, they remind me of burning rubies and charcoal fingerprints, the acrid taste of copper in the air, and a febrile energy ready to break. They are affiliated with THE SOCIETY.

basic information:

character name: Mijanur Khan

nickname (s): Miju

face claim: Assad Zaman

mutation status: Gen II mutant

birthday: Nov 3

sexuality: Bisexual

moral alignment: Chaotic neutral maybe?

occupation: Cartographer (but he dreams of moving into the artist career soon!)

work sector: Sector 5

affiliation: The Society

3 positive traits: Creative, devoted, adventurous

3 negative traits: Erratic, moody, melodramatic

biography (optional):

tw: blood, death

Miju was born to a council member (whose sector will remain unspecified so I don't block anyone else's potential plots) and an interior designer. He was a very loved, and very sickly baby. Diagnosed with haemophilia, his parents made sure to keep him thoroughly pampered and protected, but he didn't grow any healthier, and his mother's milk seemed only to make him sicker.

His mutation became apparent when he began to teethe, and finally got what he needed. Not mother's milk, but mother's blood. It was a sacrifice both parents happily made for him. Although rationing ensures he gets donated blood bags from the hospital, it is far far better if Miju can drink straight from the source.

The hunger can, unfortunately, be hard to control. Especially as a teenager, because Miju was not exempt from the uncontrollable appetite of being a teenage boy. This led, one day, to him drinking from his willing father, and then drinking, and drinking some more. He drained his father, killing him and irreparably fracturing his relationship with his mother.

The government, naturally, mandated a great deal of therapy and supervision after this. It was many years ago now, and Miju leads a solitary life. He is a creative soul, with a great love for art that he cultivated as a child, losing himself in the beautiful illustrations of fairytale books. This creativity is expended largely on his work, drawing up maps based on information brought back by those that traverse the expanse. He does annoy his more pragmatic colleagues, because Miju is prone to flights of fancy with his maps and adds more extraneous illustrations than is strictly necessary. But HE is having fun doing it!

Generally, Miju leads an isolated life. He's ashamed of his past, afraid of what he might do. But he IS very active with the Mutants' Society. He wants mutants to have adequate support networks, protections, etc, so while he can be quite flippant day-to-day, this is one thing he is very earnest about.

questionnaire:

how do they feel about living in sol city? have they always lived there or did they travel from another settlement?

He has always lived here, so knows nothing else. He certainly prefers it to the alternative. With that said, he would love to go on reconaissance missions to scout out locations to map! Unfortunately due to the haemophilia, it's too risky for him to travel where he might get injured.

do they trust the council’s leadership? why or why not?

He is critical of them, but not necessarily against them. He just feels they have their own agenda and he wants to examine those agendas closely before he puts his support behind any proposed motion. He likes to bitch and moan about them, because he likes to bitch and moan, but truly he supports the idea of a hierarchical structure.

Also, though, he inevitably feels awkward around the council. Being that he accidentally killed his dad, a council member. Ha ha :O)

if they chose their sector and profession, why did they make that choice? if they didn’t, why not? were they happy with their assignment or not?

He did! In an ideal world, Miju would be an independent artist with a wealthy patron (with or without Benefits, ahem), but until he can make his way into the art sector, he enjoys cartography as it allows him to exercise some artistic freedom.

what’s one object that they always keep on their person?

Splint rings. They can restrict his movement a bit when he's trying to work, but Miju suffers frequently from joint pain and they help. He generally also has painkillers, heat pads, and various other portable first aid goods.

(mutant only section)

what is your character’s ability (or abilities)?

Blood consumption. Not really an ability so much as a straight up mutation.

are they gen i or gen ii?

Gen II.

what can your character do? what are their strengths?

He can consume blood. I say 'can'. He has to, he can't digest anything else. His strengths include having cute pointy canine teeth.

One nice thing about his mutation is that his saliva contains endorphins -- it cannot be transferred mouth to mouth, but mouth to wound? Definitely! So when he drinks blood from a person, they don't feel pain, and they get a nice high out of it.

His eyes change depending on his hunger level. When freshly sated, his eyes are bright red, and in general his skin is flushed and plump. When hungry, his eyes are dark brown, and he has a sickly pallor about him.

Drinking blood also helps if he has had any bleeds recently. If he can't get a transfusion, a little drink can replenish his health pretty well! It's not got any real healing powers for him but it does help with managing his illness.

what can’t they do? what are their weaknesses?

His weaknesses are that if he doesn't drink blood, he is getting no nutrition. Simples !

is there anything else you’d like to specify about them?

No!

[wip-wizard-in-progress]

On the recent situation:

Fuck the wizard council, eh to the recently fired councilmember Jim (Respect you for quitting, don't respect you for wizard-councilism, averages out to neutrality), and Serioth was the only good part of the wizard council for standing up for the civilians, unlike the rest of the council which was only focused on themselves.

[lady-griffin]

Pulling the Last Bit from @arcane-ish post here

Cause it really helped me understand Vi’s motivation during her council room scene.

Actually, the darkest read to this scene is a very different one. Because the one adjustment that Vi does make to her strategy is that she gives Jinx's name to the council even when Caitlyn wouldn't have done that.

So the darkest read is that in this moment Vi sees Jinx as being Silco's creature as Silco truly owning Jinx. She has stopped seeing Jinx and Powder as the same person. It's okay to let Silco leave with Jinx, it's okay to give Jinx's name to the council because Vi does not care about Jinx, because Jinx belongs to Silco. After bringing down Silco she can care about getting Powder out of Jinx, but right now, Jinx is a lost cause. She "lost" Powder to both Silco and Jinx way back when. It's okay to give Jinx's name because Jinx has got to go.

(personally, I don't buy that the "Vi cares only about Powder, not Jinx" line is that hard, but to me that that read is still more plausible than any level of "Silco and Vi show any amount of respect for each other/perceive what the other has with Jinx as love in this moment")

During the council scene - I found myself getting angry and frustrated that Vi gave up Jinx’s name to the council because I’m just like - don’t tell the fucking council her name Vi! Like if you want to protect her, like you keep saying you do, than this is objectively a terrible way to do it.

This does not help you do that. This is putting her in danger. 

Obviously, you don’t have to agree with her killing people, that’s more than reasonable, but this is not the way to protect your sister.

Are you that moved by Caitlyn? Do you hate Silco that much?

You’re putting your sister in serious danger. 

Caitlyn hesitates because even though she doesn’t like or really want to protect Jinx, she understands that giving up her name to the council is bad - Caitlyn wants to protect Vi’s sister for Vi. 

Jayce has actual leverage over Silco in their meeting because he has Jinx’s name.

So, I actually really like this dark take and it makes Vi far more understandable and consistent for me, at least. All the frustration I felt for her during that one scene, just clears up.  

I knew Vi thought Powder was trapped inside Jinx.

     How she talks about her 

     How she talks to her in the finale 

But I guess I never realized how far that went in terms of separating Jinx and Powder from one another, or maybe I just didn’t connect that to Vi’s council scene.

Jinx isn’t her sister.

Vi giving up Jinx’s name isn’t betraying Powder, because Jinx isn’t Powder. Not to Vi. 

Jinx is just the brainwashed, twisted version of her sister that Silco has trapped the real Powder inside.

For Vi, getting the council to believe what they are saying and getting them to go after Silco is her goal, because that will help her save Powder.

Going to war against Silco, even if means going to war against the Undercity to stop Silco is worth it, because that will help her save Powder.

Getting rid of Silco is Vi’s goal. 

Vi is very willing to push that agenda against everything else, because that will help her save Powder.

Vi might even think that people in the Undercity would turn on Silco and even join her side, once Piltover attacks “him.”

But, Vi is pushing a lot of dangerous pieces she does not fully understand and she has an overly simplified view of the situation.

It’s not everyone (good) vs. Silco (bad)

And Piltover wouldn’t be attacking Silco directly. They’d be attacking the Undercity, which even for the people who hate Silco; they would definitely not see that as Piltover saving them from Silco, just Piltover attacking them because that’s what topside does. 

--

For me,  it’s obvious that Vi does love Jinx, because Vi loves her sister and Jinx is her sister.

But for Vi, until the end of the season doesn’t realize that.

So, at the same time she also doesn’t love Jinx. Because she believes Jinx is this prison for Powder, not actually Powder. That all she has to do is wake Powder up, reach Powder and bring her back to the surface.

Which we see doesn’t work, when Vi tries that; it just makes Jinx crumble to the ground, scared, hurt and in pain.

There is no Powder inside Jinx for Vi to save. 

Not in the sense Powder is gone forever (like Ekko thought/thinks) but she changed into Jinx – which definitely has its negatives as well as positives; but that doesn’t really matter, because good or bad, that’s the reality. 

--

But yeah, I just really appreciate the last part of this post because it helped me understand Vi’s motivation in the council room so much better.

Or at least gave me an interpretation of her motives that makes sense to me for her character. 

Because Vi doesn’t see giving up Jinx’s name as betraying her sister, because Powder is her sister, not Jinx. Not to Vi, not in that moment.

[devildomimagines]

MC Has a Terrible Day

Sooo I had a series of bad days. This is for anyone else in the same boat, have some comforting demons. 😙~✨

Thank you for your patience to anyone who has requested something recently. I’ll get to requests again shortly, I just wasn’t in a great headspace. 

It all started in the morning. You heard loud banging so you rolled over to look at the door.

“We’re leaving in five minutes MC!” Mammon called and you could hear him walking down the hall.

“Five minutes, huh?” You rolled to your back and blinked. “FIVE MINUTES?!” Without thinking, you jumped up and started stripping your pajamas off. You ran into the bathroom to quickly clean your face, apply deodorant, and begin brushing your teeth. 

You went back out to your room with your toothbrush still in your mouth. While buttoning up your school shirt, you went over to check your phone. You leaned down to press the home button with your nose, no response. You tried again and nothing. Once you had finished buttoning your shirt, with one hand brushing your teeth, the other tried to turn on your phone. No response again meant it was dead. 

“Of course,” you rolled your eyes, no power, no alarm. You threw the phone and charger in your backpack, maybe during lunch you could find an outlet to charge it.

You went back to the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste. Most likely four of the five minutes had passed already so you grabbed your tie and draped it around your neck to tie later. You snatched your uniform jacket and backpack as you slipped on your shoes and ran out the door.

~

Although the brothers gave you some odd looks, Lucifer was the only one to speak on your state of dress. “I’ll be sure to look decent by the time we arrive at school,” you were pushing out Asmo and Mammon who were your chaperones for the morning commute today. Once through the door you sighed and Asmo giggled.

“What happened, love?”

“I overslept.” You bit the handle of your backpack while you put on your jacket. Then you threw on your backpack to start with your tie. It wasn’t the easiest without a mirror but you thought you had it pretty close from muscle memory.

“Oi,” Mammon snickered, “I don’t know how, but you tied it upside down.”

With a groan you undid it. You decided to take a second to run your fingers through your hair to fix it and get it out of your face.

“Let me, MC,” Asmo offered. He popped your collar and walking backwards, he deftly tied the knot.

“Thanks Asmo,” You folded down the collar and began with the buttons and belt on your jacket. These uniforms are a nightmare on their own. You felt a tug backwards and looked over your left shoulder.

Mammon blushed, “Your half cape was twisted up.”

“Thanks guys,” you sighed, “hopefully the rest of the day goes better than this morning.”

~

It did not.

The only good thing seemed to be that you passed Lucifer’s uniform check when he passed you in the hall. He nodded and continued on with Diavolo.

Your first class was reviewing homework but when you opened your backpack, you couldn’t find your folder. You groaned internally, picturing your folder exactly where you left it on your desk in your room and began writing down the answers to review later. 

In the next class, there was an assignment due to be handed in but it was also in your folder at home. When the teacher got to you, all you could do was shake your head no and it killed you knowing it was done, just not here.

Unfortunately with over sleeping, you didn’t have time for breakfast in the morning so as lunch time approached, you were getting hungrier and more distracted.

Lunch finally came and you were starving. The menu had something that you were familiar with and you were looking forward to a warm meal. You opened your backpack to look for your wallet with your prepaid cafeteria card. Once you shuffled your books around and still didn’t find it, you sighed. Of course, you left your wallet at home. Dejectedly, you moved to a table against a wall where you knew an outlet would be. You plugged your phone in and put your head down on the table.

“MC~!” The sing-song call of your name made you sit up. Simeon smiled at catching your eye. The rest of Purgatory Hall was in tow and they all took seats around you at the table; Luke sat next to you, Simeon across from you and Solomon across from Luke.

“Hello,” you offered the group.

“Were you napping?” Luke asked. 

“Ah, no. Just recharging a bit,” You ruffled his hair with a smile.

“We can watch your stuff if you want to go up and get your lunch,” Solomon offered.

“I actually forgot my card at home and I don’t have any Grimm on me.”

“So you’re not going to eat?” Simeon looked surprised.

“If I don’t have any money, what can I do besides wait until after school to eat at HOL?”

“Don’t we have that Student Council meeting today?” Luke asked to confirm with the group.

Solomon nodded his head, “Yes, the exchange students have to be there as reps to approve new motions.”

“Ugh,” you buried your face in your backpack, “I completely forgot.” That meeting could be a couple hours depending on how many motions to be reviewed. Your stomach growled just thinking about how long it would be until you could eat.

“Here,” Simeon spoke first and you looked up to him pushing his tray towards you.

“Oh it’s ok Simeon, I’ll be fine, thank you but you shouldn’t have to go without.”

“I insist!” Simeon clearly wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“How about we split it?”

He blushed and nodded, “Ok! I’ll get you a set of silverware.”

Once he was walking away, Luke offered, “Here MC,” he pushed some candy into your hand, “for later since you’ll probably be hungry before the meeting with eating only half a lunch.”

“Thank you, Luke.” 

“MC,” Solomon asked for your attention, “You can have my drink. This one came with the lunch set but I’m not fond of the flavor.”

Simeon came back and handed the fresh silverware to you with a smile.

“Thank you for looking out for me,” you looked around the table.

“Of course! Us exchange students have to stick together!” Luke accepted for all of them.

The rest of you smiled and laughed. Simeon split the bread in half and you two shared the plate. You left a little more for him before claiming you were full so he could finish it off.

~

Your last classes were fine except for the amount of homework they assigned. Each teacher gave at least an hour’s worth of work on top of the long term assignments they already had going.

Last on your agenda was this Student Council meeting. Luke was right and you were hungry so you popped a candy in your mouth while you waited for the members to assemble. When he entered, you waved at Luke and brought the candy to the front of your mouth to hold with your front teeth in a smile. He snickered as he took his seat. 

There were only three things to review so the meeting was relatively short. Even so, you were exhausted, it felt like you were running on empty. Getting off on the wrong foot at the beginning of the day made you feel like you were trying to play catch up. You still had the walk home and homework to deal with too. 

Beel and Belphie were your walk home companions but they ended up walking next to each other leaving you to follow behind. You trudged your way home, the weight of the day slowing you down. Passing through the entrance of HOL felt like a relief to at least be home. You waved to Beel and Belphie and made a straight shot to your room. Once inside you dropped your backpack, rolled your eyes at the books and folder on your desk that should have gone to school with you and fell face first on your bed. You needed some time to just unwind before even beginning to think about your homework.

~

Through some herculean effort you managed to finish your homework before dinner. You were tired but content as you ate. The brothers were as lively as ever so you didn’t need to provide much to the conversation. 

While everyone was clearing the table, you sought out your favorite demon.

Belphegor

He had already gone to the attic so you climbed the stairs and knocked on the door.

Belphie opened the door and at first he just stared at you.

You stared back, not really sure what to say to him.

He shrugged and stepped aside to let you into the room.

Without a word, you walked in and collapsed into his bed. You took a deep breath thankful to be finally done with the day.

Belphie chuckled and copied you, when he collapsed on the bed, it made you bounce a bit.

“You know I’d never question a good cuddle session.” He wrapped his arms around you and you scooted closer to him, but he left the question unsaid allowing you to choose if you wanted to share why you were seeking him out.

You confessed as you held him tighter, “I had a bad day.”

After, you described the terrible highlights from beginning to end, Belphie listening and humming acknowledgements. You were surprised you hadn’t lost him to sleep half way through.

“It doesn’t sound all bad,” Belphie offered.

You backed up and gave him a questioning look.

“Well you didn’t get in trouble with Lucifer, he would have definitely strung us up for something like that.”

“I guess.”

“Even the scummiest of my brothers helped you start the day.”

“Yeah, though they aren’t scummy.”

“Right, right.” Belphie laughed, “The other exchange students were looking out for you too.”

“That’s true… where is all this positivity coming from?” You gave his side a pinch, “Who are you and what did you do with my Avatar of Sloth?”

“I don’t know, some human has been rubbing off on me I guess,” Belphie yawned.

“Sounds like some kind of good influence or something,” You giggled as you snuggled back into him, ready to end the day by his side.

Beelzebub

You took your plate into the kitchen where you knew he would be.

“Are you still hungry?”

The question threw you for a loop. You had just finished dinner. “No, I had enough.” You laughed while patting your stomach and putting your plate in the sink.

He was rummaging in the fridge for a post-dinner snack himself.

You jumped to sit on the counter, just watching him had a calming effect, Beel was gonna be Beel.

He noticed you staring, “Are you sure? You didn’t eat much for dinner.”

“I’m alright, thanks though.”

Beel paused, he didn’t seem satisfied with the way you answered and nodded to himself. He changed gears and opened a cabinet instead.

You were curious what he decided on eating until you recognized the box. “Are those-”

“Mhmm, they’re chocolates from the Human Realm, the ones you had mentioned last time we took a trip.” 

“Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony, was hiding food?” You smirked.

He offered the box to you shyly, “I almost ate them once in a frenzy but reminded myself I got them for you. Afterwards I asked Lucifer to put a spell on it so only you could open them.”

You reached out to accept the box and he pulled it away. Shocked, you looked up at him.

“But if you’ve had enough to eat…”

“There’s always room for chocolate!” You defended.

Beel chuckled as he surrendered the package. He joined you to sit on the counter as you went to open them, excited to see the contents himself.

“Why are you giving these to me now?”

He shrugged, “I got them for you, I thought I would save them for a special occasion, but you looked like you needed it today.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, “I did, thanks.” You popped a chocolate in your mouth and it melted just like your stress from the day. Then you laughed at the loud gulp to your side, “Do you want a piece?”

Beel nodded enthusiastically and opened his mouth for you to feed him.

Asmodeus

Asmo always welcomed an after-dinner visit to his room. You didn’t typically take him up on the offer so he was interested in what changed today.

“MC!” He grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his room and shut the door, “What’s the special occasion that brings you by?”

You smiled but it didn’t quite make it to your eyes, Asmo noted. “I just wanted to bask in your beauty,” you joked.

“Ha ha,” Asmo rolled his eyes, “but for real, what’s up?”

You looked away debating on how to answer, you had thought that maybe Asmo would be just the distraction you would need to forget the day you had.

With a sigh, you admitted, “I had a really bad today…  but you always seem to know how to make me feel better, so I guess…”

“Aw MC!” Asmo gathered you into a hug. Softer, he added, “I’m sorry you had a bad day.”

You hugged him back, already feeling some of your energy being restored. “Thanks, I know everyone has bad days… it just sucks.”

“It does, and just because everyone has them, doesn’t minimize your bad day to be insignificant. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Sure,” you released him and pulled him to sit down on the end of his bed.

You reviewed everything after oversleeping.

“You were really going to skip lunch?” Asmo asked with a squeeze of your hand.

“Well yeah, I didn’t have any way to pay for a meal and I’m certainly not sneaky enough to dine and dash in the cafeteria.”

“You should have called me! Or one of my brothers! I bet you could even get Mammon, the cheapskate, to pay for your lunch if you asked. You shouldn’t go without a meal, it’s not good for your health,” he whined as he now played with your hand.

“It’s alright, it worked out somehow.”

“I’m kind of jealous of you and Simeon splitting a meal though,” Asmo puffed out his cheeks.

“Who are you jealous of exactly?” You teased and poked his puffed cheek.

He giggled, “I’ll never tell!”

It was your turn to laugh, “I’m gonna tell Simeon!” you got up and pulled out your phone.

“Wait, no! Don’t!” He chased you to try to snatch your phone away, both laughing.

Satan

You knocked on his door lightly. He was either here or in the HOL’s library. If he wasn’t in then you’d just go to bed.

The door cracked open and you could hear Satan call from further inside, “Come in!”

You were careful with opening the door so as to not hit any piles of books that may be behind. “I’m sorry for bothering you!” You called back to him, wherever he may be.

With a pop of magic, he appeared behind you, “You’d never bother me.” He snickered at your shock.

You lightly hit his chest but smiled seeing his enjoyment. Your hand lingered on him and focused on playing with the fabric to avoid his gaze.

“Something wrong?” He raised his hand to hold the back of yours.

“It’s…” you were going to say nothing but you couldn’t bring yourself to lie. You leaned forward so your forehead rested on his clavicle. “It’s been a long day.”

The fact that you almost never admitted to your more negative feelings was not lost on him, especially since he is guilty of the same. “Oh? Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s alright,” with a shake of your head you sighed and started preparing yourself to push Satan away, “it was just a regular old bad day.”

And although you hadn’t really stepped back yet, Satan felt you move to be at an arm’s length. You started back physically and he knew a window was closing. Without another thought he pulled you in close.

You giggled but returned the hug, “Satan?”

“I’m sorry you had a bad day.” He gave you a squeeze, “do you want to stay the night?”

Maybe today wasn’t all bad. With a content sigh you nodded, “If that’s ok with you?”

“You’re always welcome.”

He picked up that you were looking to be physically close so he set himself up on the bed and you crawled in after him. You settled your head on his chest and his hand came up to stroke your hair absentmindedly. With his free hand he held a book.

“Can you read to me?”

“It’s not exactly a bedtime story,” he laughed and you relished the way it sounded through his chest.

“That’s alright, I just want to hear your voice, it’s very calming.”

Well that’s a first, the Avatar of Wrath, calming? He laughed and you smiled.

Leviathan

You had caught him in the hallway on the way back to his room.

He hadn’t seen you yet and he had his headphones on watching something on his phone.

Feeling mischievous, you snuck up behind him and pat his back. Levi jumped, yanked his headphones off, and turned quickly to see you smiling at him, proud of your little spook.

“Geez MC!” His hand went to his chest, “You gave me a heart attack!”

“Sorry,” you giggled, walking beside him. “What were you watching?”

He launched into an in-depth review, usually you’d listen more closely to provide some kind of unique perspective but today all you could manage was nodding and some sounds of acknowledgement. After the day you had, it was comforting seeing Levi in his element so you let his enjoyment radiate to you.

“Hello? MC?” Levi waved a hand in front of your face. “Are you listening?”

“Ah sorry, I zoned out there. Your face when you were talking was really cute.” You figured it would fluster him to distract him and you were right.

His face blushed deep red as he stuttered your name.

You smiled, Levi will always be Levi. You walked in front of him, leading him to his room.

“H-hey!” Levi called, you half-turned to look at him, “Is something the matter?”

You were actually a little surprised he had picked that up and it made your smile falter.

He looked down with disgust, “Is it because I was going on about gross otaku shit?”

“No,” You answered. He wasn’t looking at you so you stepped back toward him and headbutted his chest. 

He tensed up but didn’t withdraw completely.

With a sigh you admitted, “I had a rough day at school, I’m sorry I made you feel like it was because of you.”

Levi shifted and you thought he was going to move away but instead he wrapped an arm around your back and started rubbing a circle.

You looked up at him and he was back to being a blushy mess.

Mammon

You actually didn’t have to search him out since he was already walking you back to your room.

Mammon was recapping his day and he actually had a pretty good one. He got a good fill of breakfast before Beel cleaned them out, he got a passing grade on a test he was dreading and avoided Lucifer’s ire the entire afternoon. He was positively glowing.

If you hadn’t been worn down by the day you had, you would be over the moon for him as well but it still brought a smile to your face, his happiness was infectious. “That’s amazing Mammon, I’m really proud of you.”

He blushed at the praise but became serious, “You feeling ok?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded and turned to open your door.

“Are you sure?” Mammon confirmed.

“I’m just tired is all,” the day was finally over, besides entertaining Mammon. You rubbed your face to try and wipe some of the weariness away.

“Rough day?”

“I guess yeah, but it’s alright,” You offered a smile.

Mammon reached out and instinctively you leaned into his touch. You felt the warmth of his palm radiate through your cheek, complimented by the smooth feel of his rings. You hummed a sigh and closed your eyes to savor the tender moment.

“You know,” he started and you peeked your eyes open, “if someone’s giving you a hard time, I could take care of them.”

You laughed, “Even if it was Lucifer?”

He gulped, “Is it?”

“No, just wanted to see what you would do,” you teased and stuck out your tongue.

“I’d handle it, even if it was Lucifer!” Mammon pinched your cheek.

“Ow,” you said more out of habit than actual pain, “too bad you can’t beat up a bad day.”

“I could try!” He puffed out his chest.

Shaking your head, you giggled and leaned your head onto his puffed chest. “Thanks Mammon.”

He tugged you into a tight hug, “I’d do anything to keep hearing your laugh.”

Lucifer

His office door was closed. You knew that meant he was busy with something serious.

If it wasn’t serious then he usually left the door ajar, a silent invitation that guests were welcome.

You walked up to the door and seriously debated knocking. 

He did say if you ever needed anything you could always come to him but one bad day didn’t feel like it stacked up to the duties that Lucifer could possibly be working on at that moment.

While leaning your forehead on the cool door you pretended it was his chest. You took an exaggerated breath in, gathering up your strength and hoping to pick up some of Lucifer’s strength too, and turned to head back to your room for the night.

“MC?” Lucifer called, you hadn’t heard the door open, “I thought I heard footsteps.”

“Oh, hi, I was just passing by,” you lied, “Busy night?”

“Yes,” Lucifer sighed and shook his head, “Diavolo wants to move up the next event which means contacting all the vendors to reschedule and refiling all the permits with the new dates.”

“Sounds rough,” you were somewhat pleased you had guessed correctly earlier but hated to see his frustration, against the protest of every cell in your body you asked, “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

He thought for a moment, “Yes actually, come here?” He extended his hand.

You took it and sighed; more work wasn’t exactly how you wanted to end this terrible day but if you could help relieve some of Lucifer’s unhappiness then maybe it wouldn’t be too bad.

Lucifer first pulled you into the room and then pulled you into a hug.

“What-”

“You looked like you needed a hug.” He admitted with a light blush tinting his ears.

“Well, thank you,” you melted into his hold, it was firm and warm and felt like sunshine after a storm.

“Is everything ok?” Lucifer looked slightly concerned, “You were pretty quiet at dinner too.”

“I feel better now,” you tighten your grip on him trying to stop him from pulling away.

He still did slightly, “You know I’m always here for you, right?”

“Of course,” you confirmed with a smile, “it was just a bad day, it sounds like you’re having one of those too. Let’s get to that paperwork.”

Lucifer chuckled, “To be honest, the help I wanted from you was the hug. I’m glad it could make both of us feel better,” and he embraced you once more.

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

Marauders and Kate’s (Lack of) Leadership:

One more salt post, partially inspired by this issue, but something I’ve been thinking about the series for awhile.  Not bashing on Kate here, just feeling that Duggan is, to some extent, doing her dirty just like the rest of the group.

So, Kate is the Captain of the Marauder, but much like Bobby and Christian’s relationship, or Pyro’s reputation as the violent wildcard of the crew, it’s more an informed trait than something we actually see play out in the story.  Duggan really isn’t giving Kate all that much to do as “team leader.” 

I’d expect a team leader to be dealing with strategies and giving orders during battle, as well as dealing with conflicts and issues within the team itself.  Except we see Kate do next to none of that.  Most battles the group all seems to do their own thing.  We see Kate jump in to rescue her people occasionally, especially in the fight with Donald Pierce and the racist anti-mutant group, where she pulls both Iceman and Pyro out of danger.  But we don���t really see her stop and strategize mid-battle, like, “Okay, Pyro, you draw the Sentinel’s attention with fire creations, Bishop, cover him, while I phase the hostages free and Iceman freezes it’s feet.“  I think the King in Black Marauders is one of the few times where we really see Kate giving orders and making decisions during a battle.  Most of the time, the battles just kinda happen, and either they’ve been strategized beforehand or someone else has the idea (Callisto in issue 19) or people just charge in and fight.

And to be fair, Kate certainly acts like a captain in terms of their general mission.  She decides where they’ll go and what they’ll do, and she does give orders out at sea.  But she doesn’t seem to make good use of her teams abilities during battles - mostly because Duggan doesn’t really want to write about anyone but Kate and Emma (and occasionally Callisto), so he lets the potential of the rest of the crew just sit there and rot.  He’s too focused on Kate running around doing badass things to actually show her using her crew in an intelligent fashion and making proper use of everyone.

On the second matter - Kate doesn’t really have to deal with inter-team conflict because there isn’t any.  At most, there’s some friction between Storm and Emma in the beginning, and they make up after Kate’s death.  Kate’s crew just kind of automatically forms around her with no real effort on her part.  Storm and Iceman are there specifically to protect her, Bishop has his own agenda, but he is willing to work with the Marauders to do so.  Pyro is the only one who Kate would arguably have to win over as leader, and he’s been surprisingly well-behaved.  He’s never challenged her leadership or even pushed back or argued that we’ve seen.  I guess we can assume that Kate has earned his respect, or that he really enjoys the Marauders’ gig and is toeing the line so as not to get kicked off. 

It makes a certain amount of sense, but the lack of friction also feels unrealistic.  It’s hard to believe that former villain Pyro, even with his affably evil personality, will just settle right in with the crew and not clash with anyone beyond getting on Storm’s nerves.  It’s hard to believe that Bishop, who has his own agenda to follow as a Captain of Krakoa, would never run into a situation where his mission and Kate’s mission clash and he has to walk away or disobey orders.  (That was touched upon during King in Black, but then immediately fizzled out like so many other Duggan plotlines.)  Hell, even Bobby and Storm, who are Kate’s friends and love her dearly, might disagree with a course of action at some point.  But they never do.  All is well aboard the Marauder, everyone is best friends or at least willing to tolerate each other, and they all follow Kate’s orders without question, and it feels very unearned.

But to my mind, the worst issue of Kate’s leadership is the lack of information passing down to certain members of the team.  Marauders doesn’t feel like a tight-knit team, because most of the time, half the crew has no idea what the fuck is going on.  So much of Duggan’s story is focused on Kate and Emma having adventures, making back-room deals and doing sneaky Hellfire stuff, and we’re expected to just accept that Bishop, Iceman and Pyro will be kept in the dark.

As far as I know, Iceman and Pyro have no idea that Sebastian murdered Kate.  And BIshop only knows because he did his own investigation and figured it out, then had it confirmed by Storm.  I understand the need for secrecy since Emma is trying to smack Sebastian down without making it a Council matter, but surely the rest of the crew should know about this?  Bishop is a Captain of Krakoa working with the Marauders, he should absolutely know that Sebastian is playing power games.  I can understand keeping some things from Pyro, he’s a new team-mate and former villain who joined under suspiciously convenient circumstances (fell asleep on the boat?  Really?).  But surely Pyro should at least be warned that Sebastian is not their friend.  Otherwise, what’s to stop Sebastian from inviting Pyro up for a poker night at Blackstone Keep, plying him with whiskey and cigars, and getting him to spill the beans about all the Marauders latest missions?  As far as Pyro knows, Sebastian is part of the Hellfire Co, AND a Council member, he’s got no good reason to distrust him.  Because he doesn’t know that Sebastian betrayed them.

But Bobby is the worst, I think.  He’s Kate’s good friend (they even dated briefly, although it didn’t work out for....obvious reasons).  They are supposed to be close.  And Bobby straight up mutilated a guy who he thought was part of the group responsible for Kate’s death.  (To be fair, no one knew at the time that they raided that ship).  Bobby was both devastated and furious at Kate’s death, and they’re still keeping him in the dark?  Imagine how Bobby will feel knowing that the man he maimed was....not innocent, exactly, but not guilty of what Bobby believed.  How is Bobby going to feel knowing that it was Sebastian, and Kate herself kept it from him?  Bobby deserves better than to be treated like an underling like Pyro. 

Probably the worst example, though, was this latest issue of Marauders (24), where we find out that Emma Frost conned the Mercury away from a shady alien, and that alien has it in for her.  (I don’t remember the dude’s name, so I’m calling him Fake Greedo.)  Fake Greedo tries to kill both Emma and Kate, they get saved by Sebastian (?!), which is a nice moment for him.  Sebastian suggests they solved the problem with money, and Fake Greedo accepts.  Then the whole group assembles in the Mercury for dinner, and Fake Greedo double-crosses them and sends the entire group, including Sebastian, Iceman, Bishop and Pyro, out the airlock into space. 

The problem here, is that as far as I can tell, Bishop, Iceman and Pyro had NO idea about the deal or Fake Greedo’s grudge with Emma.  Pyro literally has a line when he’s handing payment over to Fake Greedo: “I dunno who you are, or what you did to get paid, but you happy?”  In other words, Pyro doesn’t know a damn thing about the deal or the Mercury.  And I don’t think that’s just a joke about Pyro being clueless.  He, Iceman and Bishop were off doing their own thing during most of the issue.  (What were they doing?  Who knows, Duggan couldn’t be bothered to show it.)  It seems like Emma and Kate just....didn’t bother to tell half the crew about what happened.  So they ride back to Earth with an alien who has a serious grudge against Emma, and the three of them have NO idea what’s going on, and they get sucked out of the airlock to possibly die, with without knowing what’s happening or why.  They deserve better than that.  If nothing else, Bishop is a security guy, he should know what’s going on. 

If this book was written by someone better than Duggan, I would expect some repercussions from this.  I’d expect Bobby, Pyro and Bishop to be angry that they were killed (or almost killed) because of one of Emma’s backroom schemes that they didn’t even know about.  I’d expect Bobby to be especially angry that his friend Kate keeps not telling him things.  I’d expect maybe some kind of splintering of the group or at least conflict that isn’t resolved immediately, because secrets have been kept that they deserve to know.  But what will probably happen is that next issue Emma will do something cool, and any dead Marauders will get resurrected, and everyone will be totally fine with everything.

Anyways, like I said, this is not meant to drag Kate as a character, this is me discussing how Duggan is really doing her dirty by not giving her a chance to be an actual team leader.  Because he wants her to be “in charge,” but he also doesn’t really want to write a team book, he wants to write her running around in pirate cosplay having swashbuckling adventures, so she winds up looking like a negligent, unnecessarily secretive leader.  And I know she can be much better than that. 

[notapaladin]

Obsidian and Blood, an overview

Do you like fantasy? Do you like mysteries? Do you like Mesoamerican mythology? Do you like ALL OF THOSE THINGS TOGETHER, set against the lush backdrop of Tenochtitlan in 1480? (Or maybe you just want to know more about the series I have been going feral over since August.) Then buckle up, because oh boy have I got a series for you!

*drumroll, please*

OBSIDIAN AND BLOOD, written by Aliette de Bodard (better known for her Xuya and Dominion of the Fallen series)

There are two kinds of people: Those who see the words “Aztec fantasy/murder mysteries set in very well-researched 1480s Tenochtitlan BUT WITH MAGIC, investigated by the HIGH PRIEST OF THE GOD OF DEATH” and immediately ran off to buy them, and those who clearly need convincing. So here I am, shamelessly plugging my new hyperfixation!

Obsidian and Blood consists of three semi-standalone novels and three (free!) prequel short stories, all featuring 30-year-old Acatl as our first-person POV mystery solver. Acatl is not, however, your average historical detective; aside from being set firmly in Tenochtitlan in 1480 with all that implies re. the acceptability of slavery and human sacrifice, he also is the High Priest of Mictlantecuhtli in a universe where the gods regularly meddle in mortal affairs and magic spells are powered largely by rituals and blood—animal, human, or your own. You’d think this would make Acatl really, really good at solving murders, but you’d be wrong. He is the least of the Triple Alliance’s three High Priests, and his god doesn’t come at his servant’s beck and call. Not to mention the other gods, who have their own deadly agendas. That’s not even getting into the people around him, who might be the most dangerous of all. Luckily, he has more allies than he thinks—if he has the strength to actually reach out to them and admit he could use the help!

(He doesn’t need to reach out to his student Teomitl. Teomitl, a confident young warrior of imperial blood, keeps volunteering. This gives Acatl roughly one heart attack per book.)

You will like them if…

I did just say “magic murder mysteries in 1480s Tenochtitlan,” right? It’s real Precolumbian Mexico hours up in here! The history of the Aztec Empire and their Triple Alliance actually forms multiple key plot points throughout the series!

you’re into Aztec history/culture in general

if a DnD fan, you are REALLY into the Raven Queen

you think blood magic is super cool and wish it wasn’t treated as the realm of The Bad Guys

you get incredibly hyped over lesser-known mythologies treated respectfully but also very awesomely (the thing where the Aztecs thought human sacrifice kept the sun in the sky? Yeah, in this universe it is literally true and plot-relevant)

you are big into chaste heroes, lots of snarky asides, highly opinionated narrators who let their own prejudices destroy them, “from an outside perspective this is cosmic horror but for the characters it is a Tuesday,” mysteries with twists you will NOT see coming, and themes of trauma/memories/family legacies

you love reading about dysfunctional family relationships in various states of repair/further destruction

you’ve ever thought “hey this historical mystery is cool but what if there was MAGIC”

you like noir detective stories but want them with magic

you like urban fantasy but want them to have historical settings instead of vaguely modern-day ones

Plot/character summaries below!

SHORT STORIES (prequels to the novels, blurbs by me)

Obsidian Shards

Warriors have been found dead in the town of Colhuacan, obsidian shards embedded in their hearts. Acatl, priest of Mictlantecuhtli, suspects a creature of the Underworld—one he already calls a foe, for it slew his first and last apprentice.

Beneath the Mask

In the Tenochtitlan suburb of Coyoacan, Acatl’s childhood friend Huchimitl begs him to save her only son’s war captive; the man whose sacrifice will make the boy a proper warrior is paralyzed from an unknown curse, unable even to rise from the floor. But who could have cursed him, and is it connected to the mask Huchimitl now wears?

Safe, Child, Safe

A toddler is slowly wasting away, the mark of the Underworld on him, and Acatl is tasked with finding the cause. But no creature of the Underworld kills so slowly, and so Acatl must turn his investigation to the living.

THE BOOKS (blurbs taken directly from the book listings, you don’t HAVE to read them in order but I do recommend it)

Servant of the Underworld

Year One-Knife, Tenochtitlan; the capital of the Mexica Empire. Human sacrifice and the magic of living blood are the only things keeping the sun in the sky and the earth fertile. A Priestess disappears from an empty room drenched in blood. It should be a usual investigation for Acatl, High Priest of the Dead—except that his estranged brother is involved, and the more he digs, the deeper he is drawn into the political and magical intrigues of noblemen, soldiers, and priests—and of the gods themselves...

(Neutemoc: I didn't mean to sleep with her! It was an accident! Acatl: I don't understand. Did you trip?) (Acatl: I don't want a new apprentice! Teomitl: :D? Acatl: ...I will make an exception)

Harbinger of the Storm

The year is Two House, and the Emperor of the Mexica has just died. The protections he afforded the Empire are crumbling, and the way lies wide open to flesh-eating star-demons—and to the return of their creator, a malevolent goddess only held in check by the War God's power. The council should convene to choose a new Emperor, but they are too busy plotting against each other. And then someone starts summoning star-demons within the palace, to kill councilmen...Acatl, High Priest of the Dead, must find the culprit before everything is torn apart.

(Teomitl: I've only had Acatl and Mihmatini for a year, but if anything happens to them I'll kill everyone in this room and then myself) (Quenami: Playing With The Big Boys.mp3)

Master of the House of Darts

The year is Three Rabbit, and the storm is coming. The Mexica Empire now has a new Emperor, but his coronation war has just ended in a failure: the armies have retreated with a paltry forty prisoners of war, not near enough sacrifices to satisfy the gods. Acatl, High Priest for the Dead, has no desire to involve himself yet again in the intrigues of the powerful. However, when one of the prisoners dies of a magical illness, he has little choice but to investigate. For it is only one death, but it will not be the last. As the bodies pile up and the imperial court tears itself apart, dragging Teomitl, Acatl's beloved student, into the eye of the storm, the High Priest for the Dead is going to have to choose whom he can afford to trust; and where, in the end, his loyalties ultimately lie...

(Teomitl: I am no longer Baby I want Power) (Acatl, to Teomitl: What have you got there? Nezahual, gleefully: A coup! Acatl: NO!)

THE MAIN CHARACTERS (in order of appearance)

ACATL “By my face and by my heart, I’ll bring you justice.” High Priest of Mictlantecuhtli, god of death and the underworld. As such, his duties include both the obvious ones of arranging funerals and standing vigils for the dead, and the less obvious ones of investigating magical crimes and keeping the boundaries between the heavens, Earth, and the underworld intact. When Servant of the Underworld begins, he’s only recently been promoted and hates it. Has a strained relationship with his living family, due largely to not having lived up to his (dead) parents’ desires for him to become a warrior like his brother Neutemoc. Bitter, cynical, and grumpy, but devoted to justice and fairness.

Has an official character sheet.

CEYAXOCHITL “Everyone has to grow up and take responsibilities. Even small, humble priests.” Guardian of the Sacred Precinct and wielder of the power of the Duality (Ometeotl), which makes her the sworn protector of the Mexica Empire and its Revered Speaker from all sorts of mainly-magical threats. Somewhat past middle age but still very strong in her magical abilities, and something of an antagonistic mentor to Acatl. (She nominated him for the position of High Priest. He is not appreciative.) Serious and devoted to her duty, with a keen eye for potential in others. Dies in Harbinger of the Storm and you WILL cry.

NEUTEMOC “Priests hide and run away. Warriors don’t.” Acatl’s older brother, a Jaguar Knight with five children and a failing marriage. Resents Acatl for not helping to support their aging parents by becoming a warrior like he did. The central suspect during most of Servant of the Underworld’s plot, though by the end he and Acatl have begun to repair their relationship. He is strict, stern, and bitter, but truly loves his family. (In the case of his younger brother, that love is buried very deep down.)

TEOMITL “If we don’t believe in ourselves, who is going to?” Acatl’s student, an enthusiastic warrior who yearns to prove himself worthy of his power and noble rank, as well as live up to the memory of the mother who died birthing him. During Servant of the Underworld he swears himself to Chalchiuhtlicue, goddess of fresh water and lakes, gaining (among other things) command over the man-eating water monsters called ahuitzotls. He is courting Mihmatini during Harbinger of the Storm; by the time Master of the House of Darts takes place, they are married. He is abrasive and proud, but also honest, loyal, and brave. And very, very ambitious. You will want to punch him several times. This is normal. (Also, I will swear that it's not just my ship-goggles being on too tight that has me thinking his relationship with Acatl is much more weighty and personal than the one he has with his ACTUAL WIFE.)

MIHMATINI “Better laugh, and smile at the flowers and jade. Life is too short to be spent grieving.” Acatl and Neutemoc’s youngest sister, a powerful magic-user who finds herself thrust into the position of Guardian during Harbinger of the Storm. Though she has no great ambitions herself—she mostly just wants to be a mother and raise children—she is ferociously protective of her family and will fight anything that threatens them. Even themselves. (Especially themselves.) Kind, caring, and light-hearted, but her acid tongue and sharp temper are not to be dismissed. "Fuck Around And Find Out" given human form.

ACAMAPICHTLI “We have always endured.” High priest of Tlaloc and a reoccurring thorn in Acatl’s side. Though he’s primarily out for his own gain and has no patience for Acatl’s refusal to play on the field of Imperial politics, they eventually form something like an uneasy truce following the end of Harbinger of the Storm. He is snarky and sardonic, but truly cares for his clergy. During Master of the House of Darts he somehow became one of my favorite characters.

TIZOC "I've always known that priests couldn't be trusted. You have just exceeded my expectations." Teomitl’s older brother, first Master of the House of Darts and then Revered Speaker. (Look, it’s not a spoiler if you can Google it.) He is cowardly, ambitious, and the closest thing this series has to an overarching antagonist. Among other things, tries to have Acatl executed during Harbinger of the Storm. Events at the end of that book only manage to make him measurably worse. "Ah There He Is, That Motherfucker, What A Tool" #1.

QUENAMI “Oh, Acatl. Such lack of tact. You are so unsuited for the Court.” High Priest of Huitzilpochtli, appointed by Tizoc between Servant of the Underworld and Harbinger of the Storm. Comes from a noble family, and is much better at diplomacy and playing politics than he is at magic. When push comes to shove, however, he can display some surprising determination. He is arrogant, scheming, and takes joy in cutting Acatl down, but presumably has some good qualities...somewhere. "Ah There He Is, That Motherfucker, What A Tool" #2.

Maps of the series’ primary setting

Setting Primers

Official Character Index

Glossary

[everythinggeeky]

Here With Me | Obi-Wan Kenobi

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Jedi! reader

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, breaking the Jedi code is vv tempting

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Reader and Obi-Wan are assigned a mission together, and reader’s methods to interrogation are...untraditional. Despite her outlandish tendencies, Obi-Wan and the Council allow her to continue. Will her unconventional methods get her in trouble with the Council and with Obi-Wan?

masterlist

A/N: requests & taglists are open; I wrote this in a few hours so excuse any disjointedness!

You placed your saber on the table, glaring down into the eyes of Goru, the accused separatist pirate, who is seated and restrained in front of you. 

“I’m gonna give you one last chance to speak up. You don’t say anything, I use this. You speak up? The saber stays there. So what’s it going to be? My way, or your way?” You said, hands firm on your hips, leaning over the table just enough to seem menacing from his seated position.

Your prisoner glanced up at you, the saber, Obi-Wan in the corner, back to the saber, and up to you. 

He spits a glossy blob in front of you, just missing your saber by an inch. Obi-Wan stiffens in his position, he knows there are no holds barred with you, and you won’t hesitate to punish the prisoner for his current actions.

“Alright. So that’s how we’re gonna do this” you picked up your saber, igniting the blade.

“Y/N,” Obi-Wan spoke up from the corner.

You looked over to him, a contemptuous look on his face, urging you to back down. With a long gaze back at him, you consider your options. Let him go and risk another murderous rampage, or kill him and violate the Jedi code. Disengaging the blade of your saber, you place the hilt back into its position on your belt. 

You walk away from the table and nod to Obi-Wan, “let’s take this guy in. I’m not done with him yet.”

Obi-Wan signals the troopers to take the pirate away, taking him in for custody as ordered. You stand cross-armed, watching Goru stare you down and spit at your feet. Your face crumples in disgust before turning to Obi-Wan.

“Let’s get off this god forsaken planet. I have better things to do back home.”

“As you wish.” Obi-Wan leads you out of the interrogation cell and back onto the ship.

You walked up the ramp and slumped into the seat in the front of the ship, Obi-Wan taking his seat beside you.

“If you’re going to lecture me, now would be the time,” you mumbled into your palm which was pressed against your cheek.

“I’m not going to lecture you. Do I agree with your interrogation methods? Absolutely not. When we get back, we’ll talk it over with the Council. They’ll decide how to proceed.”

You grumbled, setting the ship’s course for Coruscant, refusing to look at Obi-Wan.

“Y/N, please. Give me something. We can relax now.”

“I’m still working, Obi. Not now.” 

He sighed deeply, sinking back into his seat. The remainder of the trip was silent, soft breaths and the occasional beep from the control panel filled the air where soft, romantic words normally would after a mission. After landing on Coruscant, you stood to leave the ship without another word. Obi-Wan stood, catching your arm in his grip, pulling you to a stop.

“Y/N. Please don’t shut me out. This is still progress.”

“And you still don’t approve of how I do business.”

“Is it untraditional? Yes. Effective? Unfortunately, often,” he said, releasing you, “the Council will figure this out. Please put some trust in them and in me.”

“Not after last time.”

Surrendering, he walked off the ship in front of you, heading into the temple. You watched sadly as he walked on; had you pushed too far? Softening your demeanor, you exited the ship and followed Obi-Wan.

“Master Kenobi,” you called out to him, he stopped in his tracks, turning to you a few paces ahead.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? Doing your job? What you were assigned to do?”

“Master...you and I both know that’s not it. My methods do not usually obey the Jedi code.”

“And did you do anything today that would violate it? No. Do not stress about it.”

You nodded, looking up at the man who ranks above you in training but walks beside you in your much more private relationship. 

His face softened equally, “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t. I need you here with me, alright?”

Confirming your promise, you walked side by side with him into the Council meeting room. Standing tall and professional, you pulled your robe tighter around your body. Taking your seat in the Council meeting, you crossed one leg over the other. Master Windu opened the meeting, discussing past business before shifting into the present manner. During his discussion, you could help but doze off. You were terribly exhausted and were desperate to be in the hands of your fellow Jedi master once again. Your mind traveled a bit, to which Obi-Wan seemed to notice, pushing a thought into your mind. You snapped up, peeking over to him. Without a word, he raised an eyebrow and stroked his beard nonchalantly. Narrowing your eyes, you returned your focus to Master Windu, who was now focused on questioning your methods.

“Did you use the approach that we agreed on prior to departure? Was it successful?”

“After arriving on the scene, Master Kenobi and I decided that the Council’s methods would not be successful in the circumstances that we arrived at.”

“With respect, Master Windu, Master Y/L/N acted with restraint. Her methods were successful and the suspect in custody,” Obi-Wan spoke up in defense.

“Very well. With the guidance of Master Kenobi, we will allow the negotiations to continue. Be wary.”

“Yes, Master.”

“I think that settles things for tonight. Consider your methods for the following interrogations. Master Kenobi, Master Y/L/N, proceed as planned. Dismissed.” 

The Council members stood from their seats, each going their separate ways. You slipped into the hallway, standing by for Obi-Wan. As the Council members filed out of the session, you greeted them politely, Obi-Wan stopping next to you, keeping his own professional stance. 

“So it seems the Council is willing to be forgiving. This is the best we can hope for.”

“I suppose. You know how I feel about giving into law and order.”

“Y/N.”

“Yes, Obi?”

“Its the code.”

“Fuck the code, Obi.”

“Maker…” he mutters, shifting uncomfortably at your outburst.

“I’m tired. And I really need to get some rest, alright?”

“Of course. Would you like…?” he trails off.

“Please,” you invited him to come along with you, walking back with a professional distance between you both. 

On your way to your quarters, Anakin turned the corner.

“Master Kenobi, Y/L/N,” he greeted politely.

You both stopped in your tracks, glancing at one another before back at Anakin. He bounced back and forth between you both, a questioning look on his face.

“Settling down for the evening?” he prodded.

“Oh, well, we have some business to settle before our interrogations continue later this week,” Obi-Wan covered.

You nodded in agreement, pushing down the growing blush threatening to paint your cheeks.

“Of course. Well, enjoy your...interrogations,” Anakin said with a smirk directed towards Obi-Wan before continuing on his way.

You continued down the hall, trying to get to your quarters as quickly and as professionally as possible. Entering your quarters felt as though a fifty-pound weight was lifted from your back. Obi-Wan sighed heavily, becoming more comfortable himself. You shrugged your Jedi robes off your body, opting for a much more comfortable nightgown. Obi-Wan stripped down to his trousers, settling into bed under the covers.

“Come here, darling,” Obi-Wan stretched his arms out to you.

You climbed up into bed, settling down beside him, resting your head on his chest.

“I’m sorry for acting out. I don’t like it when the Council tries to control how I work. I know what I’m doing.”

“I know, tomorrow is a new day, I’m sure we’ll understand the workings of the gang’s plot in the Outer Rim soon enough,” Obi-Wan threaded his fingers through your hair, stroking slowly to calm you down from your stressful day, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Obi,” you mumbled sleepily into his bare chest. 

As you relax in his embrace, you being to drift asleep. Obi-Wan presses a soft kiss into your forehead, bidding you goodnight. Falling asleep, Obi-Wan keeps you tight to his body.

The next morning, you grumble as you wake up, heading to clean up and get dressed. Obi-Wan follows suit, getting dressed for the day and then opting to prepare breakfast for you both. As you walked out to the dinette, you slinked your arms around his waist, leaving a kiss behind on his shoulder.

“Morning...thank you for cooking.”

“Of course, darling. Did you sleep enough?”

“I mean..I could always use more. But I’ll be alright.,” you grinned accepting the plate from his hands.

These quiet moments of solace kept you sane. One moment, the Council demanded your complete attention, the next you were training a rowdy padawan. Some peace and quiet hidden away with Obi-Wan in your quarters was hard to come by, but when it did, it was oh so sweet and you never wanted to let go.

“So. The Council wants us to re-interview Goru, the captured pirate from yesterday,” Obi-Wan spoke up to set today’s agenda on straight.

“Got it. Maybe I’ll consider following their suggestions. If no one decides to spit on me today.”

Obi-Wan let out a low chuckle, finishing his breakfast and cleaning up afterward. You both fluttered around your quarters, strapping on belts and centering lightsabers in their respective clips.

“Well, let’s get this shit over with,” you grumbled, making your way into the hallway first.

While signaling to Obi-Wan that the coast was clear, Anakin rounded the corner just as Obi-Wan stepped out of your room. With a knowing expression, Anakin looked to him for an explanation. There was none.

“Anakin. What are you up to today? At this hour?” Obi-Wan asked him.

“Master Windu informed me that I’ll be accompanying you both for the interrogations. He believed my methods would be much better suited to Y/N’s. You are still to supervise and monitor, Master,” Anakin responded.

“I see,” you looked nervously over to Obi-Wan who was now to serve as another body to witness to the Council.

The three of you made your way into the interrogation chambers in the temple. You walked inside while Obi-Wan and Anakin stayed behind to ensure nothing went wrong.

“Hey there, old friend. Long time, no see. Miss me?”

“Not at all,” your captive spat.

“Fair enough. Now, my offer still stands. Work with me and you won’t get a blade through your eye; fail, and well, bye-bye.”

“Y/N…” Obi-Wan warned.

You dismissed him with a wave of your hand, instead choosing to focus on the matter at hand. Working to pull the intel from him, you put the pressure on.

“Are you or are you not working with the Ohnaka gang??” you shouted into the face of your captive.

Anakin looked over to Obi-Wan with hushed concern, “Is this about Dooku?”

“The Council believes that he is operating in the Outer Rim with the help of Hondo. Keep it down.”

Anakin returns to his original position standing guard.

“I’ll never give up Hondo, you Jedi scum.”

“Cute. Real creative,” you paced around the pirate seated in front of you.

Withdrawing your saber from your belt, igniting the blade, you extended your arm to crackle just beside Goru’s face.

“I’ll ask again nicely, how are you working with Hondo?” you inched the blade closer to his flesh, threatening to singe a precise line.

Obi-Wan inhaled deeply, silently urging you to proceed with caution. These were dangerous men, after all. However, with one wrong move, your decision could be fateful and in violation of the very oath that you swore to protect others with the Force, not use it to slaughter and mar. 

Pushing on, the blade of your lightsaber now ever so slightly damaging flesh, causing your captive to groan slightly.

“Hondo is negotiating with Dooku! Dooku is using the good we pocket to fund the separatist army!” Goru surrendered. 

Satisfied, you pulled your saber away from his neck, returning it to your belt. 

Walking around the table to face him again, “now was that really so bad?”

Goru threatened to spit at you once again like he did yesterday, but was quickly stopped by Obi-Wan and Anakin entering the scene.

“Aw, c’mon boys, I was just getting started,” you whined with mock disappointment.

“Goru, we’ll lead you back to your cell. The Council will decide your fate from here,” Obi-Wan chimed in.

With the help of Anakin, he led Goru down the hall back to his cell before returning to you solo. 

“Y/N.”

You shook your empty gaze from your eyes, “yes?”

“What did I say about physical threats?”

“Keep it to a minimum,” you mocked.

“Exactly. That was unnecessary.”

“I believe that was a minimum.”

“This is why they call me the negotiator. We’ll discuss our findings with the Council, and then proceed as they wish.”

“Do you ever feel like a soldier more than a guardian?” you interrupted.

“What? Well, I mean, it’s all for the efforts of war, protecting and guarding the peace.”

“But for what? How do we even know we’re on the right side of this war? What if we have it all wrong?”

“Y/N,” Obi-Wan looks around him before continuing, “darling, where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know. I know what I do is for the good of the Republic, but what if they got it wrong and I’m just completing tasks and orders?”

“There is so much more to Jedi master than that. You will find that soon. The hope in a padawan’s eyes when they discover the gift of truly utilizing the Force…” Obi-Wan reaches to rub your back in soft comforting circles.

“I want to be more than a soldier.”

“You are so much more. To the Council, the Republic, and to me.”

tagged: @kenobee​ @hxldmxdxwn​ @smokahuntis​ @jbarnesss​ @takenbymyfandoms​ @obiwkenobi​ @ilovesupersoldiers​

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 88

Sophia, the day after her conversation with Tyche.

Thank you to @satan-parisienne and @baelpenrose for keeping me going and on an even keel! Sorry the Author’s Note is so short... I didn’t realize until I had about 10 mins before I had to be back at work that I forgot to queue this for today *facepalm*

The next day was an entire education on new places I could be sore. A hot shower and analgesics only took the barest edge off, and I ended up needing a transport to get to my office instead of my routine walk. I did my best to ignore the grin on Conor’s face every time I moved too fast and winced.  After the third time I scowled at him, I brought up my datapad and did some research, careful not to tap my legs as I gestured, which had become something of a habit.

 “That snot,” I gasped. Conor glanced at me, so I clarified. “Tyche had me doing fencing footwork yesterday…. Intermediate footwork, it turns out. No wonder I’m so sore.”

 “Least it wasn’t sparring,” he pointed out cheerfully, gently lifting my chin to get a look at my lip.  “You should have let Noah heal that, love.”

 I brushed my cheek against his hand. “I want the reminder. May even let her do it again once it heals.”

 This time, it was his turn to scowl. “Not funny.  That face has been bruised enough for one lifetime.” He gently rubbed my cheek as the transport stopped. “Okay, time to go be the boss.  No fighting with the other kids.”  Despite the joking tone, his eyes were serious as he leaned in to kiss me before he headed to his shift.

 I realized that Alistair not only beat me to work, but could apparently hear me groaning as I tried to walk, because the door opened before I was even within three feet of it.  True to form, he gave me an appraising look before his expression settled on my face. “Door get a bit mouthy today? Or did your feet decide you needed to stay home?”

 “Tyche punched me, actually.” My tone was light as I inched my way to my desk. “For defending myself. And then she decided I need more ways to defend myself, so now I can hardly move.”

 “Solid logic,” he deadpanned as he handed me a cup of coffee. “I feel obliged to point out that the coffee is hot, seeing as you display a disturbing propensity to get hurt.”

 “Very funny.”

 “You have been warned, et cetera, so on, so forth.” He waved a hand nonchalantly as he turned, bringing up my agenda for the day. “Your first meeting is the one to discuss medical testing ethics, criteria for volunteers, and determination of the necessity of the procedures. Then you have time set aside to review the status of the Galactic Core Curriculum, along with proposals for expanded learning topics and their existing analogues in the education systems of other planets - “ He paused and tilted his head. “I will never cease to be caught off guard when sentences like that exist.”

 I restrained the urge to nod - or more accurately, my back twinged with a warning not to even consider it. “Believe me, I understand. Noah and I were talking about other species a few weeks ago. Did you know there is a species of avians out there who essentially live on a planet with no surface atmosphere?”

 “The Preeyar, yes,” he sighed wistfully. “Knowing that Fermi was simply impatient has been quite eye-opening, so to speak.”

“Well, he wasn’t wrong,” I conceded. “We were too young for extraterrestrial civilizations, we weren’t listening properly, they apparently weren’t trying to contact us until recently…  But they do exist.” A smile crept on my face at the idea that we really hadn’t been alone in the universe.

My office door opened without warning, and a familiar voice chimed in as Alistair turned with clenched fists. “I do argue that we are entirely too dangerous to have been contacted.” Arthur Farro stood leaning against the frame, and Alistair relaxed marginally. “At least we were until relatively recently…. Throwing nuclear ordinance at each other the moment killing each other in the thousands - rather than the millions - stopped scratching that vicious itch. Who does that?  We’re like demented eight-year-olds who got bored of burning ants and started setting each other’s hair on fire instead.”

“You really should keep that door secured,” my assistant sniffed as he closed out my agenda, right around the time he caught Arthur squinting at it.

“He has the code,” I admitted.

“Or maybe that was accidental,” our resident history teacher continued, ignoring us. “I’m a big fan of assuming stupidity instead of malice where possible.  And, dear lord, does our track record make it plausible.”  Finally entering the room, he flicked a finger at my face. “That was not, however.”

Before I could stop him, Alistair took one glance between me and my friend, and strode to the door. “No.”

“Alistair…”

“I’ll clear your calendar. No. Have a good day.”

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Arthur asked as the door closed behind my soon-to-be-ex assistant.

“That he’s a coward,” I muttered.

“You know damned well that’s not what I mean.”

“Tyche already decked me.” I gestured at my split lip and the bruise that bloomed on my chin overnight. “So, yeah, I know - “

“No, you really don’t seem to.”

“Arthur, stop.”

“I will not.” He stepped forward and placed both his hands, palms down, on my desk.  He knew I hated that gesture. “Bjornson’s entire narrative hinges on you being more dangerous than anyone realizes, and you putting up a display of false helplessness to make everyone trust you.  By decking one of his followers, not only did you show that you do, in fact, have violence in you - meaning that it’s now entirely plausible you’re as Machiavellian as they claim - but you’ve also gone and indicated for whatever reason that Jokull is enough of a threat to drop that premise.” Straightening, he crossed his arms in clear disappointment. “If you wanted to give him more credibility, good job. You succeeded.”

I swallowed every bit of hurt I felt at his words, reminding myself they were nowhere near as barbed as the ones Tyche had given me the day before. Instead, I tilted my head and arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you done? Did you say everything you needed to say?” I paused, giving him a chance to respond. When he didn’t, I poked harder. “Feel better?”

“Not particularly, but big picture? I’m not a terribly gleeful person, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. But yes, it is your turn now.”

“Gracious of you,” I cooed sarcastically.  “Tyche made the same points yesterday, after punching me in the face, with the added gravitas of a guilt trip served with that special seasoning of having watched me almost die and thinking I abandoned her as a child. Also three hours with a rapier, whipping my ass. So. Far more impressive, I assure you.”

“Foiled again by the smaller Reid,” he sighed dramatically before catching himself.  “Rapier, you say? I was going to say no pun intended, but I’ve decided I did that on purpose. Yep. Totally intentional.”

I rolled my eyes before pulling up my tunic to show the bruises on my midriff. “I’m not very good at it, for the record.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, saber’s a better style anyway.  And I’m not just saying that because it’s my favorite.”

“Uh huh,” I nodded, not entirely convinced. “As far as Bjornson… seriously. She gave me the scoop.  I seriously fubared the entire situation yesterday.  Apparently, our suspected cult leader only believes in physical attacks on those who would defend themselves. No honor in beating a beaten foe, et cetera.”

“Mmm hmmm,” he nodded, like I was a student he was letting reach her own conclusion.

“Which means I just made it open season on Sophias,” I groaned.

“Really, saber is much better for brawling tactics,” he hedged.

I laughed bitterly. “Doesn’t matter.  My walking privileges are revoked until further notice. Must be accompanied by one of six people, or two out of another ten, and on a transport.” The last word came out like a profanity.  It was a known fact I hated using them.

Hence why I was now being forced to, unfortunately.

“If you think there is any possibility that I’m going to argue against Tyche on that decision, I need to talk to her about that head scan,” he told me pointedly. “Then again, you and I have different definitions of the word ‘think’, but I’ll be clear - it’s not happening.  Moving target, faster than a walking pace, with a protective attachment? Which roster am I on, again?”

“Very funny. You already know.”

His expression softened slightly when he realized I was actually upset. “There is some good news in all of this.”

I threw up my hands and spun in my chair. “Oh, do tell, great military historian and warlord. What is the shining silver lining to the fact that I just gave a man who thinks I am the only thing standing between him and his New Start a golden ticket to sic his followers on me?”

“Okay, first off, sassy shit, my main career is a school teacher. I only moonlighted as a warlord to pay those apocalypse bills. Not my fault I was good at it.” Suddenly, he got serious. “The good new is, if he was too stupid to realize that your talent for inspiring loyalty meant you were a massive problem for any takeover plan, and a problem he’d have to deal with sooner or later….. Well, he’s probably too stupid to keep his little cult together much longer.  Leaders who don’t recognize more than one kind of strength never manage to build a lasting legacy.”

“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings: Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair…” I said, half to myself.

“Yeah, our guy is no Ramses II,” Arthur replied.  “Besides, those who seek power are rarely good at keeping it.”

“I would have given him my seat on the Council if he’d just asked,” I admitted.

“Besides the fact that you literally just proved my point, if he was suited to the Council, he’d be on it.  It’s not like you were the only candidate.”

I shrugged. “No idea. I didn’t even know I was on the Council for the first week. I think it was a week.”

When I turned to look at him, I was met with a flat stare. “I know it was explained to you at some point.  How does that search function work?” He reached forward like he was going to tap my head before I swatted his hand away. “You were appointed to the Council to replace Simon, you represent a specific population on board the Ark, when we arrive at Von, you will serve an additional two planetary standard years before elections are held, of which you cannot be a candidate….”

Ugh. “I was put forward as a recommendation by Simon. The other Councillors put forward their candidates. The population I represent voted based on my personnel file, since no one even knew any of the candidates at that point. We’d only been on the Ark about six months. Some of us, anyway.” Glaring, I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don’t know how you figured that out, but I have a feeling I’m going to kill someone.”

He waved a hand at me in a very familiar gesture. “I see other people do it all the time. Jog your memory, and some phrase or word triggers it.  Cool to watch, though.” With a shrug, he continued. “Point is, Bjornson wasn’t even a candidate, same as me.”

“How do you know that?” I asked incredulously.

“Fuck, Sophia. You really need to keep track of your constituents.”

“Hey, I didn’t even want to be a - Wait. You are one of my so-called ‘constituents’!?”

“Even voted for you,” he grinned.  “Didn’t know it was you-you, but… Communications background, peaceful but intelligent attributes to balance out our resident warhawk, fair enough to offset Huynh, and you seemed like the type to actually listen to Grey, Pranav, and Eino.” He shrugged. “To be fair, I was right.”

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[kurtty-drabbles]

Pirate au Redone (part 3)

N/A: Ideas will be used here. I think. Kitty will pirate? Yes, and Maddy will show up as well. Going to be honest. I don´t think we need to see the talk between Emma and Kitty and I want to write this idea before it pops out of my mind.

@dannybagpipesarecalling @djinmer4 @bamfoftheundead @everykurt @muninandhugin

After a long discussion both Jean and Scott menage to council their differences and as Jean proclaims to a more relaxed Scott, they´ll try anew and this time no more Pheonix or Avengers or anything to come between them. And, Scott, still has his reservations about Krakoa - and Scott is one of the few people that seem to notice Kurt´s demeanor over a couple of days and is one of the few who confide with him about Krakoa- can at least, if nothing else, give the benefit of the doubt to the island.

Where are you, Rachel?

This thought lingers in his mind and took some time out of Scott´s initial agenda-not that he cares too much about it, but, he doesn´t like to be idle and Rachel is a grown-up woman and may want some time alone to figure out things...considering her sexuality and who she dated, Scott can safely say Rachel wants an alone time now- and once the man is fed up in pretending to do whatever chores he was supposed to do. Scott Summers leave his room.

Krakoa is a beauty as if your definition of beauty comes with vines, exotic plants-so exotic that Scott can sweat they don´t exist- and an oppressive tone of green. Paradise is another form of prison? Lucifer certainly thought so.

His thoughts on religion are skeevy at best - again, Scott does not care, and if Kurt Wagner shares some of this belief with him. Why he would feel ashamed?- and his thoughts on religion take an ironic twist when Scott halt and looks at the person in front of him and his teeth grith so tight he could swear he´ll break his teeth or jaws.

"Why are you doing here?" Scott asked directly to Mr.Sinister who is smiling all too pleasant. The man still has the same fashion sense and still have this smirk on his face.

"Ah, Scott...you thought you wouldn´t see me again? I was the closest thing of a father in your life...and when I heard you and Miss Jean Grey are trying again...It fuels my heart with joy...do you remember?" he asked with that creepy smile of his, showing more teeth than a human should, then again, is Mr.Sinister human? "do you remember those fun times in the orphanage? You cried but didn´t beg...and you even won in the end...it only proofs that I was right all the time" and Scott´s breath accelerate and he didn´t think twice before taking his visor and blast Mr.Sinister away.

However, the vines creepily climb on the floor and wrapped tightly around his legs and yank on the floor and the impact somehow makes the lasers stop-Scott closes his eyes and it took a minute for him to reconize the sensation and not enter in dispair believing his sight is gone- and his body is unable of moving.

"Scott Summers, you broke the law" the voice that belongs to Prof X answers, yet, Scott notices something off on his voice. "The punishment must be severe...especially as you´re one of my favorites" and Scott almost laughs at this.

Then I don´t want to know what you would do if I wasn´t the favorite.

If Prof X is ready to throw Scott in the dungeons or do something else, well, all Scott can do is gulp and not cry. But, someone intervenes. No, more than someone as he can still hear their voices.

"Prof...this is unfair...why you would punish Scott for wanting to be away from this creepy?" Jean shouts angrily and Scott can see, mentally of course, how her face must be twisted in anger-there´s a difference in an angry Jean and an angry Pheonix and Scott knows this very well- and Jean continues while Storm is helping Scott to stand on his feet.

"Can you open your eyes, Scott?" Storm asked in concern and Scott shakes his head. Nothing else needs to be said. Storm puts his visor back and asks again as Scott opens his eyes slowly.

Jean is not done. "How can you ask for a nazi scientist to be here? I thought this island was supposed to be a paradise for us...not for nazis scum" Jean shouts vexing and for a moment everyone gathers around thinking she would go Pheonix...

She gave up the Pheonix ...there´s no trace of the bird on her.

Prof X smiles and is not soothing in the slightest. "I believe everyone deserves a chance and it wasn´t thanks to Mr.Sinister´s machinations that Cable, your once beloved son or so you once claimed, came to be?" Prof X only walks ignoring Jean Grey as he concludes his thoughts in one final line. "Plus, you would are the one to give everyone a chance...everyone but your own daughter" and then Jean falls from the sky screaming in agony.

Scott goes to her and tries to use his power on Prof X to make him stop- Scott recalls that he did murder Prof X thanks to the Power of Pheonix and hopes he can kill the man again-yet, his power doesn´t work on the man who only shakes his head at this.

Storm tried to use her powers as well-summon a powerful lightning bolt to burn the man in one attack- yet, her powers are useless against Prof X, and Storm is knockdown.

"What a pity...but you two always disappointed me"

And the fates of Scott Summers and Jean Grey are sealed. There´s no more Mr.Sinister as Prof X leaves.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Logan is on the beach and is smoking one of his best cigars and is more than happy to see Jean Grey, and to his increased libido and satisfaction she´s wearing a bikini and no Scott Summers- and Logan knows this is meant to be. Knows this is all about making more babies and Logan promises to buy the best beer he can think to thank Kurt for such law- and the man is as seductive as his entire being can. "Jeanie. Fancy a swin?"

Jean shakes her head and holds him. Oh, Logan knew this would happen and smirks thinking he finally beat Slim. Finally, and even mention this out loud. "You finally going to be with a real man" and goes for a kiss.

The kiss is as passionate as his imagination provides, yet, she steps away and speaks in a soothing tone. "Oh, Logan...I never liked you but I thought you were smart than that" and her eyes are burning just like her hair. "You´ll know what is death and the most painfully one..." and Jean is no longer Jean...and Logan is no more.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

A cargo ship is traveling in the pacific ocean and the captain is giving the orders to make sure their precious containment is in order- mutants kids from non-develop countries and many labs and governments would pay anything to put their hands on those kids- and the captain is even dreaming with the huge sums of money he´ll gain thanks to those kids. And damn, he can even view himself in a large mansion.

"Captain...there´s a strange ship...yatch coming to our way" one of his first mates points to the said yacht and the captain rolls his eyes and order to fire at them-he has better things to worry than worry about stupid people- however when one of the crews of the yacht shots a fireball large enough to damage the ship and the other froze the ship preventing it from leaving...it proves how it in deep waters the captain is now.

A woman flies to the deck. The woman has a red vest and one sword. The men didn´t take long to shoot at her, yet, it was futile. "AHH GHOST!" one of them said and the woman smirks evilly.

"Yep, I´m a ghost and I´m a very pissed ghost" and she runs through them using her sword as if it was another limb attached to her body. The rest of the crew surrender and the children were rescued.

"Emma?" Kitty calls not wanting the damn woman in her mind. "The kids are safe...not alright after what they witness, but, alive...we´re taking them to a secure place"

"I trust in your judgment, Kate!"

"Stop calling me like that, Frost"

One of the kids looks at the woman wearing red and asks one of the mutants who is she. And Bobby follows their sight and smiles. "Well, that´s Captain Pryde" and the kids look in awe at the Captain who notices their smiles and makes a One Piece reference.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Betsy Braddock is not easily frightened and maybe this can make people have the wrong view about her. And maybe, Betsy used to like those wrong ideas people had over her- the fearsome woman who laughs in Death´s face- and Elisabeth´s smile can´t reach her eyes anymore nor be anything but an obvious fake. No pleasantries are enough to dissolve the situation between herself and... "Kwannon" Betsy exclaims noticing how their outfits have different color paletas.

Kwannon. The Japanese Psylocke as some used to call-Oh, Betsy knows what people used to call Kwannon´s body and know what they used to call Betsy´s mind as well- and the Japanese woman is putting one foot in front of the other...the motion would be almost funny, if it wasn´t painfully clear she´s not used to her own body.

"Betsy..." her tone is dry as her eyes are fixated on Betsy. "I want to talk with you, but...thinking back and seeing you now. I need you to shut up and listen..." she exhales and continues. "I don´t blame you for what happened to me..." she closes her eyes and touches her hand. "I´d blame you for how you treat my name and my own body. You wear little and suddenly your blade talks and demands blood...I´m not like that and I don´t like that now you´re a white woman...abruptly your blade doesn´t scream blood anymore and you don´t longer dress like a slut..." she completes having a neutral expression on her face.

Betsy can´t ignore her actions. "I thought in assume another identity for myself" is a good explanation for Betsy not for Kwannon.

"White woman. Do you know anything about me? I´m a ninja not because it was cool or sexy, but, because I had no option. I have no last name...I´m a Burakumin, yeah judge by your look you had no idea what this means" her tone is derisive as she continues. "I was an outcast in my own country. The Yakuza one day, saw my abilities and offer me a job...and that job became my life"

"I didn´t know..." Betsy speaks with a heavy tone. "I was..."

"Having fun in wearing my body as a sex toy? Yeah...I know" and Kwannon uses her kinetic blade- Kwannon is not sure if she wants to fight Betsy or to simply see if she still has her powers- and if a brawl was to happen, well, it won´t be now as Emma Frost shows up along with Kitty Pryde.

"Ladies...this is not time to catfight...we better things to do" Emma Frost replied in a regal way as always and Kitty rolls her eyes at such display but speaks again.

"I think we all agree Krakoa is bad"

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Scott and Jean are back to their cabin in the woods-money is not exactly an issue for Jean Grey as she died and resurrected so many times to the point the agency thinks she´s a meme now- and Jean is laid down on the canape still feeling pain. "I´m fine...no, I´m not...but I´ll be...Scott, when Prof X´s power increase like that?"

Scott has no answers. And someone knocks the door and Scott goes to answer and sees Madeline Pryor smiling at him. "Are you real or an illusion?" Scott asks and Madeline nods sagely and slaps his face with a grin.

"Still doubt am I not real?"

"No, is you!"

"I´m not here to fight...I´m here to talk and as much I hate to say this...I need the help of Jean Grey"

[bellatrixobsessed1]

The Art Of Remembrance (Part 24)

This boat ride is significantly more pleasant than the trip to the island. This time she is unbound and free to roam the ship as she pleases. She thinks that this might possibly be the first pleasant experience that she has had on a boat. For the time being, she is the only one awake. Supposedly, firebenders are early to rise, but the sun hasn’t yet risen. She hopes that Sokka won’t be too disappointed to find himself alone in the room. It had simply become too stuffy in there for her; Azula has come to decide that she doesn’t have a particular love for cramped spaces. Looking out at the open ocean, she decides that she isn’t very fond of vast spaces either. The lapping waves remind her too much of the rolling hills of snow but with white traded for blue.

She has to admit, for as nerve wracking as it is, it is pretty. The reflection of the deep indigo of early morning. A tinge of sunlight gold, puts a glimmer in the water. If the boat weren’t rocking so heavily, Azula would lean against the rail and peer into the depths.

In her head she runs over a list of tasks to be done, though there isn’t much that she can complete when confined to a boat in the middle of the ocean. She has already told Zuko of the organization and--just in case it hadn’t been brought up in Yu-Kang’s promised council meeting, Sokka has informed him of Jeong Jeong’s fate. Azula has also declared that they should have a second meeting to discuss the Vine Research Facility and their possible whereabouts.

Today’s agenda will mostly consist of laying down a full and sturdy plan, she has the basic makings of one already, but she should like to fine tune them. Ideally the Fire Nation’s military will scope out the tundra for the facility and storm it. They will collect research notes and she will use them to make her mind whole again.

“So...are we going to tell Zuko about, you know…?”

Azula jolts. Telling Zuko about how close she had let herself grow to Sokka is most certainly not on her list of tasks. “Why should we?” She isn’t sure that it is anything noteworthy enough to share at all. One small and rather impulsive peck on the cheek isn’t much to fuss over.

“I don’t know, because he’s your brother.”

“Yes, exactly.” Azula replies. “There isn’t much to tell anyhow.” Deciding that she has someone to keep the boat from pitching her overboard, she leans back against the railing.

“I’d want to know if my sister was kissing someone!”

Azula rolls her eyes. “So you can what, wave your boomerang in their face?”

“That’s right!” He declares boldly. He is spirited, she’ll give him that.

“It was one small kiss, Sokka.” She shrugs. She isn’t sure if it could even be called a kiss. “It isn’t anything noteworthy. Now quiet down and watch with me.” She turns around to face the sunrise and pats the rail next to her.

Sokka sighs audibly and comes to stand next to her, dangling his arms over the banister. She notices that he has taken the time to trim and sculpt his formerly scraggly beard. He smells like the ocean spray.

.oOo.

All in all, the princess looks rather happy. At the very least, she looks tranquil. The gold of the rising sun gives her face a certain radiance. She hasn’t yet combed her hair nor put on her makeup. He still isn’t used to seeing her anything less than perfectly groomed.

“It isn’t anything noteworthy at all?” He quirks a brow.

Deep down, he hopes that she will ask him if he wants it to be. Instead she, almost too cheerfully, replies, “nope, not particularly.” Somehow, he is also relieved. Simple. It is much simpler this way.

He tells himself that he still loves Suki. That when he gets a chance, he will try to rekindle things with her. That he will assure her that they can make time for each other no matter how much effort it takes.

“Are you alright?” Azula asks.

“Just thinking.” He replies.

“About?”

“Just...what I’m going to do when this is all over.”

.oOo.

“Did they treat you well?” Zuko asks in between forkfuls of dumplings.

“Well enough.” Azula replies. All things considered, she had been kept rather comfortable. But then, her standards have lowered significantly as far as institutions go. “How are things at home?” She can’t quite bring herself to ask if the others have mentioned her at all.

“Hectic.” Zuko replies. “With Jeong Jeong and Chan dead and you going missing for so long, people are starting to get scared. The nobles anyways. I’ve got all of the imperial firebenders on full alert but that isn’t helping much.”

“I’m sure that they’ll feel better once we establish a solid plan. Rather, once you agree to my plan.”

“You already have a plan?” He asks. “I shouldn’t be surprised.” He adds with a laugh.

“Was I good at planning things?” “You were, like, a mastermind!” Sokka interrupts. “It was kind of your thing. And mine, I was the idea guy of my group too. So it was interesting trying to out plan you.”

“Failing to out plan me.” She corrects. “Anyhow, it’s isn’t a complete plan but it is a start. I know that I was held in the Southern Water Tribe and I was in a compound close enough to the village to survive a blizzard. Though, I presume that the Vine Research Facility has probably vacated it by now, unless they have assumed that I’d gotten myself killed.”

“So we might have surprise on our side?” Zuko inquires.

Azula nods, “perhaps, if they haven’t relocated. So we will have a team comb the tundra for the facility when the weather is stable enough. Dr. Yu-Kang mentioned a Lake Laogai, we will also search there. And we should try to find the place where they harvest their spirit vines from, they probably frequent the place.”

“The Foggy Swamp.” Sokka puts in. When she shoots him a questioning look he adds. “There’s this banyan tree and its roots, they do all kinds of crazy things. They can make you hallucinate and they can mess with your chi.”

“Well then we should probably send a team to the Foggy Swamp as well.” Azula declares. “With luck we can uncover their research notes; we can put a stop to whatever they plan on using their findings for and I can get my memories back.” She folds her hands atop the table. “It’s simple really.” Simple save for that she still isn’t sure that her memories will benefit her at all anymore. She tries not to dwell much on the possibility of scrambling her mind even further or erasing her new memories. And these memories are ones that she shouldn’t like to lose.  

“I think that, that sounds manageable.” Zuko replies.

“Good.” She nods. “I am hoping to get things in motion as soon as we get back.”

“You really want your memories back.” Sokka mutters.

“I really want to see that organization disassembled.” She clarifies. The sooner she can be rid of them, the sooner much of her anxiety will be alleviated. “I’d like to shut them down before they have another shot at me.”

She catches Zuko staring at the scars on her arms, his lips press into a thin line. “Yeah, I’d like to keep that from happening too.” She catches a twinge of fury in his soft golden eyes. “Trust me, they won’t have a second chance.”

She doesn’t doubt his sincerity. The sheer seething in his eyes when she’d first showed him the scars had been almost palpable. She very nearly covered them up again on the spot. Now he looks at her with pity. She doesn’t particularly like this, it makes her feel somehow helpless. “I’m fine.” She mutters. “You don’t need to look at me like that.”

He chuckles. “Sorry, I forgot that you don’t like that.”

Azula finishes her platter of dumplings and pushes it to the side. “Don’t worry about it.” She stands and pushes her chair in. “I’d like to get some sleep in before we begin tomorrow.” As she passes Sokka, she gives his hand a light tug.

“But I’m not done eating!”

She rolls her eyes, “you’re never done eating.”

“What do you need Sokka for?”

“I have trouble sleeping, sometimes Sokka stays in my room with me.” Though, lately, sometimes has become all the time.

“Fine.” He grumbles and pushes his dumplings aside.

She makes Sokka wait outside while she slips into her silk night robes. She gives a satisfied sigh as she smoothes her hands over the fabric. This fits her much better than the institution attire. It doesn’t drag and bury her in its excess cloth. She revels in its comforts for a moment longer before beckoning Sokka inside. She might just get some decent sleep tonight if she can ignore the rocking and undulating of the ship.

.oOo.

Once again, he watches the princess tuck herself in. He hopes that tonight will be nightmare free. Just maybe she is cozy enough to sleep through the night, she sure looks it. He arranges his pillows and blankets on the chair.

Azula’s brows knit. “Why are you all the way over there?”

“Your brother will kick my ass if he catches me in bed with you, clothes or no clothes.” He expects her to crinkle her nose, like she always does when he says something stupid, at the notion of them laying in bed with no clothes. But she doesn’t phased by it at all. She simply pats the spot next to her as she always does. “Alright, I’m coming.”

She gives a delighted little grin and makes room for him. It is becoming routine now, and he thinks that he also sleeps better with company. For the better part of the night they lay facing away from each other. Eventually he rolls to face her and later she shifts to face him.

And when she thinks that he is asleep, she slides her hand over his and intertwines their fingers.

[sydneysageivashkov]

hear those bells ring deep in your soul (1/2)

Lissa Dragomir should be happy with her life: she's gotten her place on the Council, her relationship is going well, spirit darkness isn't bothering her, and she's studying her dream degree. Instead, a girl with a purple and yellow aura is following her, insisting that there's a whole life Lissa doesn't remember.

Lissa seeks out answers, but answers have the potential to turn the entire Moroi world upside down, and with it, everything Lissa knows about her past.

ao3 | ff.net dragoway friendship, dragozera, sydrian, jeddie, romitri

Lissa struggled into a sitting position, her hand moving to check the back of her head. Warm blood was oozing from the crown of her head, wetting her fingers. She didn’t have time to focus on it, though – Sonya could heal her later.

If there was a later.

Rose struggled to her feet beside Lissa. Getting thrown against the wall had seen Rose worse for wear, and even Lissa could tell that she was flagging. Still, Rose planted herself in front of Lissa, bringing her fists up in front of her.

“You’re not going to hurt her,” snarled Rose.

“Hurt her?” said Victor, cocking his head. “Oh, no, my dear. I have no need to hurt her.”

Rose spat at him. There was blood colouring her spittle. “Bullshit. You want to be king, then you need to take out the queen.”

“Not quite,” said Victor. He nodded at Robert and said, “Everything is possible with spirit. Even a peaceful revolution.”

“Peaceful?” scoffed Rose. “Peaceful like using good people as your puppets?” Rose took her eyes off Victor, just for a moment, to glance desperately at Dimitri. He didn’t respond, his arms crossed as he started blankly across the room.

“Robert,” said Victor. “It’s time.”

“Rose,” said Lissa. She didn’t know what Victor was planning with Robert, but she knew it wasn’t good, and she couldn’t see them pulling off another miraculous escape: not with Dimitri compelled, Christian knocked out, and Eddie still on the other side of the country. She just wanted to see her best friend’s face one more time before it ended. “Rose, I love you.”

“Liss, I can’t -”

Lissa Dragomir woke up from her nightmare to her boyfriend hovering over her, staring down at her in worry. She blinked away the last of her sleep, his face sharpening in her vision. “Morning,” she whispered.

He learnt down and kissed her lazily, languidly, before pulling away. She made a face; he had morning breath. “Morning,” he echoed.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Just past seven,” he said. “You’ve got the Council meeting soon, remember?”

“Oh, god,” said Lissa, bolting out of bed. “I’m going to be late! You should have woken me sooner!”

Adrian’s laughter followed her out of the room.

-

Lissa arrived at the Council Chambers with exactly three minutes to spare. It wasn’t the entrance she had wanted to make to her first Council session, but at least she hadn’t been late. That would have been completely unacceptable.

“Vasilisa!” exclaimed Victor. She hurried over to him, smiling wide at her uncle. “I was starting to worry.”

“Adrian let me sleep in a little too long,” said Lissa, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. “I’m not too late, am I?”

“Of course not,” said Victor. “The only restriction is getting here before the doors close, and you’ve made that.”

“Good,” said Lissa, relieved. “I can’t believe I slept so late; I could barely sleep last night, I was so nervous about today.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about, my dear,” said Victor. “Trust me. You’ll do wonderfully.”

Lissa smiled. “Thank you, Uncle – or should I be calling you Your Majesty in here?”

“You’ll call me Your Majesty when the doors close,” said Victor. “But I think we can get away with it for the moment, hm?”

“If you say so, Uncle,” said Lissa. Behind them, the royal guardians closed the doors, Guardian Belikov ritually locking them. Lissa left Victor to take her seat under the Dragomir banner. The seats were more comfortable than she expected them to be, but she still couldn’t sit easy.

Are you out there, Father? she wondered. Are you proud of me?

She looked out at the gallery. Adrian was just taking his seat in the front row, and when he saw her looking, he shot her a thumbs up. She smothered her smile, looking down at the table. She focused on the smooth wood that the council table had been carved from, the way the lacquer gleamed under the lights, the dark spots in the wood – anything to keep Adrian from distracting her.

“I now call to order the latest Council session,” said Victor. He stood at the head of the table. Behind him was his throne, carved meticulously with the symbol of the Dashkov at its top, with the other royal families’ crests winding their way down the sides of the chair. “The first order of business is our newest member – Princess Dragomir?”

Lissa rose to her feet, willing herself not to fall or otherwise embarrass herself. Everybody was looking at her, but she ignored the eyes on her, looking steadily at Victor. “Your Majesty.”

“Do you swear to serve the Moroi people?” asked Victor.

“I do,” said Lissa steadily.

“Do you swear to uphold and defend our laws?”

“I do.”

Victor smiled. “Welcome to the Council, Princess.”

Lissa shrank back into her seat gratefully. Across the table, Ariana Szelsky smiled at her reassuringly. It could have gone worse, she thought.

It was a short meeting – Lissa’s induction and the return of the Dragomirs was the main agenda for the day. Lissa listened calmly through the rest of the meeting. She had studied most of the issues in the lead up to the family quorum being changed so she could hit the ground running when she finally joined the Council.

Afterwards, she ducked out of the palace before Adrian had a chance to find her. She loved her boyfriend, but his ideas of celebration were probably extravagant. Lissa didn’t want a party right now. She wanted to spend the time remembering her father and Andre, the ones who should have been seated at the Council table.

She cut across the lawns and hurried towards the gardens. The Court had a large set of gardens – fitting, for the royal residence. It was mostly quiet at this time of night, and she knew the quietest spots in it. She ducked under weeping willow’s curtain of leaves. It was her favourite place in the whole of Court, a little nest away from the eyes of everyone else. She was the Princess Dragomir, and the eyes followed her everywhere – but not here.

She stopped short. There was someone else under her willow. He looked up, pushing his black hair out of his eyes and narrowing them at her.

“Sorry,” said Lissa. “I didn’t realise -”

“Princess Dragomir,” he said. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Aren’t you meant to be gossiping with the rest of the Council? Deciding how to get more dhampirs killed?”

Lissa flushed, her fists clenching. “I didn’t have anything to do with the age law, and you know it, Ozera.”

She hadn’t spoken to Christian Ozera in years. He had kept to himself in school, and she had left him to it. In all honesty, she was surprised he was at Court – she would have expected him to distance himself from the Moroi world as much as he could, after graduation – and especially after what had happened with his aunt.

“I bet you spent all of your first Council session fighting it, though,” said Christian. He widened his eyes in mock surprise. “Oh, wait, the Council was too busy bending over itself welcoming the lost lamb home, wasn’t it?”

“Look, I had nothing to do with the age law, and I had nothing to do with your aunt,” said Lissa. “Not that I have to share my goals with you, but the King and I are working to repeal the age law, so if you want to go after anyone, it should be Nathan Ivashkov or Reece Taurus, not someone who’s on your side.”

Christian stared at her for a long moment then looked down. “You’re right. Fine. You’re not the problem with the system.”

“Thank you,” huffed Lissa. “Now, are you going to harass me all afternoon, or am I fine to stay?”

“You can stay, but -” Christian paused then continued, “Don’t you have that Ivashkov boyfriend? Shouldn’t you be with him after your first Council session? Seems like the kind of thing a boyfriend would want to celebrate.”

“He does,” said Lissa with a sigh. “There’s just not much worth celebrating. I haven’t done anything yet. I didn’t say two words in that session. There’s no point in celebrating being a royal if I can’t do anything with my status.” She smiled wistfully. “When I get the age law repealed, or legalise magical self-defence, then maybe we can throw a party. But until then, it’s just celebrating a terrible system.”

Christian half-smiled at her. “You know, you might actually be alright, Princess Dragomir.”

“Your approval means so much to me,” deadpanned Lissa, but she smiled all the same.

When she went back to her and Adrian’s apartment, the sun was already starting to crest on the horizon. She hadn’t meant to stay out so late. She hadn’t meant to talk to Christian for any longer than it took to apologise for disturbing him. And yet…

She pushed the door open, and Adrian jumped. Her eyes widened at the sight: he was by the stove, a pot on and boiling something. The counter was like a disaster zone, with too many mismatching ingredients to possibly be used for just one meal.

“Lissa!” exclaimed Adrian. “Shit, I -” He gestured at the mess. “I meant to make you dinner.”

Lissa smiled. It was sweet of him, even if it had ended up a bit of a disaster. “We’ll get take out.”

“I made you something else,” said Adrian. “Something that I didn’t fuck up.” He scurried to the other side of the room, where there was something waiting for Lissa that hadn’t been there when she had left that morning. A sheet covered a canvas, and Adrian pulled it off with a flourish.

It was a painting. A girl stood in a red dress, surrounded by purple and yellow. It was a beautiful painting, but…

“Is that me?” asked Lissa in confusion.

“Yeah!” said Adrian.

“But the painting has brown eyes,” said Lissa. The work was so impressionistic she was willing to forgive other differences between her and the girl in the painting, but the brown eyes seemed a bit too far from reality.

Adrian waved his hand dismissively. “It just worked better that way. Artistic licence.” He looked at her hopefully. “Do you like it?”

“Of course I do,” said Lissa, pulling him into a hug. “Thank you, Adrian.”

-

Lissa loved college. Really, she did. Her political science major was preparing her for her life on the Council, and her creative writing minor was keeping her sane through all her stresses. Still, that didn’t mean that lectures couldn’t drone on a bit.

God, Foucault was the worst.

She sighed as she rested her head on her hand. Next to her, Serena smirked and whispered, “How do you think the rest of us feel?” She nodded minutely at her partner, Will Kavinsky, who was seated closest to the door, ready for any Strigoi.

Lissa smothered a grin and turned to look at the lecturer again. Her head snapped back. There was a girl there that she had seen before. Not in class – Lissa had gotten familiar with all of her classmates’ auras in the first few weeks of semester. This girl was new, and so was her yellow-and-purple aura. But Lissa had seen that aura before somewhere, and recently, too.

She didn’t look out of place. She was alternating between watching the lecturer and scribbling down notes, just like everyone else in the room. She was dressed nicely, but not too nicely for a college campus, and she hadn’t looked at Lissa once, as far as anyone had noticed. If she had spent too much time studying Lissa, then Serena or Will would have noticed. But Lissa was certain: she’d seen that girl before.

Well. Class had certainly gotten much more interesting.

After her class ended, Lissa had an hour until her elective class on religion and folklore started. She and Serena headed to their preferred café on campus, Will following a safe distance behind. Lissa ordered a hot chocolate for herself and an espresso for Serena – her guardians needed all the help they could get, especially since they were personally interested in Lissa’s classes. Then she chose a seat by the window and waited.

The girl turned up, just like Lissa had known she would. Both Serena and Will looked up as the door opened, but their gazes seemed to glide right off her. She ordered herself a latte before settling down on the opposite side of the café, pulling out a book and beginning to read. The book was thick and well-worn, a hardcover with leaves of paper that weren’t quite all the same size. The girl ran her fingers over the words, mouthing something to herself. Her aura flared more purple than ever.

“Lissa?” asked Serena. “Everything alright?”

The girl was moving. She had put her book back in her bag, picked it up, and headed to the bathroom. Not anything unusual about it – maybe a little paranoid, since the only half-drunk coffee seemed to indicate she was coming back – but Lissa still got to her feet. “I just need a minute. I’ll be in the bathroom for a second, alright?”

“Alright,” said Serena, who would no doubt have her eyes glued to the bathroom door the whole time Lissa was gone.

The bathroom was empty when Lissa arrived. All the stalls were vacant and no one was at the washroom. Lissa turned to leave, wondering if spirit was starting to get to her, and ran straight into the girl. Lissa stifled a shriek before saying, “Sorry, I didn’t mean -”

“Lissa,” said the girl.

Lissa took a step back. “Who are you?”

“My name is Sydney Sage,” she said. “I’m here to help. Something’s wrong, and I think you might be the only person who can do something about it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Lissa, taking another step back. “My guardians are just outside. They’ll know if -”

“I’m not with the Strigoi,” said Sydney. “Please, I know this is going to be a lot to believe, but if you’ll just hear me out for five minutes -”

“Hear what out?” said Lissa.

“Adrian’s favourite food is raspberry slushie,” said Sydney. “I know that’s not even a food, but try telling him that. His favourite game is Monopoly, his favourite flower morning glories, his favourite song Shine On Your Crazy Diamond by Pink Floyd.” Lissa stopped. Her thoughts raced ahead of her: She’s making this up – but Adrian was listening to Pink Floyd just the other day – “He’s only broken one bone, when he was six and tripped down a set of stairs chasing a cat to pet,” continued Sydney.

“How do you know all of this?” whispered Lissa. “You’re human.”

Sydney turned her head slightly, and light caught on her cheek. Silver glinted in the shape of a lily. “I’ve had some experience with Moroi.”

Alchemists had gold tattoos, thought Lissa. She didn’t know everything about the Alchemists, though, so instead she said, “But you know about Adrian, not just the Moroi. How do you know so much about my boyfriend?”

Sydney’s face tightened, just a little, almost imperceptibly. “That’s what I need to talk to you about, Lissa – Y – Princess Dragomir.”

“My guardian is going to come in here eventually,” warned Lissa.

“We think that there’s some kind of mass compulsion,” said Sydney. “I was assigned to protect -” she hesitated “ – someone for the Moroi, with the help of a few guardians. One morning, they woke up, and they didn’t know why they were there, they didn’t remember anything that had happened over the past few months, they didn’t know me. I managed to get their memories back, but as far as any of us can tell, it’s affected every Moroi and dhampir out there.”

“I can’t be compelled like that,” said Lissa. “I’m a spirit user. I’m naturally resistant to compulsion.”

“Do you have a tattoo?” asked Sydney. She did. She had a dragon tattooed on to her shoulder, the symbol of her family. Sydney saw the confirmation in her eyes and pushed on. “Does Adrian?”

“Yes,” whispered Lissa.

“Sometimes, a tattoo can be used to reinforce compulsion,” said Sydney. She tapped the silver lily on her cheek and said, “Trust me. I’m very familiar with it.”

“I don’t have any reason to believe this,” said Lissa. “What you’re saying is insane – compulsion over every Moroi and dhampir out there? The amount of power that would take to maintain would drive anyone mad.”

“You’re right,” said Sydney, grimly. “It would drive someone insane. It just won’t always be the spirit user.” She fished a phone out of her pocket. “Look,” she said, switching the screen on and holding it out to Lissa. The phone was already open to a camera roll of photos and Lissa swiped through it. There was Adrian, with his arm wrapped around a young girl Lissa didn’t know, kissing the top of her brown curls. One of Eddie Castile – Lissa hadn’t seen Eddie since she graduated – with Sydney and the girl, laughing.

Lissa stopped on the third photo. It was one of her, dressed as a fairy, arm in arm with another girl that Lissa had never met. The other girl had dark hair and tanned skin, and her face was turned away from the camera because she was saying something to Lissa. Lissa was laughing, her head thrown back. They were in matching costumes, both wearing fairy wings and both with liberal amounts of glitter scattered through their hair and over their skin.

“That was at Halloween last year,” said Sydney. “Rose sent the photo to Dimitri, and he shared it with Eddie, Jill and I.”

“I don’t - ” Lissa broke off. She didn’t understand any of this.

“We can fix this,” said Sydney. “But we need your help.”

Lissa swallowed hard and looked back up at Sydney. “My guardians won’t let me go anywhere.”

“That’s where I come in,” said Sydney. She rummaged through her bag and took out a piece of cloth tied around something that smelled of herbs, hanging from a long black cord. She handed it to Lissa and said, “Wear this around your neck and they won’t see you leave.”

Lissa took it dubiously. “I don’t see how a bunch of herbs is going to make me invisible.”

“You’ve got your tricks, I’ve got mine,” said Sydney. “Trust me. You don’t want to be using anymore spirit.” Lissa slid the black cord over her neck. She couldn’t see any difference, but Sydney nodded in approval.

This is a bad idea, thought Lissa. You’ve never met this person in your life. She’s been stalking you, and now she’s taking you away from the guardians. She could be leading you into a trap.

But Lissa had so many questions, and not a single one of them could be explained by anyone other than Sydney Sage. So when Sydney left the café, Lissa followed.

-

When she was in the car with Sydney, Lissa waited until they had pulled out of the parking lot before she finally asked the obvious question. “How did you do that? Serena and Will didn’t even see me.”

“Magic,” said Sydney. “It’s not common, and it’s not intrinsic to us like it is for Moroi, but some humans can use magic, too. It’s the only reason I was able to get the others’ memories straightened up.”

“Who are the others?” asked Lissa.

“Eddie Castile,” said Sydney. “You know him, right? That didn’t get taken from you?”

“We both went to Saint Vladimir’s, yeah,” said Lissa. “Who else?”

“Jill,” said Sydney, looking at Lissa out of the corner of her eye. “Jill Mastrano. There’s more to it, but that’s definitely been taken from your memories. And Neil Raymond and Angeline Dawes, who are our other two guardians.”

“That’s a lot of guardians,” said Lissa. “You said that you were protecting someone. Who?”

“Jill,” said Sydney. “God, I shouldn’t have to be the one to tell you this. Jill’s an illegitimate child, but one with enough royal blood to be considered part of one of the royal families, and we had to keep her away from the rest of the Moroi population because without her, her family wouldn’t make quorum, and she was being targeted for it.”

There was only one royal family who was struggling to make quorum. “No,” said Lissa. That was too far over the line. That was a lie. “You’re lying to me. Let me out, let me go!” Lissa threw all the compulsion she had into the command, but Sydney didn’t even blink.

“Sorry,” said Sydney. “I can’t be compelled anymore. You’ll still want to see this, Your Highness.”

“My father would never have cheated on my mother,” seethed Lissa. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re trying to do – you’re not even a real Alchemist, are you? Alchemist lilies are gold!”

Sydney smiled, very faintly. “You’re right. I’m not a real Alchemist. I haven’t been one for a while. But I’m not a real Alchemist anymore because I love your sister like she’s my own, and I would do anything to keep her safe.” Sydney took a left turn into a suburban neighbourhood. The houses were run-down and the yards weren’t well-maintained. Lissa stared out the window, watching the beat-up cars pass them. “We can’t all afford luxury on the run, Your Highness,” said Sydney.

Sydney pulled into a small house on the end of the street. The front door opened and Eddie Castile appeared. Lissa unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car. She couldn’t believe Eddie was in on this, whatever this was. He had always been a good guy at school, kind and funny and clever. She never would have believed Eddie would do anything to hurt her.

“Eddie?” she said, tentatively.

He smiled. “Hey, Liss.”

“She doesn’t believe me,” said Sydney, getting out of the car herself. “She’s in denial over Jill.”

Eddie’s smile dropped. “What happened to Mason Ashford?” he asked.

“What? Eddie, didn’t he die in the attack?” said Lissa.

“He died in Spokane,” said Eddie. “What about sophomore and junior years? Where were you?”

“At school,” said Lissa, even as she tried to remember her sophomore year. The details seemed fuzzy – she had been repeating Elemental Basics, right? And she’d been dating Aaron – but hadn’t she broken up with Aaron by then?

“Were you?” said Eddie.

“Where else would I have been?” whispered Lissa.

Another face appeared at the door, a dhampir girl a few years younger than Lissa, with strawberry blonde hair and a serious expression. “Eddie, Jill needs you.”

Eddie didn’t pause to explain, and neither did Sydney. Eddie turned on his heel and half-jogged back into the house, while Sydney ushered Lissa inside. “It might be daylight, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe,” said Sydney. “Seriously, we’re not going to hurt you.”

Lissa followed Eddie down the short hallway into a bedroom. Eddie was crouching by a girl in the corner, her brown curls wild and askew. She was wrapped in his arms, and he pressed his lips to the top of her head, murmuring comforting nonsense. The girl startled as Lissa entered, trying to back up further into the corner, but there was nowhere to go.

“Jill,” said Sydney, softly. “We’ve got Lissa. We can fix this.” This was her supposed sister? Lissa wondered, staring in amazement.

Jill shook her head, her movements jerky and sudden. “There’s no fixing this,” said Jill. “It’s over, it’s over, he’s won.”

“This isn’t you, Jill,” said Eddie. “Remember? It’s not you.” He looked back up at Sydney and asked, “Have you found anything yet?”

Sydney shook her head. “Bonds and spirit use aren’t understood by Moroi, let alone witches.” Eddie swore under his breath and kissed Jill’s forehead again.

Lissa knelt beside Jill, reaching out to touch the girl’s arm gently. She knew better than anyone that spirit didn’t cure mental illness, but she wanted to, she wanted to help the helpless, desperate girl and give her some hope. Lissa’s magic shimmered, going from her hand to Jill, and Jill went still.

“Jill?” said Eddie, cautiously.

Jill looked up, her face still wet with tears. “Lissa?” she whispered.

“Hi,” said Lissa.

“What just happened?” asked Sydney.

“I think – I think I just healed her,” said Lissa, studying Jill’s face. Eddie’s arms tightened around Jill, and Jill reached up to wrap her hand around Eddie’s, smiling.

“The darkness is gone,” said Jill. “I can still feel him, but the darkness is gone.”

“Holy shit,” said Angeline, from the doorway.

“Language,” chastised Sydney without so much as looking over her shoulder. “Are you sure, Jill?”

“Yeah,” said Jill. Her face was regaining some colour. Without the tears and the fear, Lissa could see she was even very lightly tanned – she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen a Moroi who spent enough time in the sun to tan. Jill got to her feet, pulling Eddie with her, and kissed him soundly.

“Oi, lovebirds!” said Angeline. “Haven’t we got something more important to be doing?”

“Angeline,” chastised Sydney again, though there amusement in her voice.

Jill pulled away, looking very pleased with herself. “Nothing’s more important than kissing Eddie, but I guess we can work on other things, too.”

“Their first kiss was after staking a Strigoi,” said Angeline, to Lissa. “Nothing makes them more annoying than mortal danger.”

“Sydney claimed that you were my sister,” said Lissa.

Jill sighed. “I never thought I’d have to do this again – but, yes. My name is Jill Mastrano Dragomir, and I’m your sister.” Lissa stepped forward, inspecting Jill. Their hair was nothing alike, Jill’s brown and curly to Lissa’s blonde and straight, and the shape of their faces were different – but Jill’s eyes were Dragomir green, a pale green that Lissa had seen in her mirror a million times before.

“I need to hear everything,” decided Lissa. “Your whole story. Then I can decide whether I trust you.”

“Fair enough,” said Sydney. “I wouldn’t believe this without proof, either.”

They went to the kitchen, because Jill’s messy bedroom was no place to have a serious discussion. Angeline got herself a bag of chips from the cupboard and sat on the counter, while Sydney and Lissa sat at the table. Jill and Eddie hadn’t let go of each other and sat next to each other, their chairs dragged close together so that their shoulders brushed.

“Start from the beginning,” said Lissa.

Jill snorted and muttered, “Easier said than done.”

Sydney quelled Jill with a look and said, “It was a month ago now. Jill and the rest of us were all at Amberwood Preparatory School in Palm Springs – that’s where she’s been hidden.”

“Smart,” murmured Lissa. She couldn’t think of a place less welcoming for vampires, Moroi or Strigoi – except for maybe the Sahara Desert. It certainly explained Jill’s tan.

“We weren’t the only ones there,” said Sydney. “Adrian was also sent to Palm Springs, because he and Jill are bonded.”

Lissa stared at Jill. “Like – like Vladimir and Anna?”

“At least you remember that much,” muttered Eddie.

Sydney nodded. “Adrian was summoned back to Court. There was a Strigoi restored nearby, and they wanted all spirit users at Court to investigate.” Olive Sinclair, remembered Lissa. The first Strigoi to ever be restored. It had been a miracle, one made by Robert Doru. “Back in Palm Springs, Eddie, Angeline and Neil all woke up with no memory of why they were in Palm Springs. None of them even knew each other, or that Jill was a princess. If I hadn’t been able to get hold of a memory charm, they would have stayed that way.”

“Even when Sydney was able to give our memories back, I could still tell what we were supposed to be ‘remembering’,” said Jill. “I could see it through the bond with Adrian. He thought that you were just about to get your place on the Council, and that you and he were dating.” Jill’s face scrunched up in disgust.

“Why is that such a problem?” demanded Lissa hotly.

“Because you were seeing someone else,” said Eddie. “So was Adrian. You were friends before, nothing more.”

“You’re saying that my entire relationship was manufactured,” said Lissa, flatly. “That it’s just compulsion binding me to my boyfriend.” All four exchanged uncomfortable glances. It was clear that that was exactly what they thought. Lissa pursed her lips and said, “Finish your story.”

“We got attacked by guardians the next day,” said Eddie. “We barely got away. They were coming for Jill. We thought at the time that they were rebels, but we’re not so sure now.”

“You have a bondmate,” explained Sydney. “Her name is Rose Hathaway. She was your best friend and guardian, and as far as we can tell, no one has seen her since the change.”

“What are you saying?” asked Lissa, slowly.

“We think that the spell was cast so that you and Adrian -” Sydney paused then said, “Do you know mobile phone towers? They spread reception for mobile phones in the area, allowing you to get reception. We think that – well, we think you’re the phone towers, and they’ve harnessed your spirit abilities to transmit the new memories.”

“What has this got to do with Jill and – and Rose?” asked Lissa.

“Have you been having any side effects from spirit use lately?” asked Sydney. “Has Adrian?”

Lissa thought back. She hadn’t felt any darkness, but she hadn’t been using enough spirit lately to feel it – had she? She had made some plants sprout flowers the other day, and when Adrian had gotten a paper cut she had healed him, and she had been practicing dream walking…

Okay, maybe she had used spirit a little too much to be feeling so few effects.

“It’s because the darkness has been pushed out of you on to your bondmates,” said Sydney, gently. “From Adrian to Jill and from you to Rose. We think that’s why they wanted Jill, and why they’ve taken Rose – to keep them under observation.”

“What do these people want?” asked Lissa. “You keep saying that they’ve changed our memories, but from what?”

Again, there was a round of uncomfortable looks. It was Eddie who eventually responded. “It was Victor Dashkov and his half-brother,” he said eventually. “He used it to make himself king.”

“What?” said Lissa. “Why wouldn’t he have been king? He’s the most obvious choice after Tatiana died, unless you’re saying he actually murdered and then changed our memories.”

“No,” said Eddie. “Tatiana really did die last year. She really was assassinated by Tasha Ozera. But Dashkov was never an option in the elections, because he was never in the running.”

“If he wanted to be king so badly, then why didn’t he just run in the elections, fair and square?” asked Lissa.

“Because he couldn’t,” said Eddie. His voice was so gentle that it made Lissa’s hackles rise, knowing that there was bad news coming. “He was stripped of his titles and royal status for kidnapping and torturing you into healing him.”

Lissa froze. “My uncle would never do that to me.”

“Lissa, I’m sorry, but -”

“No,” interrupted Lissa, cutting Eddie off. “You’re lying. My uncle would never do that. He wouldn’t even have to! I’d heal him, no questions asked. What you’re saying makes no sense. You’re lying.” She stared around at the others. “You’re all lying.”

Angeline rolled her eyes. “Oh, for fuck’s sake -”

“Lissa, please -” started Sydney.

It was Jill, though, that got Lissa’s attention. “Look at my aura.” Lissa looked, letting her aura vision flare into life. Jill’s aura was a warm blue, mixed in with greens and purples, with a shadow outlining it. “You can see that my aura is connected to something, right? Follow that link.”

Lissa followed it. She grasped the link and pulled at it, looking for the other end. A second aura flared, gold and purple and pieces of black scattered through it. Lissa knew that aura. She was seeing a shadow of Adrian Ivashkov in Jill’s aura. Lissa gasped, and dropped the link.

“I’m Adrian’s bondmate,” said Jill. “I’m your sister. I’m not lying about those things, and you can tell that. We’re not lying about anything else, either.”

Lissa didn’t know what to think. Jill’s paternity and bond were undeniable – but everything else was so far out of the realm of possibility that they couldn’t possibly be true. Her uncle would never hurt her. She had never met anyone named Rose. And she knew her own feelings.

“Take me back,” said Lissa.

Sydney hesitated, and Angeline opened her mouth to protest, but Eddie said, “I should be the one to take you back. It’ll be dark by the time you get to campus.” He glanced at Sydney and said, “Neil should be back any minute. You and Angeline can handle things till then, right?”

“I’m right here,” muttered Jill, as Sydney nodded.

Eddie stood up, catching the keys when Sydney tossed them to him. “Come on, Lissa.”

The drive back to Leigh was quiet. When they pulled into the slip lane that led on to campus, Eddie said, “I know everything sounds insane. Seriously, I do. I’ve been there, remember? I had Jill and Sydney telling me all these things that morning that I had no memory of. But I swear, Lissa, it’s all true.”

Lissa blinked back tears stinging at her eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

“Please, just -” Eddie sighed. “Look into Rose. She was at Spokane, too, when Mason died, and I always said I’d take care of her, you know? And now she’s missing, and there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it.”

There was a surprising amount of self-loathing in his voice. Lissa couldn’t do anything but nod.

Eddie watched from a distance as Lissa made her way back to the café. Serena was still there, but Will had gone – was looking for her, presumably. Serena was pacing furiously, but the moment she saw Lissa, she ran to Lissa’s side, checking her over carefully.

“Where were you?” demanded Serena.

“I… just needed some time to myself,” said Lissa. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

When Lissa turned to look, Eddie and the car were gone.

-

She didn’t say anything to anyone.

I should tell someone, she thought, over and over again. There was a witch that could just waltz in under the guardians’ noses, and God only knew what she wanted. It was a security risk, one that they couldn’t risk.

“You’re acting strange,” said Christian, one afternoon. He propped himself on his arm, staring at her accusingly. They were back under the willow, their shared place of quiet, with Lissa nestled in its roots and Christian lazing on the grass beside her.

“No, I’m not,” said Lissa, automatically.

“Yes, you are,” said Christian. “You’re thinking too much. Even I can tell it’s a bad sign.”

Lissa narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you saying that I’m empty-headed most of the time?”

“That’s not what I’m saying and you damn well know it,” said Christian. “Spill it, Dragomir.”

Lissa hesitated, then without even deciding to, the whole story came pouring out. “I met these people at Leigh the other day…”

Christian listened from beginning to end. He didn’t interrupt to ask questions, like Adrian might have, just let her clarify herself as the story went on. When she finished, he blew out a long stream of air and said, “That is definitely not why I thought you went missing.”

“Why did you think I went missing?” asked Lissa. He made it sound like there was some kind of conspiracy going on.

Christian shrugged. “Don’t know. Just knew that you weren’t being honest about the whole ‘needing space’ thing.” He thought for a moment then said, “So Adrian doesn’t know anything, huh?”

“I haven’t told him everything, but I’ve asked about Palm Springs and he said he’d never been, and I’ve mentioned the name Jill Mastrano to him and he doesn’t even blink,” said Lissa. “Trust me, he isn’t that good a liar. He doesn’t know anything.”

“But you know they’re bonded because you followed the bond in their auras,” mused Christian. “Have you tried doing that yourself?”

Lissa blinked. “What?”

“Well, they said you’re bonded with someone, right?” said Christian. “If you can follow a bond between two other people’s auras, why not your own?”

Lissa nodded slowly. “It… might work.” She held her arm up and summoned her aura, the shimmering gold surrounding her arm. She could see the link, and she closed her eyes as she tried to follow it back to its source. All she could feel was darkness. What if there was nothing at the other end? What if there was, and she couldn’t make contact? She still hadn’t managed dream-walking. No, she thought, pushing the doubts away. I’m doing this. She pressed further, focusing on the image of the dark-haired fairy making Lissa laugh.

Lissa?

Lissa jumped. Christian said something, but she wasn’t listening. Rose? Is that you?

Holy shit, Lissa! Are you okay? How are you doing this?

I’m… okay, thought Lissa. I followed the link between our auras to you. Are you okay?

I’ve been better, said Rose. There was a pause, then, You still don’t remember me, do you?

You know about that?

Are you kidding? Your head is a far more pleasant place to be than my own recently. I’ve been watching. I know your memories have been fucked with. Like everyone’s. There was a clear note of misery in her voice, impotent fury mixed with hopelessness.

I’m sorry.

It’s not your fault.

Who’s is it? asked Lissa, half-dreading the answer.

Hang on, let me try something, thought Rose. Before Lissa could ask what, she was assaulted with a series of images and memories: a pressure bearing down on Lissa’s skull as Victor watched on impassively; Natalie – poor Natalie, who’d been killed by a Strigoi in their senior year – as a Strigoi herself with blood drying on her lips; Christian being thrown against the wall, the fire in his hands winking out, as Victor Dashkov swept into the throne room with Robert Doru on his heels.

Lissa gasped, her hands flying to her head. She clutched at her temples, doubling over. At once, Christian was at her side, his hands gentle on her shoulders. “Are you okay? Lissa, can you hear me?”

Sorry, said Rose. Is that Christian? Figures you’d find him again, in your own little quiet place.

You know him?

Yeah, said Rose. I know that was a lot to take in, Liss. I didn’t realise it’d hurt.

It’s okay, said Lissa. If you hadn’t shown me, I don’t think I would have…

Her own uncle. The man who had taken her in after her family’s death. The man who had fought to give her back her rightful place on the Council – or had he even done that? Was that a lie, too? She already had quorum through Jill, back before the memory change, if Jill and the others were telling the truth.

Her uncle.

Yeah, thought Rose, heavy with sympathy. I know.

Do you think I’ll ever get my memories back? asked Lissa. Do you think any of us will?

I don’t know, said Rose. I hope so.

Rose?

Yeah?

I’m going to find you.

[kuroganeslayer]

@tamashisenkensha had said

Truthfully, Erik hated to show any amount of weakness, though for some reason, likely how close he and Gajeel had grown was why he wasn’t against getting help from the other slayer. It was odd, relying on someone and trusting them – given his past, of course.

“Cool as a cucumber as some would say, though certain things do cause stress no matter how calm and collected an individual may be,”

He would shrug slightly, wincing since he had technically allowed the wound to fester, having the other slice the infection out would be more beneficial than just wrapping it after dousing it in peroxide and salve.

“You can cut it, I don’t think you’ll need to hold my arm steady since I’ll hear right before you slice. I can focus on something else if it’s painful,”

Erik would merely take a breath as he felt the kunai being dragged along and poked into his skin. He would flinch once or twice as the other slayer touched various parts of his back and neck, but nothing too major or notable before he closed his eye and felt the burn of the blade entering his skin as the hot liquid from the infection began to flow along with some blood.

“Heh, I take it that there was a bit of nastiness in there huh?”

He knew there was, he’d been able to smell it. It was not a pleasant scent. He wasn’t even sure what it was that had caused it, but the pain was already lessening as Gajeel helped him. That was good. The infected flesh had been removed, and now his arm and shoulder needed to be wrapped and cleaned up.

“That scar is from when that bastard Brain betrayed me, he attacked me while I was down. To keep me there,”

He would all but spit the name of the old leader of the Oracion Seis like it was bad food or even venom. There would also be a slight hiss because of how much hatred the poison slayer still held for the man despite having slain him.

“I’m going to need to train myself to differentiate the voices I hear from a group as I combat them, I figure having the others help me, despite not wanting to have to be around them might help. My only other option would be to find a guild that I can sit inside and focus on a group of people’s voices rather than the guild as a whole,”

He would nod he knew that Gajeel had technically broken the law when he let him go back then, but he was thankful. It was thanks to Gajeel letting him go that he was still free. Even after being pardoned the Council was trying to get to him. Likely to use his magic for some purpose that he wanted nothing to do with.

“To be honest, I’m glad you give a shit. I’m glad we’ve become close, it’s nice to know that there’s someone out there looking out for me, just as I look out for them. Tell me, if you had a way to leave Fairy Tail without the old geezer coming after you, would you take it?”

Erik felt that Gajeel would do much better elsewhere, the iron slayer was not and never would be a Fairy to him. His guild did not define him. Not to the poison slayer. He would keep his arm lifted so the other would be able to wrap the wound effectively, he was ignoring any pain he felt as it was nothing compared to what it had been before the other helped him.

“I find that I rather like the idea of traveling with you as opposed to the group with the annoying bastard Jellal,”

@kuroganeslayer

Gajeel was looming over anything else that Erik might have any other wounds somewhere else. He knew the other could handle pain without a problem, as he placed his bloodied kunai down from cutting out the infection making a note to clean it more.

The iron dragon knew that trust would always be an issue for him. It always be there since he was a child learning to surive in a slave/ criminal environment. Even with Fairy Tail most people werent on that level with him either. Realizing Erik's lack of trust was understandable with his past history of being enslaved and manipulated like a puppet. Gajeel easily could relate to it. The only difference was that his ex master didnt try to kill him, but it didnt put him past him that Jose might have tried if given the chance. If he was an disappointment he be expendable. The trust he had for the other dragon slayer was nice change.

"Bastards like that deserve death. Sounds like to me he had no faith in your abilities. Fucking asshole....I would have killed him too."

Gajeel never had a trusting nature and the way he grew up you had to look out for yourself. It was a natural instinct he never let himself lower his guard. At least he didnt think he had soften that much as he still killed if needed or any traitors or enemies to avoid those future problems. It was the difference in a guild that hated to kill unlike his last one that was for it. Especially in Denish there were no rules to follow which was similar with the dark guilds so he understood the dark UnderWorld. In the truth since back then he was more reckless so there was a chance some of the punks that were beaten up if not dead would find their way in his direction. If so he dispose of them himself. If anyone went after Erik they would suffer the consequences even though he knew the other dragon slayer easily could handle himself, it was that natural instinct that Gajeel may have become a little protective, in his own way.

"Maybe ya can train yourself to block things from your mind upon will. I know you can hear everything around, but there must be a technique that works with recognizing other voices and focus on certain ones only."

" I'm assuming ya talking about your gang just focus on hearing them selectively then as a group. It might be easier than a bunch of strangers."

Gajeel shook his head as he wasn't satisfied with him thinking about looking for another guild as another another option. It might have been selfish, but he was afraid he might see less of his friend. They had something, bond, connection, trust and it was only matter of time when they could get closer than what they are now.

"I like spending time with ya too much that I don't want you joining another guild. If ya do I probably see less of your ass since your hard to track down most of the time."

He hadnt expected that Erik would ask him about defecting regardless he had expressed it many times in his actions through motions of combat. The iron dragon often kept to himself, but his friend easily could read his mind. There wasn't much of keeping it hidden from him anymore.

"We have become really close and while I dont have many friends, I look out for my own. Yes I would if the opportunity presented itself where I wouldnt be hunted down.."

He pulled Erik abit closer to examine him and making sure he got all the other areas bandaged as he finished wrapping his arm. He blinked several times then grinned moment as if thinking the words over. For months he had that agenda to leave or never be happy, but always having that fear striking his soul if he took that risk and it was obvious that decision would happen sooner than later. Even if he did defect where would he go?

"I like hanging out with ya too. Just wish we can do it more often."

@tamashisenkensha

​#tags

[tartareus]

CAOS MUSES CANON DIVERGENCE; not unlike many here, i too found the third act of sabrina’s adventures a bit…lacking, to say the least. bad writing got me more and throwing character development to the bin made me finally decide that i am not going to accept most of what happened as true -  i will, however try to keep the changes to mininal as a say to make canon complying muses’ interactions with mine run smoothly.

for starters: my edward, salem and my della are primarily based on the comics (the chilling adventures of sabrina and sabrina the teenage witch) + my own head canons, therefore do expect their nature to be a bit darker\different than the show presents them. with that in mind…

edward did not die - he was in a circle of hell trapped inside a tree. once lucifer’s power over hell waned, the prision that kept the warlock there started to weaken and, thus, eventually he got out, finally free… only to find himself in…

queen lilith’s hell - yes, i am not going for that idea of lilith not being their queen, more than anyone else she does deserve the title, she worked for it and there is no point to not make all the effort during pt1 and 2 to go without a reward; for that to happen, though, i still accept the plot that sabrina went after nick, but instead of just taking satan back to earth…

edward becomes the morningstar’s host - besides being more than capable of taking him, edward is a known, talented, conjurer, had a somewhat deal or even relationship with empusa (a shape shifting demon), he knows how demons work. he knows what to expect and, other than that, he knows the boy will struggle. he won’t. although his very own existence is kept a secret from sabrina, in a similar fashion of b.ckwood, instead of struggling for dominance, edward will try and strike a bargain with lucifer (unknown to anyone else), if only to be sure that everything goes along with his own secret agenda…

he still helps zelda, though - as he is in hell and is not dead but trapped there, he makes use of some of lucifer’s powers to cross the veil and go for their aid.

della still remains a head witch - that is, still works for the council in rome, but with a slighly different twist. she herself is a hedgewitch. i’ve thought about this, and what it would mean for her character (originally in the sttw comics as sabrina’s mentor and the one that tried to guide her to the path of night, and them also as the queen of sabbath in the tcaos comics) and it seems that it just might fit her character altogether. hedgewitches are, after all, very old, powerful, lone witches who are but a few - which was what i was going for her originally. with that in mind, i have come to an hc that

della has her own very unique abilities - much like gryla, sycorax, and pesta, della possesses her own abilities as her own deal was slightly different. instead of having an aggressive ability like pesta and sycorax, she has a spiritual one - although not too similar from gryla’s ability to gather the spirits of her lads - that is very subtle: she can walk through the veil between the living and the dead, roaming in the in between without the fear of never returning (unless, of course, it is her time). that means that in her astral projections the psychopomps do not acknowledge her presence at all, one of the reasons she was hired by the council.

her age is hard to determinate -  she is clearly younger than the members of the council, but way older than the spellmans. to maintain her youth and looks, and not require a powerful glamour that would make her tired and weak if she kept holding for years, della consumes babies, mostly mortal orphans, in order to survive. that ritual is only required after some centuries (if it is a witch baby) or after the lifetime that mortal would’ve had. for that, it is needless to say that…

her relationship with gryla is of mutual hate and disdain - for the two of them are rivals in their quest for younger souls. although gryla herself has no choice but pick orphans, della prefers them because it usually avoids the whole ordeal of stealing a child. imagine how complicated it must’ve gotten when she answered the distress call from the coven in greendale…

although she is part of not coven, per se, della goes to their aid - or rather, is summoned against her own will, but she’s never going to admit that. particularly taking great joy at hunting the pagans, chasing them off greendale in the timeline that was fixed. in the broken timeline (aka the end of the world), not unlike ambrose (however using slightly shadier strategies) she managed to survive and remained hidden, safe in a witch’s cell in the vatican’s necropolis. sadly, she does end up going a little mad, but before she loses it all…

she manages to send ambrose some books that once belonged to the council - in hopes that these unholy scriptures, that had never been to the access of other witches and warlocks other than the scholars of rome, would help, hoping that he would be able to do what she had failed to: figure a way out of this mess.

salem is not a goblin but, in fact, a mortal curse by a witch he scorned centuries ago. cursed to become her familiar, after the witch he was forcibly bound to died during the salem trials the dark lord himself appeared before him, telling him that he would only lift the curse if he sold his soul to him - which he did, however what samuel (his mortal name) failed to realise was that he had not been specific as the date he should be free and, as such, the father of lies told him he would only be free once he had met, served and protected a white haired witch that was and was not daughter of night. it took centuries for him to find her, but when he saw sabrina he knew inside his old bones that it was her. 

he has come to terms to his current situation - he used to be a good christian, yes a bit reckless and an asshole with how he treated women, but he changed.  it was a hard lesson he had to learn. as he learned to repent, he also learned to understand the nature of witches better. they reacted with what they had. as such, he started to grow fond of sabrina and her family, even her friends (although he does not fancy being treated like an ordinary house pet).

he never liked robin nor lilith (when she was pretending to be ms wardwell), hissing soundly at them as he deemed them a probably threat to his witch.

lucifer granted him a couple of gifts to endure his long life - magical abilities akin to a warlock’s (but never enough to turn himself into human again, at least not for a long while) and speech (although he spent such a long time silent that he wonders if his throat still can produce anything other than a felinesound), as well seven lives. he is currently on the begining of his last life.

in both timelines salem tries to protect the spellmans - in the broken timeline, salem is dead (with satan no longer on the throne to secure his powers, the cat, much like the witches he served, started to weaken), probably trying to find sabrina and failing miserably. in the fixed timeline, he stays with zelda and mambo, refusing to leave her side. as they escaped, salem found that a good way to distract them was by attacking blackwood with the last remnants of his strength, unaware that faustus beared the mark of cain. wounded, he hides behind vinegar tom, trusting that the protective magic surrounding zelda’s old familiar (which she insisted that was still alive, just his vessel dead), would keep them from fiding him. he eventually recovers his strength and rejoins the spellmans, but feels something off, as if there was something wrong with sabrina.

overall, my main pet peeve with this season was how poorly handled some archs were. as much as i love the new order of hecate (which btw sounds very pagan to me but okay), i wish they had kept the church of lilith and, as such i will accept both realities and place them in different timelines, especially for hilda. 

i do hc that she still prays for her, away from zelda’s hearing of course, because when she was in the pit (unaware that they were praying for hecate) and in the in between when zelda and edward left, she prayed for her even though she is not the religious type, and came out of it alive. it was only after all that mess that she realised that maybe her prayers were in vain, but she didn’t mind at all.

i also hc that, after her spidey-incident she's been getting a bit uneasy near her own familiars (and they seem to notice that too, being slightly worried for her), she also decides to take a break from her relationship with cee; even though she loves him, and he proposed, she almost killed him ( and may or may not have tried to make him fertilize her eggs , unholy fuck that sentence shall haunt me for some good while) and that starts to make her realise that their relationship might be too dangerous for him, as a mortal. he already faced a witch hunter to protect her and now this? the last thing she wants is to cause him harm.

with mambo being around to look after zelda, hilda just might look for a place of her own, perhaps a little cottage in england as she so desires. it's not that she doesn't want to be part of the coven, or better the order, but even for her, non-religious and almost skeptical, bouncing off from deity to deity is not proving to be a good thing. besides, she's grown quite a backbone (about damn time) and she will no longer endure how she has been treated by her sister - i will elaborate further on the domestic abuse and the ptsd hilda suffers from being killed so many times and the mutual codependency of her relationship with her sister on a separate post, eventually

sometimes hilda puts a few drops of a soothing draught on zelda's food, because apparently if she asks for her sister to take a deep breath or watch her blood pressure it is a reason to receive a dark look. Sl instead of fretting and being pushed away, she just gets it done anyway. it is also comforting for her to know how easily she could kill zelda by putting something lethal on her food. whilst she does entertain herself with these thoughts, she knows she would never be able to kill her ow flesh and blood.

she raised ambrose almost mostly by herself, back when she lived in England. as her first child,she did spoil him rotten. Hilda never really thought of having kids herself, being demiromantic/demisexual she couldn't find it in herself to partake on the coven's festivities and enjoy lupercalia with a random witch or warlock, zelda was the baby crazy one, who had held sabrina almost possessively. she spoiled sabrina as well, perhaps due to Edward's recent death or because she knew how much her murders took their toll on her young niece, but not enough to "ruin" her as zelda always made sure.

although she could easily wear glamours to look more like the rest of her family (tall and slender), hilda learned with time to love herself, being more positive both inside and out.