#shout out to reign for informing me of this

[cuntertaker]

EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP EVERYTIME YOU COMPLAIN ABOUT BILLY HARGROVE YOURE COMPLAINING ABOUT A GUY THAT LOOKS LIKE THIS

I DONT WANT TO HEAR IT ANYMORE !!!!!! YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO TALK BADLY ABOUT HIM GO TAKE IT UP WITH LITTLE PRETTY HEAVEN HEART HERE !!!!

[trippinsorrows]

ltye: my little girl

authors note: roman being soft with his youngest (as of this oneshot). we love to see it. this is dreamland based.

*gif belongs to @romanreigns*

words: 3k

warnings: fluff galore, some angst

It happens every so often. Not a ton, but definitely on more than one occasion.

Where the house is empty sans the pets and one or two children.

Typically, it occurs over a weekend where there’s some type of overlap between the older kids' extracurriculars. This time, it’s Lina having a volleyball conference out of town, Leya tagging along to go support her sister, Tama attending a football camp, and Koa and Kai at some type of weekend tech training for kids. Roman doesn’t really understand what that last bit entails, but they, along with the rest of the family all have their security details with them, Jacob with the girls, and Zilla and Lance with the boys. They’re safe, and that’s all that matters to him.

However, with everyone else gone. That just leaves him and his youngest. 

Little Ms. Aroha Reigns.

The same little girl who’s currently using her equally little hands to try to shake him awake. “Daddy.” The dichotomy of her trying to keep her voice down while also wanting to wake him up makes him smile a little. “Daddy, you gotta get up.”

He knows he does, but a part of him wishes she would have slept a little longer. Her tiny body curled against him, as she’s always scared to sleep in her room by herself when her siblings are away. It’s too quiet in that wing of the house for her, hence her sleeping with him and bringing Coco with her. 

But, Roro is up now. There’s no going back.

Roman groans quietly and rolls onto his back, opening his eyes to see her staring down at him, just as alert and awake as all the outdoors. 

She's clearly pleased at her wake-him-up victory. “Daddy, you’re up!”

He chuckles. “I’m up, but why are you up?”

She pouts, and his smile reappears. “Cause we gotta make breakfast.”

“We do?”

She nods happily, informing him like he doesn’t live there. “Mommy always makes breakfast.”

She’s not wrong about that. Roman can only recall a few times where his wife hasn’t gotten up early just to ensure their family starts off their day the right way with full stomachs. He’s tried to tell her countless times that she doesn’t have to, but he sees it’s something that brings her joy. The cooking, but specifically, the cooking for them.

So, he leaves her be, and obviously, the importance of this now tradition is something that’s been burned into his youngest child’s head. 

Roman clears his throat and rubs his eyes, asking, “whatchu’ want us to fix, baby girl?” 

With raised fists of excitement, she shouts, “sparkle pancakes!”

Roman laughs a little. “Daddy knows how to make regular pancakes.” One of the few meals he’s learned how to prepare over the years. The Tribal Chief knows his place when it comes to the culinary arts. That’s all Solana. Definitely not him.

Again, there’s that pout. “Regular pancakes are boring.” Her eyes light up. “I’ll show you how to make sparkle pancakes! Mommy taught me.”

Another not surprising thing. Similar to Leya, Aroha has shown an interest in cooking and baking, often wanting to help her big sister and mom when it comes time to prepare food. 

Aroha has clearly set her mind to this being the plan, thus her trying to shove on him to get him moving. “Come on, daddy!”

Roman gives one more heavy sigh before sitting up, scooping Aroha up with him as he climbs out the bed, seeing Coco still sleeping away.

“Hygiene first, kiddo.” Roman carries her into his master bathroom, setting her on the counter as she grabs her toothbrush from her little section of stuff he already set up for her. Together, they get teeth brushed, faces washed, and Roman does a lazy bun with his hair but focuses on getting her ponytail just right as she talks away about all of the “fun” things she wants to do with him this weekend.

He doesn’t mind. Roman can’t recall the last time it was just the two of them, so he’ll do whatever she wants—within reason—to make this weekend special for her.

After letting the dogs outside and putting out their breakfast, Roman and his youngest get started on their own. He lets Aroha lead, allowing her to walk him step-by-step through her unsurprisingly detailed tutorial. Even the parts that are no-brainers, because she clearly enjoys feeling like she’s the one teaching him. 

She does get a little heavy handed with the sprinkles, probably more than Solana would approve of, but Roman also knows his daughter. Knows that while she may be on a bit of a sugar rush for a part of the day, when she crashes, she crashes hard. 

She’ll be knocked out for the night when all is said and done, so he’ll just give her the now.

And they sit in the living room, using trays to share their breakfast together, Roman having to ‘force’ her to drink orange juice instead of the chocolate milk she could finish all on her own if left alone.

Kid has a sweet tooth like him.

Grabbing the remote, he asks right as she sticks her fork into her stack of two pancakes, “whatcha’ wanna watch?”

Her eyes squint as she deliberates over this very important question, finally settling on, “Inside Out!”

Roman smiles a little. That was one of his guesses. “Which one?” Of the four films, he knows she doesn’t really have a favorite, but it’s still worth asking.

She lifts her index finger, answering with excitement, “the first!”

Roman nods. “The first it is.” 

Navigating to Disney Plus, selecting Roro’s profile, he hits play on the film that’s already in her watchlist. Settling back on the sofa beside her, the two eat together, Aroha taking time in between bites of food to explain certain things. If she doesn’t end up doing something with animals, he can see her being a teacher. At seven, she’s pretty damn good with explaining stuff. 

Aroha’s adorable giggling is music to his ears as she points at the TV. “That’s you, daddy.” 

Roman looks up at the TV from the phone that he was using to send a quick check-in text to the rest of his family when he’s met with one of the scenes of Anger, well, being angry.

He scowls, disagreeing. “That is not me.”

“Yes, it is,” she laughs, climbing off the sofa and moving in front of him to provide a demonstration. “You get all angry like this,” Roman laughs as Aroha attempts to provide an example of how Roman turns up his face when irritated, disgusted, or….angry. “Kids! Get down here now!” The laughter continues as she clearly tries to mimic him. “Roro! Time for bed! Koa, Kai, time to get off the games! Tama, Lina, Leya, come help bring in these groceries!”

Roman shakes his head as she climbs back on the sofa, on her knees, looking up at him. “That really me?”

Aroha shakes her hand. “Mommy says you can be a grump, but I don’t know what that means.” She finishes with a confused look, shrugging indifferently as she refocuses back on the film. 

Thinking, probably overthinking, about what she said, Roman finds himself hitting the pause button a few minutes later.

She turns to him with a frown. “Daddy?”

“Aroha…..” Roman angles his body toward her. “I know….I get angry sometimes, but you know it’s never at you, right?” Because that’s something Roman has always done his best to be mindful about, not losing his temper with and on his kids. They might frustrate him from time to time, because they’re kids, but he would never want them to be scared of him.

That would kill him.

“I would…..I would never yell at you or your siblings or your mom like that.” It’s a bit difficult for him to explain given her young age, but he has to try. Has to make sure she understands that she’s always safe with him. 

“Daddy, you’re never mean to us.” She says it so sweetly, like she almost can’t believe he would even ask such a thing. “You’re the best daddy ever.”

Feelings. So many feelings. Things he used to shield and shove away like they were something to be embarrassed of. But, falling in love, becoming a parent, it’s all made him realize that there’s nothing wrong with them. They’re normal and okay to have.

And he has a bunch of them festering with such kind, genuine words from his daughter. Roman pulls her into his side, kissing the top of her head. “thanks, kiddo.” It’s all he wants in life. To do right by her. By all of his kids.

By his family.

“You’re welcome, daddy.” She peers up at him, in all of her randomness, asking, “can I do you hair?”

Roman smiles and laughs, not sure where it’s coming from but obliging her, nonetheless. “Sure.”

She cheers and climbs off the sofa, running off, probably to get the ‘supplies.’ He takes the opportunity to check his phone, seeing missed texts from his wife. 

Solana: We’re good, my love. 

Solana: I’d ask how you guys are doing, but it’s not needed.

Solana: She’s with her favorite person. And vice versa. ❤️

Roman chuckles as he types out a reply. 

Roman: I’ll probably take her out in a lil bit.

Roman: Dogs need more food.

Solana: You wanna take her to the pet store with you?

Solana: Well, send me pictures of the latest pets. 😉

Roman shakes his head. 

Roman: I’m not getting her anymore pets, babe.

Solana: Lol. Okay. 🙂

Roman readies to reply and defend himself when Roro comes back in the living room with one of her sparkly backpacks as she directs him to sit on the floor. He climbs down, as Aroha hops on the sofa behind him and gets to work.

He hits play on the movie as she takes his hair down and does a lot of probably unnecessary brushing and combing, all the while explaining her actions. As always, he just lets her do her thing, playing into and supporting her along the way.

They stay like this for the duration of the movie, after which Roman asks the unnecessary question as to if Roro wants to go with him to pick up more food for Coco and Max. It’s a no-brainer, because the way that little girl rushes to get dressed and is ready to go in less than fifteen minutes should be studied.

So, after cleaning the kitchen and Roman throwing something on, he’s out the door with his mini-me who talks almost the entire car drive, not that he minds. He remembers times like this with Leya and Lina.

It goes by so fast. He just wants to enjoy the here and now.

Wants to revel in her being cute and little for as long as he can. 

But, it’s that cuteness that’s about to get him in trouble and eat his words as soon as they’re about to checkout at the pet store when Aroha passes the animals.

The bunnies. 

She gasps, letting go of his hand, rushing over to the small selection. It doesn’t bother him that much, mostly and largely because he had the entire store cleared and has security stationed around the place. Inside and out.

He never takes any chances when it comes to his kids. Especially little Roro.

 “Look, daddy!” Roman walks over, leaving the cart unattended to see the two small bunnies that have caught his daughter’s attention. “They’re so little….”

“They are.” He knows where this is going. Knows exactly where this is going, a part of him wishing he had listened to Solana. Taking her here with him maybe wasn’t the best idea. 

With sadness in her cute little voice, she realizes, “they’re here, because….because they don’t have a home.” 

“Not yet,” he answers, taking her other hand, giving a gentle squeeze. “But, they’ll get one.”

With hopeful eyes, she looks up, asking that question he was dreading. “Can they come home with us?”

Roman shuts his eyes.

Damn.

“Baby…..” He sighs, trying to explain in as calm and gentle voice as possible. “We already have the dogs and Nala.” Nala being the kitten his animal loving child found and rescued, hiding in her room for almost a week before being discovered.

The memory makes him chuckle a bit. That was….something else. 

Aroha’s frown deepens as places her hand up on the glass, looking at them before gazing back at him with those big, sad eyes. Solana’s. She has her mothers eyes. “But, everyone needs a family.”

And it’s that single sentence that seals the deal.

An hour later, Lola and Thumper are the latest additions to the Reigns household, Roman spending more than what was necessary to get all of the supplies Aroha wanted for her latest “little babies.” 

The smile on her face is more than worth it for Roman, however, as he sets everything up in her room for the bunnies. 

And it’s even on her face as she finds him a little later in the day, plopping her body on top of him as she takes a nap, needing a respite before tackling the rest of the day. 

But, it’s as she sleeps peacefully on top of his chest, her little lips partially open, breath escaping and chest moving up and down as she holds onto him that Roman reflects.

47 seconds. 

That’s exactly how long Aroha went without breathing when she was born. 

Roman has really only ever experienced fear a couple times in his life, most of which have revolved around his family. His wife. His children.

But, the day that Aroha was born, the minute Solana welcomed her into the world and instead of being met with the sound of their daughter's wails, thus officially making her grand entrance into the world......they were met with silence.

Aroha didn’t cry. She didn’t cry, because she wasn’t breathing.

And it’s those 47 seconds that stretched and felt like fucking hours as the labor team went to work on their not even a full five minutes old daughter.

Roman will never forget the sheer terror that set in the minute Solana realized what was happening. “She’s not breathing.” With her medical background, it was both an easy and horrifying thing to realize. “Why—why isn’t she breathing? Something’s wrong.”

The reason, that they would find out later, being something called Birth Asphyxia. The cause having something to do with Solana not having enough oxygen in her blood during childbirth. To this day, he doesn’t truly understand fully. But, at that time, he wasn’t concerned with why his daughter wasn’t breathing.

He just wanted her to be okay.

Aroha was rushed to the NICU where she received the best care money could buy, including some type of whole body “cooling” treatment that was apparently significant in her care. But, at seven days old, they conducted an MRI that revealed slight brain damage. As a result, Aroha received early intervention PT and OT, which was something Roman didn’t even know existed until then for such a young child. 

However, it was effective, because while Roman and Solana were advised Aroha may need to continue therapy up until her first few years of her life, their fighter of a daughter ended up beating the odds, cleared and meeting all milestones on time by five months of age.

It was the biggest relief and blessing they could have ever asked for, but Roman can and will never forget the devastation he felt trying to comfort Solana as they had to return home without their baby girl. It was rough, trying to spend as much time in the NICU with her while still being available and present for their other children.

The day they finally got to bring her home remains one of the happiest days of his life.

And now, at age seven, she’s a happy, healthy child who continues to not only meet all milestones but presents with intelligence that bypasses what’s expected for her age.

But, most importantly, she’s alive.

And that’s why Roman knows and is well aware of the fact that he might let Aroha get away with some things she shouldn’t, agrees to things that he doesn’t have to, says yes when he maybe should no.

The thing, however, is that none of that could be an option. It could not be an option because she couldn’t be here right now.

She could have died, but she didn’t. His little girl is a fighter, and he’ll always love her just a little bit harder just because of it. 

Grabbing his phone, careful not to disturb her, Roman sends Solana the picture Roro used his phone to take of her "babies."

He then adds the caption.

Roman: She named them Thumper and Lola.

Solana texts back not even five minutes later.

Solana: 😂😂😂😂

Solana: Told you.

Solana: They are cute......

Roman: I guess.

He can practically see his wife rolling her pretty eyes through the phone.

Solana: But, you know we're gonna have to get the boys those lizards now, right?

He does, and while he's not exactly thrilled about it, he knows it's the right thing to do. Knows that it's unfair to grant Aroha's wish, but not Koa and Kai.

Roman knows all too well what it's like to feel like the less favored of his siblings, and he'll be damned if any of his kids will feel that way.

Ever.

Roman: I know. I'll take them next weekend.

Solana: Good.

Solana: Girls said to tell they love you. I love you too. ❤️ Give my baby a kiss for me.

Roman: Love ya'll too. I will. ❤️

Roman sets his phone back down on his nightstand and chuckles as Aroha adjust herself on top of him, smacking her little lips a little as she sighs in her sleep.

Roman kisses the top of her head, one arm around her, holding her closer for as long as he can.

[elysianightsss]

Regency Price thot🌹🤍

I am working on Limerence and Part two of both mountain man and the pen pal au by popular demand. But while you wait for me to write those please enjoy this lovely Viscount John Price and his Viscountess.

Price sat waiting patiently, newspaper in hands reading the latest gossip of the ton. “Aristocrats.” He scoffed low under his breath. Being one of the wealthiest, best-connected members of the middle class came with privileges but too much gossip as far a Price was concerned. Unless it directly affected him he couldn’t care less.

The doors to the dining room opened and in walked a butler, white curly wig on top of his head, his hands wringing together in nervousness as he looked at his master. “Well?” Price asked without looking away from his newspaper, an interesting snippet about a whistle or a lady down or something or other caught his eye.

“My Lord she..” the lack of answer was beginning to agitate him, he rolled up the paper and slammed it on the table, finally making eye contact with the butler.

“What?” Price snapped.

“She doesn’t seem to be here My Lord.” He said, gulping with unease clear in his voice.

“One of the horses is gone too.” A maid had said a little too loudly as she rushed into the room with the important information. Everyone in the room cringed, each and every servent, perhaps at this point even the entire ton, knows if the Viscountess and one of the horses are missing, someone will either be fired or end up in the hospital.

A wave a darkness crashed through the room as John growled out “Find me who by the time I’m back from retrieving my wife.” His orders were clear as crystal as he rushed from the room, Simon, his number two following swiftly after him.

“My horse Simon.” John grunted pulling out his pocket watch from his jacket. After years of being married to you, he always knew exactly where to find you based on the time of day it was or day of the week.

You thrived in order and schedules, one of the many things that he loved about you. Loved knowing he didn’t have to worry where you’d be at eleven in the morning. Always the drawing room catching up the on stitching you’ve been putting off, frustrated when the cross stitch didn’t form the absolute way you wanted it to.

Simon, ever the loyal to a fault number two replied quickly and lowly, “Yes Viscount.” He began to rush ahead of John making it to the stables before him and barking orders at the stable boys to fetch the masters horse and saddle. Price didn’t bother with riding clothes or shoes, simply latching his everyday boot into the stirrup and hoisting himself up into his horse.

“Shall I follow My Lord?” Simon asked head bowed as usual.

“If you wish.” John didn’t stick around after that, whipping his reigns and taking off on the beautiful brown stallion. “Come on boy, we’ve not got long before it rains!” John shouted to his horse as if the creature actually understood him, though in his fear he did not care.

The looks of the sky had him worried, the last time you went riding in the rain you caught pneumonia. He remembers how you shivered, how you were covered in sweat yet cold and how you burned to the touch. He never wishes to see you that way again. These thoughts had him pushing his horse harder to get to you faster. By the cherry tree you should be, and oh does he hope you are.

You however had just become done with your rage fit and were about to leave. Stupid Miss Carmichael, one of the bitchiest women in the ton. Not even married and yet she had the gall to mock you about not getting around to giving John a child yet. Joking about possible infertility, the words made you sick as did her audacity.

You had been married to your husband two years now and yes you were yet to bore him a child. Though the first year of your marriage, due to it being a simple arrangement, you spent it away from him. Always avoiding him, even on your wedding night you locked yourself in your room.

Though finally he managed to get you to open up to him, taught you many things, you began to love him. He had loved you however since the first moment he saw you. More so when you had advertently put him in his place after he was rude to a servant.

You had spent the second year, still getting to know each other and becoming one as husband and wife didn’t happen until three months ago. It had been essentially two years of little innocent hand touches here and there, longing looks and John standing too close to you at balls and events just so he could feel your warmth and smell your scent for longer. You were both still making up for lost time, having children was not at the forefront of your minds. Well not yours anyway.

You sighed glancing at the horse you’d rode here on, you’d best get back to join John for breakfast was your first thought. Even though it would take barely a minute for him to see you were upset and demand who had made you that way. You didn’t need to put your burden on him as much as he always insisted that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do as his wife.

Blinking up at the sky, you saw rain clouds rolling in and started to feel the drizzle of water falling down from above. Then a clap of thunder and you instantly regretted your decision to ride out here after your awful interaction with Miss Carmichael earlier. “Wonderful.” You sighed annoyed as you pulled your cloak hood over your head and made your way back to the black horse waiting patiently for you. One last look at the cherry tree and you set off into the eye of the storm.

“That’s it girl yah!” You whipped your reigns, both feet tight in the stirrups. You never rode side saddle like most women do, preferring to ride properly. Just as the cherry tree was almost out of a view, the most spectacular sight came bounding toward you. Your husband Viscount John Price gallantly riding his brown steed toward you.

“Darling!” His yell was so quiet in the midst of the rain and thunder, though it was enough to have you stopping your horse and remaining stationary as he began to slow down the closer to you he got.

Pulling on the reigns John came to a halt, horses next to one another legs touching. “Before you say anything,” you began blinking up at your handsome husband who was staring down at you heatedly, he nods encouraging you to go on. “It wasn’t raining when I started riding.”

You give him a smile, and despite the fact that you’re wet through, chilled to the bone, and as far as John is concerned in desperate need of a hot bath, he thinks you’re the most beautiful sight to behold. He smiles back leaning in close to you until his nose brushes against yours, his strong hand coming up to cup your jaw as he whispers into your mouth, looking you dead in the eyes.

“I’m not mad my love, but make no mistake, once you’re warm and dry I plan to bend you over my desk and fuck you from behind. Keep you stuffed with my cum all day, then you can tell me the reason for your riding today and who I need to talk to.”

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Hello :)

I would like to know if you know who is behind the horrible false accusation against Marie Antoinette regarding her son. We know that Hébert presented the testimony in the revolutionary tribunal, and although he bears responsibility for it, I don't think he was alone in fabricating this false testimony.

While it is hard to know for sure exactly whose idea it was to make incest a charge against Marie-Antoinette, these are all the people involved in obtaining the information needed that I’ve been able to track:

When giving his testimony during Marie-Antoinette’s trial, Hébert claimed this ”fact” had been discovered by Antoine Simon, Louis-Charles’ caretaker in the Temple, who then told him, alongside mayor of Paris Jean-Nicolas Pache and prosecutor of the Paris Commune Pierre-Gaspard Chaumette, about it (cited in Histoire parlementaire de la Révolution française, volume 29, page 355-356):

…He (Hébert) adds that Simon having informed him that he had something important to communicate to him, he went to the Temple accompanied by the mayor and the prosecutor of the Commune. There they received a declaration from the young Capet, from which it was revealed that at the time of Louis Capet's flight to Varennes, La Fayette was one of those who had contributed the most to facilitating it; that for this purpose they had spent the night at the castle; that during their stay at the Temple, the inmates had continued for a long time to be informed of what was happening outside; that correspondence was sent to them in clothes and shoes. The little Capet named thirteen people as those who had partly cooperated in maintaining these intelligences, that one of them having locked him and his sister in a turret, he heard him telling his mother: I will get you the means of finding out the news by everyday sending a peddler to shout the evening newspaper nearby. Finally, young Capet, whose physical constitution each day was deteriorating, was discovered by Simon [while engaging] in indecent pollutions that were fatal to his temperament; that the latter having asked him who had taught him this criminal practice, he replied that it was to his mother and his aunt that he was indebted for the knowledge of this fatal habit. From the declaration, observes the deponent, that the young Capet made, in the presence of the mayor of Paris and the prosecutor of the Commune, it follows that these two women often made him sleep between the two of them, that he there committed acts of the most unbridled debauchery; that there was not even any doubt, from what fils Capet said, that there had been an incestuous act between mother and son. There is reason to believe that this criminal enjoyment was not dictated by pleasure, but rather by the political hope of annoying the physique of this child, who one still liked to believe was destined to occupy a throne, and whose morale one wanted by this maneuver to ensure the right to reign over while, by the efforts that one made him make, he remained attacked by a descent, for which it was necessary to put a bandage on this child; and ever since he no longer lives with his mother he has regained a robust and vigorous temperament.

The letter where Simon asks Hébert to come over to the Temple has been conserved and can be found cited in volume 1 of Histoire du tribunal révolutionnaire de Paris : avec le journal de ses actes (1880) by Henri Wallon:

The republican Simon to the patriot and damn patriotic Father Duchesne, The Temple, 30 September 1793, year II of the Republic one and indivisible Hello. Come quickly, my friend, I have things to tell you and would feel a lot of pleasure seeing you. Try to come today, you will always find in me a frank and brave republican.

Louis-Charles’ declaration, made on October 6 1793, can in its turn be found cited in Procès des Bourbons (1798). Besides Louis, Simon, Pache, Chaumette and Hébert, the document has been signed by Frery and Seguy, commissioners of the temple, Heousée, police administrator, and Laurant, council commissioner. According to The Dauphin (Louis XVII) (1921) by G. Lenotre, Louis-Charles’ signature is very clumsily written when compared to the handwriting in his schoolbooks, opening the door to the possibility his interrogators had threatened him or made him drunk in order to get him to put his name on the paper:

…He declared to them, furthermore, that having been surprised several times in his bed by Simon and his wife, charged with watching over him by the commune, committing indecency on himself that was harmful to his health, he admitted to them that he had been instructed in these very pernicious habits by his mother and his aunt, and that different times they had amused themselves by seeing him repeat the practices in front of them, and that very often this took place when they made him lie down between them. From the way the child explained himself, he made us understand that once his mother made him approach her; it resulted in copulation and a swelling in one of his testicles, as said by the citoyenne Simon, for which he wears a bandage, and that his mother recommended him to never speak of it: that this act had been repeated several times since.

In the same work we also find the interrogation held with Louis’ sister Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte the following day. She was then among other things asked ”if, when playing with her brother, he did not touch her where he didn’t get to touch her; if one didn’t make her brother jump on a blanket, and if his mother and aunt hadn’t made him sleep between them?” Thérèse responded with a no. The protocol then documents the following:

We immediately called for Charles Capet, and invited him to tell us if what he said yesterday, regarding the touching of his person, was true? [He] persisted in what he had said, repeated and maintained it in front of his sister, and persisted in saying that it was the truth. Asked a second time to state whether this was indeed true, he replied yes, it is true; his sister claimed to never have seen it.

This document is signed by Jacques-Louis David, Pache, Chaumette, Heussé, Laurent and Danjou. The same people plus one Séguy also signed the interrogation of Madame Élisabeth held the very same day. The childrens’ aunt was she too questioned about the incest:

Has she read Charles' statement, regarding the indecencies mentioned in the document, dated the 15th of this month? Responded that a similar infamy is too far below and too far away from her to be able to respond to it; that moreover the child had had this habit for a long time; and that he must remember that she and his mother scolded him for it several times. Charles was asked to explain on this subject: he attested that he had told the truth. She read the rest of Charles' statement on the same subject, in which he persisted, adding that he did not remember the times, but that it happened frequently. She said that as it only concerns her, she will not respond to it any more than to the rest; she believes that her conduct must protect her from suspicion. Charles asked to declare who had first instructed him in this practice. The two together. Did it happen during the day or during the night? He doesn’t remember, but he thinks it was in the morning.

The secretary who wrote the interrogations down was one Daujon. His colleague, the municipal officer Goret, wrote that he had told him the following about the incident (cited in The last days of Marie-Antoinette (1907) by G. Lenotre):

It was this same Daujon who was acting as secretary when the young prince was subjected, in the Temple, to an examination on the subject of the slanderous and infamous statements that had been circulated with in regards to the Queen. Here, word for word, is what Daujon told me on the subject of that examination, and I may say that I considered him a man worthy of belief. The young prince, he told me, was seated in an armchair, swinging his little legs; for his feet did not reach the ground. He was examined as to the statements in question, and was asked if they were true: he answered in the affirmative. Instantly Madame Elizabeth, who was present, cried out: ”Oh, the monster!” As for me, added Daujon, I could not regard this answer as coming from the child himself, for his air of uneasiness and his general bearing inclined me to believe that it was a suggestion emanating from someone else, — the effect of his fear of punishment or ill treatment, with which he may have been threatened if he failed to comply. I fancy that Madame Elizabeth cannot really have been deceived either, but that her surprise at the child's answer wrung that exclamation from her.

[givemeonereason]

Meditations: First Friend

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Photo Credit: Pinterest

Dragon Ball Masterlist Givemeonereason Masterlist

Rating: Angst

Plot: Piccolo has been missing and you’re the doing the actual missing. A friendly police officer seeks out to try and help you recover the missing link.

A/N: It’s about time I bring some other fellow DBZ characters into this.

They all interlink and play a part in each others lives. Also, this just felt like a very nice way to tie everything together.

I hope to bring at least one more character in during the next installment.

Don’t worry too much. We might see a reunion very soon.

╒══════════════════════╕

You looked for him out the window of your office those next few days hoping to see the white of his cape fluttering in the wind. However, he was never there. No matter how many time you check, and all the different times of the day, nothing.

Two weeks had passed and not one sighting.

You sat down in the company-provided ergonomic, rolling desk chair. It spun to the side. You let your feet dangle there limp.

The alien documentaries and fictional programs you've tried watching by way of research haven't really given you any closure. They just made you more frustrated considering that your alien, Piccolo isn't anything like they portray. It doesn't even give you any sense of how to get him back either. As far as you knew, there wasn't a spaceship to seen. At least, you didn't see one.

Is he really gone forever?

If you could just go back in time and change the outcome of what happened before. The day he carried you through the skies and you cried.

I'm not scared anymore.

I was caught off guard is all.

During your lunch break, you treaded up the hillside to where he usually sat. You could imagine him there still as a board with his eyes closed.

You stood there listening to the sound of the passing cars below and the birds above. You looked up to the sky searching for a place someone could fly to. And there was nothing.

"Piccolo!" No hesitation in your shout. "Piccolo, where are you?"

Someone on the sidewalk below stopped and looked up toward you. Some crazy lady screaming from a hilltop for her lost woodwind instrument? What on earth are they cooking these days?

My green alien guy.

You took out your phone and went to the internet and key searched "alien Piccolo." You saw lots of information regarding King Piccolo and his reign of tyranny and the World Martial Arts Tournament.

King Piccolo does greatly resemble the Piccolo you know. However, your Piccolo has softer features overall, but the sharp angles of his jawline and the point of his ears make him rather handsome. In an alien sort of way, handsome nonetheless.

"Excuse me, Miss." There was a gentle voice behind you. You pressed the screen of your phone against your chest hoping that whoever was standing there didn't see you staring down at the evil Namekian. It's not as if you were really looking at him, but rather imagining someone else.

"Yes?" You turned on a heel to address the voice standing behind you. You looked and saw no one at first, then your eyes darted down to see a concerned face.

When your eyes met his, he reached out a hand toward you. "Hello Miss, I'm Officer Krillin. I'm with the local police. There was a report of a woman shouting at the top of this hill searching for something. Are you alright? What is it that you're looking for? I can help you."

You closed your eyes and let out a deep sigh from within your chest. "What I'm looking for isn't here anymore." You glanced up towards the sky, the white fluffy clouds spread across the horizon. There was a longing in your eyes, the way you lingered subtly before looking back down at the man before you and smiled. "I'm sorry to have worried you."

There is little to no point in trying to explain this to the police. What are you going to say, there is this alien named Piccolo that I met here and I don't know how to get in touch with him now. He's tall and wears a cape. Claims to be a Namekian. Like the police would know, or even care about that. The best outcome would most likely be institutionalism. They'll lock you in a padded room with nothing to eat but porridge and if you're lucky jello. At least that is the worst-case scenario, right?

You took a step forward to walk down the hillside, but the officer stopped you. "The concerned citizen claimed you were looking for an instrument. That you were yelling out towards the valley." He was looking down at his notepad. He pulled a pen from his pocket, pushing the top with a click, he jotted down another note. "I am going to need to file a follow-up report. Do you think you could tell me more about this, please?"

You didn't say anything at first. You called this. You knew if you opened your mouth it was all over. How could you word this in a way that didn't make you sound crazy? "Let's say I lost my piccolo." You sighed once more before continuing. "I haven't been able to find it in some time. I came to see it-- play it here on this hillside."

The man took diligent notes. "And do you think you can describe what this piccolo looked like? I'm not sure I've ever seen one up close and personal. Are there any particular identifiers?"

Raspberry. I'm not really a fan of the raspberry jello. If anything I hope I'll get the pineapple. Refreshing.

Well, this could go two ways.

I could speak vaguely about the actual Piccolo and confuse this man.

I could just be plain and say a regular piccolo that you rented from a nearby instrument shop.

Neither of them sounds the least bit good. So you chose to go for the first.

No wait, lime. Yes, it's green. Green like..

"It's green, white and purple. It's a custom, limited edition instrument."

"Green, white, purple." He recited back. "Okay. I'm going to have a look around the area to see if I come up with anything. I will take down your number as a follow-up."

Officer Krillin walked down the side of the hill with you. He jotted down your phone number on his notepad. "Don't worry miss, I'll do my best."

You smiled at him, your eyes hiding the hopelessness there. "Thank you, officer." You knew this would be a fruitless endeavor, yet you had to play your part. You waved goodbye before you walked back into the office building. Somehow you completely forgot you had to work for a living.

═══════════════════

Officer Krillin walked around the area, rummaging through the brush on the side of the road and looking into divots in the hillside.

He kept looking down at his notepad, repeating the notion over and over as he scouted the area.

“Green, white and purple…Green, white and purple….”

He stood on the sidewalk and scratched at his temple. “A piccolo that is green, white and purple.” He looked online at a photo of what a piccolo looked like. “Okay, so it’s little green, white and purple then. Just like this picture. Little, green, white and purple.”

He crossed the street and looked in the grass on the opposite side of the street. “Little, green, white and purple. Little, green…little green…..hmmmm.”

He stopped in his tracks, squinting his eyes as the wheels turned inside of his brain. “Little, green. Dende? I wonder how that little guy is doing? Okay, Krillin, she was talking about a piccolo. Little, green, white….piccolo…..PICCOLO!” He exploded. He laughed loudly at this own realization.

He walked back to his motorbike planning to go back to the station and investigate this further. “Now, I have been wrong before, but I just have a hunch she’s talking about our Piccolo. The real question is, how does she know Piccolo?”

His mind wondered how such a brute like him would come into contact with such a beautiful woman like you, let alone she was looking for him as if she wanted to see him again for some reason. It perplexed him.

Though, he pulled himself a hottie himself so anything is possible. If 18 could hear his thoughts now she would laugh, but she also chose him.

But what if there is business with Piccolo? What if something is wrong? She was yelling as the report was written.

He rode faster towards the station where he dropped off his bike and headed for the roof of the manciple building. “Well, there is only one way to find out.” He shot up into the air, flying straight for the lookout.

When he landed on the platform Mr. Popo was diligently pruning his garden. He paid no mind to Krillin as he hummed an offbeat tune to himself.

Dende rushed up to meet Krillin. The smiles across each other's faces were as wide as the horizon beyond the lookout. "Wow, Dende, you've grown so much! You're so much taller than me!"

Dende laughed and reached out to embrace the smaller man in front of him. "How are you? How is everyone?"

"We're all good." He nodded his head. He posed with a thumbs up. "I didn't come here to worry you. I was wondering where Piccolo was?"

Dende turned and pointed towards the building behind him. "I saw him inside."

"Thank you little green." He started off towards the entrance. He could hear Dende over his shoulder, a tinge of irritation in his voice. "Not little....."

"Piccolo?" Krillin called out as he walked the halls in search of the, he looked back down at his notepad again, limited edition, green, white, and purple, piccolo.

Piccolo walked through the threshold of a room meeting Krillin in the hallway. "Thank kami I found you." Krillin laughed, his hand behind his head.

Piccolo looked down at Krillin sternly. It's not always good news when he meets with Krillin. Sudden visits never indicate anything by trouble.

"Hey Piccolo, funny enough, I've been looking for you for hours." Krillin laughed once more. His cheeks red reminiscing at his own cleverness as a police officer. To some, it's might only be considered luck.

Piccolo tensed where he stood. His whole body became rigid. Though you would never be able to tell with his powerful aura. He braced himself for whatever was coming next. Something wrong with Pan? A new enemy?

"So Piccolo, you might not believe this, but I met a woman today who I think is looking for you."

When Piccolo's narrowed eyes didn't soften and he didn't respond, Krillin continued. "It's kind of a funny story actually. Someone came into the station and said there was a woman on a nearby hillside screaming out about a piccolo. I went to see her and she described what the....." Piccolo was already walking away from Krillin before Krillin even realized he was gone.

"Wait, Piccolo!" His small stature only giving him minimal distance towards the Namakian. "Piccolo! I think she's looking for you." Krillin caught up to him. "Do you think that woman meant you? She said the piccolo was green, white and purple." He pointed towards him. "Man, that fits you to a T. But I just don't know why?" Piccolo walks into a room that befits a lofty office. Krillin followed him into the room, stopping short of the large table strewn with books on it. "Why does she care so much about you?"

Piccolo's fist comes down hard on the table. The books quiver about the violent vibration. His voice is deep and pointed. "Would you give it a rest?"

Krillin takes a step backward. "Woah, man, I just thought there is no way what she said was a coincidence." He laughed with his whole chest. "In all seriousness, she did look worried. She said she lost it, well, you."

Piccolo turned away from Krillin. "Leave me be."

Krillin stood quietly for a moment. "What do I tell her then?"

"I don't care what you tell her," Piccolo responded flatly.

Krillin narrowed his eyes, and he felt a sudden sadness wash over him. "Oh."

He walked towards the door and turned back to look towards the Namakian. "Did something happen between you two?"

Piccolo barely looked back over his shoulder. He chose to only look at Krillin through his peripheral. "Even if she does want to see me..." He looked back forward, walking towards the bookshelf against an adjacent wall. "I don't think I can face her after what I did."

Krillin seeing an opening, "just go down and-"

"No."

His shoulders dropped. "Why?"

"I told you to leave me be." He closed the book with a snap.

“I—“

Piccolo whipped around, his cheeks reddened with anger, his chin tilted downward, and his eyes narrowed. He roared at Krillin. “LEAVE!” Which made Krillin witness his life flash before his eyes.

Krillin took off out of the room. A steady push lifted his feet into the air as he took off down towards the ground.

A slew of emotions rippling over him. Mostly the lack of answers leading his confusion.

I haven’t seen Piccolo so worked up in a long time. Why now, and why that woman?

╘══════════════════════╛

© 2024 givemeonereason

Don’t steal other people’s works! Respect creators!

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[queenhunter102]

Part 20

Hello, Apologies for the lateness of part twenty, as it took me some time as I wanted to decide how I wanted this chapter to end and how I wanted it to continue, and I know this chapter isn't four thousand words Like I said, but I decided to create four chapters out of it, as I wanted to explore where the story could go, but anyways please do enjoy the this chapter.

Kyle huffed as he dodged a fist that came from behind him it clenched tight “Pass these out Gaz” Simon said barely giving Kyle the time to catch whatever it was into his hand before his hand disappeared as quickly as it came.

Once Kyle had caught the items he looked at them finding them to be little black ear pieces “Oh man why have they given us the shitty ones” he mutters as he passes them out to you and Johnny, you look at him confused as you slip your bud in, listening to it crackle into a frequency.

“That’s shite,” Johnny said, as he put his in you watched as he winced as the frequency hit his ears “Och Cap’ is there any need for the freq,” he asked as he pulled at his ear trying to lessen the irritation from the frequency.

“Captain Wells is holding the good stuff hostage until we either trade Ven or we get rid of Ven and since I don’t believe in caving to tyrants or trading flesh for goods, we’re stuck with this” John said as he drove, the boys grumble clearly a little annoyed at Wells.

“Where is Alejandro?” you ask, as you pull any strands of hair that may have got trapped between your ear and the piece, Johnny and Kyle went silent their eyes flicking between themselves and then you, before they slightly turned their heads to look at Simon and John over their shoulder.

“He was having medical issues, So he’s back at the base while it gets investigated further, but don’t worry he’s handling the coms and the camera,” Simon said, you nodded your head before your earpiece crackled and Alejandro’s voice came over “Is a sweet omega missing me?” he asked, his voice sounding rough and out of breath.

“Hardly just making sure you weren’t dead or anything” came Simon’s rough reply, You watched as John and Kyle tried to hide their smiles and choked laughs, with their hands as they fiddled with their gear.

“What is this mission about Cap I know it’s mostly recon?” you ask, as you slide to the edge of your seat “It’s simple Venom, there is some research that was stolen and we are to recover and if we can destroy what we can,” John said, as the vehicle made a sharp turn.

“Do we know, what we are looking for?” Johnny asked, as he turned his head to the front “Not as of right now, we will receive more information once we reach base” Simon responded.

“Base? I thought this was going to be a quick mission” you said, as you watched Kyle play with his uniform, “Like I said Captain Wells won’t give us good missions” John said, as the vehicle came to a stop, Johnny and Kyle grumble as the climb out of the car, “Great we get shitty cots and we got an omega to care for” Kyle muttered.

“HEY!” You called back, “I take offence to that" you shout “Sorry Ven, it was hard enough to keep you safe with Alpha we knew let alone ones who have gone possible months without contact from outside their moon pack” Kyle says, as he walks to the boot of the vehicle.

You grumbled as you followed him “So? there was no need to pick on my status” You said as you helped pull out bags, You jumped a little when John’s hand clasped your shoulder, “He’s right Venom, we gotta keep a tighter reign on you now” he said, as he picked up his bag, you grumbled at the mention of being on a tighter reign, they talk as if you were free roaming the first place.

The five of you make your way into the small base, you eye a few of the tents that are dotted around the small area, feeling like thousands of eyes have found their way to and are devouring you at every opportunity, you turn your head to a tent furthest away from the lot only to see a flash of…well something dart back inside of the tent, you shifted your shoulders a little.

feeling uneasy was common for an omega, especially around alphas they didn’t know, nor were they a part of their packs, But this was abnormal it looked as though the place was deserted, Johnny pulled you closer to him wrapping an arm over your shoulder almost like he could sense your discomfort and your worry, then again he probably could, he was one of two who were the most attentive, with you.

As the group marched deeper and deeper into the base Kyle pulled up beside John, whispering something to him before turning his head to you, Simon and Johnny, John nodded his head as he came to a stop turning to you, his voice barely above a whisper “You got something to hide your scent?” he asked, his hands digging into your pockets “I’m wearing my patch does that cover-” you were cut off by Kyle his voice a little strained “No, you still smell like an omega an un-rutted omega but still an omega” he said, as he dropped his bag and pulled out a shirt from his bag and tossing it at you.

You snatched it pulling it close trying desperately to resist the urge to swim in his smell “Wrap that around your waist under your shirt quick” He said as he fixed his bag back onto his shoulders, you quickly followed his instructions tying the shirt around your waist and pulling your shirt back down, “I don’t think-” Johnny begins to say before he was cut off by a much deeper and growler voice.

“Captain John Price and his little team of misfits I never thought I would see you on one of my bases after what happened last time” the voice had said, you looked up to find a tall lanky man who appeared to be in his late thirties if not early forties, the hair slowly greying from it’s natural brown, skin mottled from different tans, as well as a few bruises some looking a little fresher than the others, “Sargent Evans, When did they let you out of nomads?” John asked as he walked closer to the man.

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Part 19 / Part 21

See you around, my little loves.

Kissess.

[xreaderbooks]

All I breathe (3)

Pair: Azriel x Vanserra Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Language and violence

Summary: Y/n and the shadowsinger travel across the Winter Court and finally arrives at the Autumn Court.

A/N: The monster is a mixture of a yeti and that one snow monster from the first frozen movie. Also, one line, in particular, was taken from a scene in twilight. Send me a message or comment if you'd like to be tagged.

Available on Wattpad and AO3

Masterlist - Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

After a quick breakfast with Nuan, the High Lord still not present, you said your goodbyes. Azriel was around, hidden in the shadows. You didn’t comprehend why he didn’t come out at all during breakfast and how he thought he was being discreet, you felt his shadows creeping behind your neck. When he finally revealed himself to say his thanks and goodbyes properly, he had given you a death stare and a nod to get going.

Hours felt like days that felt like months that felt like years-

Azriel had not failed to make this time utterly unbearable. Once you both had winnowed separately (still not willing to touch each other), you had met at a specific location at a specific time to avoid certain creatures that were sure to be lurking about.

You had proved to be more of a hindrance than help from the first point where you had agreed to meet, you didn’t know what to blame it on. Whether it was that you didn’t recognize what area you were in or if you had gotten disorientated but you had gotten yourself trapped.

“Honestly, and you called yourself a spy.” Azriel sneered coming out of nowhere, one slice of truth-teller and he released you from the entanglement of the net you accidentally winnowed in.

“My skills pertained to people and getting information out of them without having any blood on my hands- a more social approach.” Not entirely true but he didn’t need to know that. You dusted yourself off from the fall to the ground.

“So you were a whore.” The audacity of this man, so the dinner last night had meant nothing in improving the status of your acquaintance. Good to know, you thought to yourself.

“Maybe you should be the one who doesn't speak of what you don’t know, Shadowsinger.” You repeated the words he spoke to you the other morning, alerting him of the nerve he struck.

“Very creative, Firewielder” He sheathed his dagger. “It’s a wonder you got anywhere with people considering everything that comes out of your mouth is absolute-”

He paused, his eyes wild in search of something you couldn’t see. You impatiently urged him to continue, “Well? Let’s hear it then, everything that comes out of my mouth is wh-” Your shouts were muffled by his gloved hand. He had shoved you against a tree, his shadows appeared to be warning him of something.

You realized the closeness of the situation and didn’t like it one bit. While he was distracted by whatever intruder was nearby, you bit him. He didn’t so much as let out a noise when he released you from his hold and pushed you to the snowy ground. You pictured stabbing him in the neck repeatedly, it managed to calm you down.

“Fucking asshole,” You insulted him in a hushed tone. “What the hell was that?”

“There are scouts spread around the border,” His shadows stretched wide in search. “No doubt they heard you struggling.”

One curious shadow reached toward you as if wanting to help you up. You fought the urge to run your fingers through them as you rose from your spot. The amount of power you had to have to have dark wispy figures whisper all kinds of information, a constant watch. It was fascinating. Azriel didn’t like you but it seemed like his shadows did. He reigned it in, sensing one of them go astray.

“I’m ready to go when you are,” You squared your shoulders. He shook his head, “No.”

You furrowed your brows, “No?”

He grabbed a hold of your bicep and suddenly you were in a cave, hidden in the darkness, Azriel’s shadows shielding you from the light as you witnessed Winter Court soldiers attempting to fight off a giant monster made of snow. They were losing.

“We have to help them,” You whispered. A soldier screamed as he got thrown to the mountains above you.

“Not our problem.”

It was like the monster had heard you, it let out a deep roar that shook your bones. It ran on its two legs in your direction. It picked off each soldier one by one until they were all gone.

“Shit,” Your flight or fight skills urged you to run deeper into the cave, maybe the height of the monster and its thickness wouldn’t allow it to pass. Swiftly, Azriel tackled you and rolled you both out of the cave, successfully dodging the large snowy arm that reached into where you were just standing. You exhaled and looked up at Azriel whose body was shielding you from the attack.

His eyes met yours in silent question, are you alright? you gave a slight nod.

The monster caught sight of your new position and roared in anger. Azriel pushed himself off of you and unsheathed his dagger once again, immediately in a fighting stance. You summoned your flames, you felt them though they were not in full power, it would have to be enough for this fight. One hand had held a ball of fire, you now regretted not bringing along your bow and arrows, this was supposed to be a diplomatic mission.

“Y/n!” Azriel shouted to you in warning, and a spare dagger flew in your direction. Your reflexes caught it faster than your mind did. The hilt landed in your hand, now you were prepared. The shadowsinger flew into the air and swiped at the snow monster, once-twice, he sunk his blade into the monster and managed to drag truth-teller down its back. Nothing.

“It’s impenetrable,” Azriel growled as he attempted to shrink his dagger deeper and lower. Your mind whirled in a calculation, and it suddenly clicked, a tale you read once about the monsters that lived deep into the mountains of the Winter Court.

The name of the monster would not come to mind but what you did know was the skin was covered by deep layers of snow and ice. Finally, you thought, this would be a way to prove how useful you could be. With your powers, you could melt away its defenses to strike skin and blood.

You outstretched both your hands, willing all the heat to come to them, once you felt like your hands were overflowing with the desire to explode within you- you let out a fiery blast.

“Are you insane?” You heard Azriel’s furious tone as he flew beside you. He had almost become a victim to your flame, you trusted he would move out of the way in time.

“I’ll keep aiming my fire at him and when I tell you, you go in for the kill.”

Azriel’s face gave away the lack of faith, but you were going to die trying to run away from it.“What makes you think that it’ll work?”

“You’re just gonna have to trust me,” You tilted your head side to side, cracking your neck. The creature lunged for you. You tucked in your neck and rolled to the left behind a large tree, you took a deep breath in. You sent a silent prayer to the mother that you were right.

Azriel was in the sky, distracting the monster, probing and stabbing at it. He maneuvered with ease around it, like an annoying mosquito, you thought. You smirked and snapped into action. You aimed at the same spot where Azriel had dragged his knife earlier. You held out both of your hands, grounding your feet into the snow. The heat in your hands exalted steam against the frozen air. With the right timing, you released your power onto the spine of the monster, your fire melted the snow right off, the first layer gone.

You pushed, your teeth grinding as you were about to reach your limit trying to melt off the second layer of ice. You could see the last layer of thick dark grey skin. The monster wailed in pain. “Now!”

Azriel followed your order though you knew he was still mentally fuming about how you fired at him. He held truth-teller high with both hands, then descended with high speed down directly at the spot you cleared.

~~~

You and Azriel agreed to winnow a little further into the winter court before continuing your trek to Autumn. He had not spoken a word to you after you had instructed him to strike at the appropriate time, the monster had bled and died. You and Azriel winnowed a couple of miles deeper into the woods, not wanting to be associated with the murder of the soldiers.

“Show a little gratitude- I just saved our asses,” You were panting from the strength it took to burn the creature.

“I’m supposed to thank you for doing your job?” Azriel asked distastefully. “Get over yourself.”

You exhale deeply, a rumble in your chest arises and you barely notice how your body is shaking from the burnout. The fire that normally sat in your veins couldn’t keep you warm anymore and the small cloth (the cloak that was thick enough for any other court) draped over your shoulders isn’t enough to protect you from the cold.

Azriel sighs and spreads his wing out nodding for you to come close. His insinuation made you roll your eyes and walk a little bit faster. You clutched your cloak closer to yourself, shivering and teeth chattering. You couldn’t care less if it made you seem weaker in Azriel’s eyes. He would find some way to judge and talk you down either way.

You spent a full 20 minutes before you were panting, your warm breath coming out in puffs from the winter air. You found yourself shifting closer to him instinctively. Soon enough you were by his arm, he wrapped his wing around you in silence. You sighed and looked up to the sky, thanking whoever, for some semblance of warmth.

Azriel kept you tucked into his side all the way to when you recognized how close you were, no comment was made of your inability to withstand the cold.

Eventually, he had spoken, “We’re going to need to discuss what will happen going in.” He said.

“We travel by foot and going in I will bend the light to hide you,” Your teeth chattered a little less than earlier but still audible while you speak. You stepped away from the comfort of his warmth, commanding yourself to walk the rest of the way on your own.

“Will you be able to?” You took his words as a hit on your inability to perform after everything.

“Bast-”

“I only mean that you are exhausted,” He interrupts.

“Didn’t know you cared, Shadowsinger.” You shivered, feeling the chills roll off your back, the weather getting warmer with every step.

“We cannot have this mission go wrong because you cannot pull off simple fae magic.”

Simple fae magic he says, bending light to your will was fairly simple but what did he know of it? “Rest assured it will be done,” You murmured. You didn’t have the energy to argue with this stubborn male.

Once you reached the border you gave him the cloak from your shoulders in hopes that it will shield his scent. You knew of all the quickest paths and entrances to the palace, soon you were there at the front steps with your magic engulfing the spymaster.

~~~

“Dear Y/n,” Beron sat upon his throne looking down at you as you bowed low in his favor.

“My Lord.” You prayed to the mother he couldn’t sense Azriel behind the pillars in the darkness, you hoped with the way you were close to him throughout most of the journey nearing your home court and the added security of your cloak that your father wouldn’t be able to scent him out.

“Now my dear, we will not start off your visit with lies.” He tutted.

“How long has it been dear sister?” One of your brothers purred out. Your lips quirked, wanting to scowl but you remembered your place. Attitude would not be taken lightly, especially from you.

“Not long enough,” You mumble under your breath.

Your other brother equally as distasteful piped up beside the one who had spoken previously, “I’m not sure she belongs to any High Lord, hopping around from court to court like a common wh-”

“Enough,” Eris, your eldest brother’s voice boomed throughout the throne room. He did not meet your eye as he said: “She is not worth the extra breath it takes to insult her, brothers.”

“Well said,” Beron ended all conversation. “You may retire to your room, servants have taken care of everything you need, we have much to discuss tomorrow.”

You took the short greeting as a mercy. Eris coming to your defense (though it didn’t seem like it) was a gift and you hoped your father and your other two brothers wouldn’t seek to question him about it. Your relationship with your eldest brother was an odd one. Though he was a bastard like the rest of them, he had a line that he didn’t cross which made you more fond of him than the others. It was almost as if he cared, in his own messed-up way.

Either way, you kept your distance from all of them when you could. You kept note of his ‘kindness’ and moved on, if you dwelled on specifics it would be easier for you to get hurt.

Azriel was standing with his back to you, your wardrobes were open, along with your cabinets and drawers. His shadows around the room, looking for gods knows what. You let the door slam behind you, “What in the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

He ignores you and continues his search.

“May I ask what the hell is wrong with you?” You stand with your hands on your hips, demanding an answer.

He gave you an inquisitive stare, you try to shake the annoyance off of you. You couldn’t understand this male, one second it was dinner and what you dare call a pleasant conversation, the next he rummaged through your drawers looking for gods knows what- “Your mood swings are giving me whiplash you know.”

Azriel turns to face you, “We are not friends, Y/n.”

You were taken aback, you knew that. You knew it probably more than your actions gave off but this was you trying. Trying to be better, the emissary in you always trying to build relations with people. You knew better than to try with him but you did anyways, for the sake of your sanity. You would no longer try anymore.

“Right, silly me for thinking you were a professional and could at least act civil.” You begin to close your drawers in your path walking up to him.

“This is me being civil,” He growled. “Any second I am near you and not ripping you apart, is me being civil.”

“I thought we were past this,” You let out a breath. You already knew what this was going to lead to. “You hate me, I hate you. Can we just skip to the part where one of us stabs the other and we can find some sort of way to breathe in the same space?”

Azriel rolls his eyes and runs a hand stressfully through his hair, “You are unbearable.”

“And what do you think you are?”

“Not a useless pathetic excuse of a spy.” You saw red. You wanted to kill him, everything that you had been through, all you had made up for and he had the audacity to insult you. You didn’t owe him shit.

Before your mind could stop you, your hand flys to meet his face. He snatched your wrist and backed you up against the wall closest to the door.

“I despise you,” You snarl. Your breath mingled with his, that was how close he was. You were chest to chest, his forehead pressed against yours, and his hazel eyes met your wild ones. The energy was feral, your eyes flickered from his eyes to his mouth which was set in a threatening scowl, matching yours.

“The feeling is mutual Firewielder.”

He releases his hold on you, backing away from you. You rub at your wrist, you didn’t realize how much he did not hold back his strength. You let out a humorless laugh, “You are a petty son of a bitch.”

“Your mouth is foul,” He retorted.

“I’m sorry, are my words too harsh for your delicate ears?” With arms crossed, you watched as he paced your room.

“Hardly,” He shakes his head violently. “I will have you know that I am loyal to my High Lady and I will not stand idle as you live your life not paying for how worthless you were in her capture.”

Azriel knew nothing of your experience with Feyre while she was in the Spring Court. You had done what you could to help her, and though your efforts were fruitless in the grand scheme of things, you had done what little you could. Kept her company, kept Tamlin's wrath from getting to her completely, and in the end, you had chosen a side. Her side.

He continued with a shake of his breath, “I know you are not your brother Y/n. But it is not enough for me not to hate you. Not to mention the power you wield the most retracts every fiber in my being that will allow me to be near you.”

There it was; the true unabridged reason why he was a cruel, unfeeling monster toward you.

“Then let us be done with this so that we may finally be rid of each other.”

You let the weight of your body be heard in your footsteps as you make your way to the bathroom, slamming it shut, sliding down the door, and pressing your hand to cover your mouth. You would not let him hear your sobs, you would not give him the satisfaction. 

~~~

Next Chapter

Taglist: @kuraikei - @americancowgirl19 - @feyres-fireheart - @brekkershadowsinger - @marina468 - @highladyofhogawarts - @parker-natasha

(if your name is crossed out that means tumblr won't allow me to tag you)

[anjuschiffer]

Repairing a Broken Hero (if you can even call me that) Chapter 3

...i swear...I'm trying to catch up on fics QQ

tags: @toodaloo-kangaroo @vixen-uchiha @fairlyfatale @battybatbat @angie500

-

Chapter 3

PREV | FIRST | A03

“Any luck?” Tim asked, Bruce picking up the shouting in the background. He had changed out of his alter ego and was now in the Batmobile, reading Flash’s report. He didn’t find her nor did he find a corpse.

As the saying went. No news is good news. 

She was still out there. Somewhere. ”Did Hood-”

“No. He refused to talk to me. But I left the file behind in case he changes his mind.” Bruce quickly added, noticing another incoming call appearing on his screen.

Black Canary.

Oh, that wasn’t good. “Robin, I’ve got to go.” Without waiting for a response, Bruce hung up and picked up the next call. “Ca-“

“I just read Flash’s report and Oli  just filled me in. What were you thinking? Sending Red Beetle after Mr.Freeze? You put her against her biggest nightmare, her trauma…

What was going through your mind when you made this mission for her? From the looks of it, she clearly wasn’t.”

“She needed to face her issues head on.” He defended himself. “She can’t be part of the Justice League until she learns to reign in her anger and rage.”

“But not this way.” Dinah huffed. “She shouldn’t have been forced to face it on her own like she has been for the past seven years. 

For the past seven years, she didn’t have anyone to guide her, to train her. She had to learn everything by herself…

She was still a kid, Bruce…she still is a kid…and it’s our job to help her manage the rage she’s been carrying in her for the past seven years. Not add to it. 

She was already wary of us and now? I’m afraid we made it worse.”

Bruce went silent knowing Dinah was right. But what choice did he have? 

They didn’t know anything about her and they couldn’t find anything about the supposed defeated nemesis.

Not a single remnant was found regarding Hawkmoth and when Diana interviewed the girl and found out she used magic, it caused Kent to go on high alert. 

While he was usually okay with magic, something about the alleged heroine didn’t sit right with him, pushing him to ask Bruce to test the girl’s moral compass. 

Something about the look in her eyes and the way her magic felt around him; Kent hated the hollowed look in her eyes and the way her magic tended to slither around her, as if desperately trying to anchor itself onto anyone within her range. 

As if trying to stabilize itself with the help of someone else. “-even listening? We have to find her before-”

“Flash didn’t find Red Beetle at her last known location and I couldn't get…the help I needed to try and find her.” Bruce struggled to say, especially that last part. “We’re going to need the services of a certain detective.”

“I hope it’s not who I think it is.”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have a choice.” Bruce informed her, steeling himself for what was about to happen. “A magic user is missing, we’re going to need his help.

See you at the Tower.” With that, Bruce made his way back to the WatchTower, contemplating his decision. Dwelling on the thought for a while, he finally huffed before opening up his glove box and taking out what seemed to be a die. 

He crushed it between his fingers before calling Robin again.

“B? What’s-”

“A certain detective will be making his way there. Give him a briefing on the situation. I should be there in 10.”

“On it.” Robin rogered, hanging up with a click.

Bruce hoped this man would still be there when he got there. Then again, there was no telling if he was going to actually help them.

After all, he was a con man first before a detective and a mage…

-

“A cryogenic freezing chamber…” Marinette scoffed as she let go of him, Victor let out a breath, bringing his hand to where the knife was held against his throat, the tips of his fingers feeling the impression left behind. 

He propped himself up, watching as Marinette made her way to the equipment, the furious heroine not once blinking as they held eye contact. 

He hated the way she glared at him, the way her shoulders squared against him. It was a complete 180 from the heroine he was speaking to moments ago.  

She looked exactly as she did when they first met: feral. 

He watched as she raised an arm and then suddenly-

“Marinette! Don’t!” He cried as he reached out towards her when he realized she was about to shatter the glass. “It’s Nora’s! That’s all I have left from her!” He watched her stop her blade a centimeter away. “It doesn’t work anymore.” He explained, noticing her hand shakily lift itself away from the chamber.  

Marinette let out a cry before punching the wall beside them, retracting her hand from the hole she made. 

Dust fell from both her hand and knife as they rejoined Marinette’s side. 

Victor watched as she huffed and puffed, her grasp tightening on the blade in her hand. 

“To think it was you who made this.” She growled out, turning to look at him with glossy eyes. “You.”

“I made it for my wife. I made it to-“

“You made her suffer!” Marinette cried out. “You were making her suffer!”

“She was not suffering!” Victor yelled. “She was in a comfortable slumber, waiting for me to find a cure for her!”  Victor defended himself. “She was-“

“In your delusion of grandeur, she was quietly rotting away, her illness eating away at whatever was left of her! You’re selfishness-“

“It was not a delusion! And I was not selfish! You have no idea what you are talking about!” He yelled, his hands now fists that shook violently at his side. “I made sure the chamber lowered her body’s functions to prevent her cancer from-“

“Tell me the truth Victor.” Marinette quietly said. “In the end, it was all for naught, wasn’t it?” She walked up to him, the tears in her eyes more prominent. 

“If it weren’t for my creation, Nora would’ve already been- I loved her Marinette- no. I love Nora and will forever love her. I love her ‘til this day, Marinette.”

“You just couldn’t accept her fate…your fate.” Marinette said, dropping her transformation. “You couldn’t accept her death because it meant accepting the fact that the two of you weren’t meant to be toget-”

“I let her go, Marinette.” Victor said defeatedly, turning away from her. “I don’t know what Gabriel did that filled you up with all this anger and rage, I don’t know what went on that made you react this way upon seeing Nora’s stasis chamber, but let me tell you one thing.” Victor looked her dead in the eyes. “I wasn’t cretinous enough to keep her alive when I realized I made her cure too late.” 

He walked to the chamber, placing a hand over it. 

He looked at his wedding photo he had placed against the inner wall, a place where he believed Nora would see upon waking from her deep slumber. “By the time I made her cure, Nora’s cancer had already progressed so much that my cure would not have been able to reverse the illness…

So no, I do not think- I do not believe keeping Nora alive while I looked for a cure was for naught. 

I made the cure. 

It was supposed to cure her…

My only flaw was forgetting the most crucial factor against this being a success: time.” 

Victor turned to Marinette. “If I had the chance for a do-over, I wouldn’t change a thing. I’d do it all over again…anything for Nora.” He looked at Marinette, the girl still glaring at him, tears running down her face.

“Even if it meant stealing and killing…again?” Marinette asked.

“In a heartbeat,” he replied with no hesitation. 

“And what if you had a kid?” Marinette threw the curve ball, watching Victor’s eyes widen, his eyes softening a bit. She watched as he ran the thought in his mind, the frown he had turned into a thin line. “Would you still-”

“I would.” Victor said firmly. “But not at the price of making her-our child suffer…if…” Victor held in a warble. “If Nora had left me behind a child…then I would’ve cherished the child to bits. 

After all, that child would be the last thing Nora would’ve left me behind in memory of her.

A gift of our love for one another…

Our love in a tangible form…

Why wouldn’t I care for it? Why wouldn’t I cherish the last remaining piece of Nora?” 

Marinette stood there stunned, trying to understand the man before her. A man who told her he killed and stole to find a cure for his wife. A man who didn’t hesitate to kill if it meant being one step closer to saving his wife…

A man who would stop his madness if only he had a child to hold him back and reign in his sorrow…

Marinette let out a sob, causing Victor to take a step closer to her. “Marinette, are you-”

“You were just like Gabriel…planning, scheming, hurting those around you…all for the supposed sake of your dying wife…” Marinette managed to say despite the tightness in her throat, wiping away her tears. “And yet…you are nothing like him.

Nothing -sob- at all.” She sank to the floor. 

“Gabriel?” Victor asked, “why are you-”

“Why couldn’t he be like you?” She asked him, furiously wiping away her tears. “Why wasn’t he more pragmatic? Why wasn’t he you?” Marinette let out another sob. “If he was…then maybe…maybe…maybe I wouldn't have blindly tried to join the Justice League.”

What? What was she talking about? She had impulsively tried to join the Justice League? For what reason? “If Gabriel had just loved his wife the way you loved Nora, then he would still be here.

He would’ve been at my-”

“Marinette, who are you talking about?” Victor placed a hand on her shoulder. “Who would’ve been-”

“Adrien.” She answered with a sniffle. “If it weren’t for Gabriel, he still would’ve been in Paris. He would’ve been here with me. 

It’s all his fault!” She screamed, slamming her fist against the floor. 

“Who is Adrien?”

“Gabriel’s son… my first love…and…my one and only partner who fought by my side all these years…” she let out a dry laugh. “Can you believe I found that out when I was taking down my nemesis?”

“But what does Adrien have to do with you joining the Justice League?”

Marinette wiped her face one more time before facing Victor with dull eyes.

“He’s missing. He’s been missing for the past year. And my magic isn’t enough to locate him. I need someone else to help me try and find him.”

“Who do you need help from?”

Marinette wiped a tear away, staring as it sat perfectly round on the tip of her finger.  

“John Constantine.”

“

“Tim, why is he here?” Cassandra asked Tim, who was quickly condensing Marinette's information into a single document to read to Constantine. The boy was so immersed in trying to finish the summary as he only answered Cass with a grunt. 

The guy came out of nowhere. 

One minute they were just sitting near the zeta tubes and the next, a giant yellow portal opened in the middle of the floor and Constantine stumbled into headquarters with a lit cigarette in hand and muttering under his breath. 

A ‘how fucking dare you,’ and a ‘you’re using the favor now?’ was heard as he closed the portal behind him. To add on to his annoyance, everyone ran to him when he asked for Batman, he was ignored.

“Are you going to help us find Red Beetle?”

“We’ve lost contact with her while she-“

“-already told all you bloody kids I don’t know why I’m he-” John noticed Tim and walked up to the boy, causing him to jump when he put his shoulders on him. “Baby Bat, where Bat’s?” Tim looked at him appalled by the nickname, but John ignored it. “Bastard had the nerve to call me on my day off-”

“First off, it’s Robin. Second, he’s running late and told me to debrief you on what’s going on.”

John leaned back, crossing his arms. 

“Alrighty then. Yap away.”

“We need your help finding-“

“You want me to help you find someone?” Constantine looked at the others in the room and back at Robin. “Bats called me to help him find a person?” He laughed. “And he’s suppose to be the better detective-“

“If he’s asking for your help it means he couldn’t find her through normal means.” Robin seethed, a scowl forming. “We need you to locate her through magical means.”

“And I’m assuming it’s this Red Beetle everyone and their bloody mother have been crying about?” John asked the obvious, earning glares but he kept smirking. 

“Red Beetle was online when her two trackers turned off and when someone went to check the scene, she was nowhere to be found.

She disappeared without a trace.”

“Uh huh.”

“So we need you to help us-“

“I’ve heard enough.” John opened a portal and was going to head back when he felt pairs of hands pull him back and tell him that he needs to help them. “If she couldn’t be found through your means and if I do end up locating her, then -more often than I can count- she’s in a magical bind and I’m not dealing with whatever shit that would be.

I didn’t tell Bats I owed him a favor for him to drag me into one of your manhunts on a rogue.”

“So you’re not going to help us look for her?” Jaime asked. “If she’s in a bind, then we have to-“

“I’m not going to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, you daft. I know when to stay in my lane. And this-“

“We just need you to locate her Constantine.” Baan spoke up, startling the kids. “We’ll handle the rest.”

“Well, look who decided to finally show up. You should’ve started there, Batsy. What would’ve been better if you were here to begin with instead of these blokes.” John dusted his coat and disposed of his cigarette. “They’re not exactly in their right minds to be taking charge of this manhunt, wouldn’t you say?”

“They’re not in charge. But they are worried about her.” Bruce looked at the teens, some glaring at Constantine till while the others just followed him with their eyes. Observing every movement he made. “How fast can you locate her?”

“Don’t rush me, love. Gotta focus well if you want me to find this girl.” Bruce grunted. “Now, if you kids could move, I’d appreciate that.”

Constantine watched as the teens stepped away from him. “Lovely and now that I have room to breathe again, let’s get this started, shall we?”

Bruce watched as John prepared himself, pulling out a needle from an inner pocket of his coat. “These suckers are to find, ya know? Sold a kidney for this one.”

“There’s no way he did, did he?” Garfield asked. 

“I mean, the man did sell his soul already.” Tim bluntly replied, the others looking at him with a horrified face. 

“I’m going to need the kids full name. And a photo of her.”

John noticed Bruce’s silence, which was hard to miss with everyone else keeping their mouths shut. “Bats. This isn’t going to work if you don’t give me her full name and her photo. Do you want me to find the kid or not?“ Constantine waited for an answer.

Instead, Constantine was given a photo of the girl with the name ‘Marinette Dupain-Cheng’ written under her face. John looked at the photo, not hiding the shock upon seeing her face. “Are you sure this is the girl you’re looking for?” He asked Bruce, Bruce wondering why the usually unserious man was asking him such a question.

“Why are you asking?

“Just a heads up, I might not be able to find her.” John didn’t give Bruce time to ask what he meant by that as he closed his eyes and lifted the needle in front of him. 

They watched with bated breath as he conjured a magic globe, the needle lifting from his fingers as he muttered a spell under his breath. 

They watched as the pin flew off, twirled once around the holograph Earth before it started to sputter and then break, not startling John. He turned to Bruce and narrowed his eyes.

“How in the ever loving fuck did you lose a Guardian, Bats?”

NEXT

[hufflefluff-stuff]

102 is quite a line 👀

Maybe an Ominis line 👀

tho I'm lost on a scenario, you got free reign on that!

Ooooo yes!! This reminds me of some angsty audio I heard on tiktok with Ominis saying "it's rotten work [about himself]" and MC replying "not to me" so that's the vibe we're going for.

MAJOR spoilers for endgame stuff ahead!

102) "I am damaged."

[Request more Angst/Horror prompts here!]

........

"I am damaged..."

That's the first thing you heard Ominis mutter to himself when he thought he was all alone in the Undercroft.

He hadn't realized you were there as well, quietly studying your books and trying to feel like a normal student for once.

Ever since you attended Hogwarts as a late bloomer, things were anything but normal from the get-go.

After saving the school (and more or less the entire wizarding world) from certain doom at the hands of Ranrok and Rookwood, you hoped to end this year on the best note possible. It was hard given all of the friends you've lost along the way, but a lot of good came out of it, too.

Ominis was one such example. Despite the rocky start you both had when he caught you sneaking out of the Undercroft that fateful day, you managed to make amends and grow closer together.

You never thought that same snobby blind boy who threatened to report you to the headmaster would be the one to confess his feelings for you.

It was in the days following you winning the house cup for [House], and when you finally had a moment alone to talk to him, he finally made his move. His way of courting you was so sweet and eloquent--fitting for the Slytherin from such a privileged class.

Of course other students had eyes for you, too, but Ominis loved you for who you are and not for your ancient magic and reputation as a "hero". Going on different adventures with you and Sebastian made him realize what kind of person you truly were:

An unreliable "acquaintance" of his best friend who reeked of distrust in the beginning, turned to a kind person who was always by his side through thick and thin in the end.

Now that you two have officially become a couple, you managed to coax him into accompanying you on more excursions both inside and outside of the castle.

Although he couldn't see the beauty of the world and all its magical creatures, you described it to him how ever you could--whether it's a Thestral resting underneath the ribcage of some enormous beast's skeleton, or the charred corpse of a spider you've just slain with Incendio. He loved how you spoke of them regardless of the scenario.

On top of that, you've taken up to helping more people in the local hamlets and villages, with Ominis reassuring them that he's not some cruel and mean Slytherin from the Gaunt family, and that he genuinely cared for their concerns.

However...your latest mission ultimately had taken a turn for the worst, and you had some serious regrets on taking your boyfriend along for the ride.

It seemed to be just like any other poacher camp you've shutdown. But the locals informed you that this one in particular was in charge of trafficking beast skins...or selling beasts to butchers.

You urged Ominis to discreetly free the creatures from their cages, taking out the nearby guards with Petrificus Totalus, while you ambushed the poachers on the other side of the camping grounds. But you both failed to realize that some of Rookwood's goons were among their midst, seeking to avenge him and make it very clear that you'll never be safe again.

He had every intention to murder you; you were just protecting yourself against his Killing Curse, though of course his gang wouldn't understand that. They just saw you and began throwing whatever spell they had at their disposal.

You took most of them down with ease, while Ominis finished freeing the last purple toad and rushed to assist you in the fight.

But then he stopped upon hearing three distinct things that would forever haunt him: A dark wizard shouting "Crucio", the sparks of electricity crackling in the air...

And your brief, yet painful, screams.

Despite his wand detecting only you and the one ashwinder casting the curse, he was frozen on the spot, unable to bring himself to move forward and save you. It was like somebody had casted Petrificus Totalus on him.

He could have taken them out right away, but...he was terrified.

Suddenly he felt like he was back in the Slytherin Scriptorium, where Sebastian had to cast the same curse on you in order to proceed forward--something Ominis had tried in vain to protest against.

He knew he wasn't there, it was all in his mind, yet all he could think about were your screams.

Then he thought about the screams of those innocent muggles he watched his family torture...before he remembered his own screams after they tortured him for refusing to use the curse, not giving up until he finally relented.

The rest of that moment was a blur, but at some point you managed to yank out a Mandrake from your bag and stun the ashwinder long enough to use Expelliarmus and lacerate their legs with Diffindo.

While that shrieking plant made Ominis briefly deaf, too, it snapped him out of his trance, bringing him back to reality as you rushed over to him. You fled the campsite together on Highwing's back, drinking some wiggenweld on your way back to the castle, not speaking until you were safely on schoolgrounds.

That all happened yesterday...and he was still quite distressed. He didn't seem comfortable talking about those events too much, and you couldn't blame him. So you left it be, apologizing for the stress you caused, and tried making it up to him with a trip into Hogsmede.

However, this morning you didn't find him in the Great Hall or anywhere in the Slytherin Section. Not even Sebastian knew of his whereabouts, assuming you "lost" him; fortunately there weren't many places that your boyfriend frequented.

The Undercroft was your next best guess.

Yet it was empty when you arrived, much to your annoyance.

You figured Ominis will eventually turn up here, so you transfigured a sofa out of some pile of armor and decided to catch up on your studies. But obviously it was hard to focus on the texts when all you could think about was him..

At some point he finally arrived, and you nearly jumped up to ask where the hell he's been...until he started mumbling rather concerning things to himself, apparently unaware of your presence.

Then you noticed he didn't have his wand in-hand, feeling the walls and eventually sitting down on the floor, leaning against one and curling up. He certainly knew the Undercroft's layout well enough to not need it constantly, but his behavior was still extremely concerning.

Especially his remark about being "damaged", which had you gravely worried about his physical well-being.

"Ominis, what do you mean by "damaged"? Are you hurt?"

"MC..?! Oh, Merlin..d-didn't realize you were here." Although startled at first, he quickly calmed down upon hearing your voice and approaching footsteps. "I'm alright. I was just...th-thinking up some poetry. You know, Thakkar has been giving me some really good advice-"

"Wow, you're a worse liar than I ever was," you chuckled lightly, kneeling down in front of him. "You know he's away on a family trip, right?"

"......."

"....Ominis?"

His silence worried you greatly, especially as he suddenly hid his face in his arms, now unwilling to look at you for some reason.

"If you wanna hide from me, love, Disillusionment is more-"

"D-Do...I even deserve to be called that anymore?" He mumbled in a trembling voice that made your stomach sink.

"....huh? Of course you do." Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What's going on? You can be honest with me. If...I did something to upset you recently, I'm sorry-"

"No. You...d-don't have to be sorry about anything. It's me who should be the sorry one."

"Darling, what do you mean-?"

"Stop. Please. I-I think the proper term is "bloody stinking coward". I could have stopped that ashwinder f-from using the Cruciatus Curse...he was right there and I could have done something! But I didn't!" Ominis began to ramble, unable to stop his voice from shaking and rising in volume. "I-I stood there like a bumbling half-witted mooncalf wh-while he tortured you!"

You frowned slightly, gently setting your hands on his arms as you finally understood why he was so distraught. "Ominis, you were occupied in freeing all those beasts. You can't be in two places at once, and I'm not angry at you for that. And besides, the curse didn't hurt me badly this time. I know it scares you, but...."

However you trailed off as he lifted his head, and your heart cracked in two upon seeing the tears streaking down his face like rivers of salt water.

Only now did you realize what he meant by feeling "damaged"---and it wasn't in the physical sense. But the emotional.

"That's exactly my problem...I was too scared to do anything." He shuddered. "Wh-Who just stands by and...and lets their fears of the past consume them?! And nearly gets the love of their life killed because of it?!! That's something only a broken person does, MC...someone who's far too damaged t-to stand up for-"

"Don't say that. Nothing about you is "broken" or "damaged"." You pulled him into your arms, feeling him fall completely limp against you. "You are the furthest thing from either of those."

For a few moments, he was silent as he absorbed your words. But when he tried to respond, all that came from his lips was something between a gasp and a loud sob. He choked out an apology for losing his composure so quickly, though you just hushed him.

"Shhhh, it's okay." You held him tighter than ever, keeping one hand on the back of his head. ''Just let it all out. I'm not going anywhere, my love. And I mean that..I still love you."

With trembling hands, Ominis grasped onto your cloak, tears soaking into your shoulder as he allowed all of his emotions to spill. His sobs echoed freely in the Undercroft, not caring about anything anymore; not even if Sebastian were to walk in right now.

After all that's happened this year, it was just too much for him to keep locked inside: he lost his oldest friend to the Dark Arts, Anne was likely never going to reach out to him again....all that he really had left was you.

Yet he felt like none of his experiences made him any stronger, unlike you--who also lost so much and, at the same time, gained great powers that allowed you to protect those dearest to you.

But who would be there to protect you?

That's where Ominis came into the picture, wanting to fight for you after everything you've done to save Hogwarts. His worst fear was losing you forever anytime you went off on a dangerous mission. So he actually insisted on going out with you more often to put his mind at ease..plus he wanted to be sure you're not doing something too reckless.

But if he was only going to freeze up every time some dark wizard merely spoke the incantation of a certain Unforgivable....then how could he ever hope to save you when you needed him most?

He felt pathetic and useless, essentially forcing you to figure out how to escape that situation yourself while he stood there like some idiot.

What if you didn't conveniently have a Mandrake tucked in your bag? What if you had been in too much pain to grab it?

What then?

At that point, he felt like he was too broken to be with someone as strong as you. This relationship was done for, he believed, and sooner or later you'd grow tired of his cowardice and resent him for not stepping in.

He thought you were going to break it off for sure now that you see how "difficult" he was being.

But that was far from the truth. You didn't shun him or demand an explanation for why he acted the way he did. Instead you let him cry in your arms--something that no one in his life offered when he was at his lowest--staying here in this safe haven together and reaffirming your love for him.

He didn't know whether to feel grateful or selfish.

"I-I tried, MC..I..I really tried to help you." He wept, his face now buried in your neck. "But I guess I'm...just doomed to hurt everyone around me. That's all I'm good at."

"You're not doomed to live that way, Ominis. You haven't hurt me at all, and I know damn well you'd never hurt anybody on purpose."

"Really? T-Tell that to my family...we were monsters who tortured and killed muggles for fun-"

"They did that for fun, not you. You're not a monster like them. I know this because you refused to follow in their footsteps. And by Merlin, I'm glad you were a stubborn child..even after all they put you through." You softly spoke, kissing his head as you felt his arms tighten their hold around you. "All I see now is someone who's even stronger than them, with a good heart that would've won him a spot in Gryffindor for sure."

"....w-with Prewett, Weasley, and all those twits? I don't think so.." He chuckled lightly, sniffling as he rested his head on your shoulder and fell quiet. He felt a lot calmer than before, sighing tiredly. "..I'm sorry. I-It was never my intention to burden you with this, love. You already deal with so much. I just wish I...could've been just a bit stronger for you."

"Don't worry about me, okay?" You smiled. Even though he couldn't see it, you hoped he'd at least imagine it. "I saw how sneaky you were around those poachers. You petrified them before they even knew what hit 'em."

"Of course. I had to do something, right?" He huffed, although he smiled a little bit.

"You did great, darling. If the beasts could talk, I'd say they'd be thanking you over and over. You saved their lives. They probably think you as their hero."

"I thought it was that Hufflepuff girl's job to be the "hero of beasts"...but I don't mind that title, too."

A calming silence fell over you two, save for Ominis' light sniffles. But eventually he was the first to let go, his hands reaching for the sides of your face moments later, wanting to ensure you weren't injured at all.

You helped guide him there, your skin growing warm at his touch. He felt around for any recent scarring or bruising across your flesh, being grateful that he found nothing of the sort.

Meanwhile, you kept smiling as you observed his own face. Although he looked like a complete mess after all that crying, he still managed to appear quite handsome in your eyes.

You knew he desperately needed that outlet, and you were happy he finally confided in you.

At the end of the day, you'll love him no matter what.

[miryum]

Foundling Villa- Chapter 11

Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!

Tag list: @notleclerc @sunsumonner @saturnsrinqs @livster @chonkybonky @eau-rougee @champomiel @justyouraverageeverydaysimp (wow, there’s a lot of you)

Warnings: argument? short chapter... so sorry you guys!!!

ao3 link  next chapter>>

“Charles, I know what I’m asking is a lot, but this needs to be done. Right now, I’m not asking as your brother, but as your king.” Lorenzo looked tired, and Charles felt sorry for him, but what he was telling him to do was crossing a line.

“Lorenzo, I am not spending weeks in a potentially hostile environment with my wife,” Charles insisted. They had been arguing for over an hour now, ever since Lorenzo proposed his idea. Since the coronation, Lorenzo had been doing everything in his power to gain support for his reign. He had used Charles and Arthur as placeholders in meetings while he went to villages and markets around Enza, drumming up supporters and fondness. But as of now, Lorenzo was worried about foreign affairs. 

You had relayed to Charles what Prince Verstappen had hinted at during Lorenzo’s coronation. Charles had, in turn, told Lorenzo, who spiralled into worrying that a war would break out during his first year as King. Once Queen Pascale calmed her eldest down, the brothers and their advisors had convened a meeting to discuss what the next steps should be. Charles had gently suggested that you avoid the meeting. He didn’t want you to overhear his shouts.

“You don’t even have to go to Redull,” Lorenzo compromised. “Just to their allies or neighbours. If you can coax information out of them, it would be incredibly helpful and necessary for the future of Enza.”

“Lorenzo, must I repeat myself? I am not travelling across the continent with my newlywed wife to adversarial kingdoms!” Charles found the title of ‘husband and wife’ sliding much more easily on this tongue.

“I am your King, ordering you on this assignment, and don’t think I won’t exile you for disrespecting your superiors!” Lorenzo’s roars reverberated through the room, and surely out into the hallway. Charles flinched back. Lorenzo slumped down into his chair. 

“I’ll do it,” Charles agreed quietly. “Lorenzo, I-”

“Don’t you dare,” Lorenzo held up a hand to silence him. “Just… go.”

Meanwhile, you sat in your and Charles’ shared room, penning a letter. 

Prince Verstappen,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. It’ll be unusual for you to hear from me, but I hope you’re not too surprised. I've lost sleep over your words at Lorenzo’s coronation and I’m writing so you could wipe away the worries. 

I’m unable to do anything to protect the ones I love if I don’t know what I’m protecting them from. I’m sure you can see my predicament. I’m aware you won’t divulge your kingdom’s secrets, nor am I asking you to, but a little more information would be beneficial. 

This may seem like a ploy to compromise your plans, but rest assured, it’s not. I want to avoid conflict and altercation in any way possible, and if writing a simple letter is enough to do so, then I will gladly write a thousand.

I beg that you come to your senses to help a friend in need. You won’t simply be helping me, but thousands of innocents. I’m sure you don’t want that bloody smear on Redull history.

I eagerly await your response,

Princess Y/n Leclerc of Enza

You slowly set your quill down and stared at the words you had composed. Would it be enough? What could Redull be concocting? Your unstable alliance with Prince Verstappen could prove to be essential, and you needed to play it well. You felt as if you were playing chess against an opponent, but you couldn’t see how they were moving their pieces. You were playing in the dark.

In a state of convoluted amusement, you added a postscript to your letter: By any chance, do you play chess? If so, Queen’s pawn to d4.

Feeling much more weary than you should have, you flagged down a servant in the hallway and gave them the letter.

“What’s that?” You quickly turned around to see Charles smiling sheepishly at you. He still felt bad about his argument with Lorenzo. “Are you writing to your parents?”

You let out a laugh. “God, no. Actually… it’s to Prince Verstappen. I thought that because he reached out to me in the beginning, he would be more prone to talking to me again.”

Charles let out a sign. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, but thank you for trying. How would you feel about going behind Prince Verstappen’s back to deduce what they’re planning?”

“Charles, what do you mean? If we misuse their limited trust, then it could make things so much worse.”

“Y/n, I’m aware of the possible repercussions. It’s the reason why I’m against it.” No other reason. None at all that had to do with you. “But I would rather sacrifice our alliance with Redull than the people of Enza. I’m getting orders from Lorenzo. I can’t disobey him. But I need you to come with me. Please.” He took a step towards you. 

“You didn’t need to ask,” you said. “I would follow you anywhere.”

“And I you.”

**

“Be safe, dear.” Queen Pascale kissed you on both cheeks. “It’s a cruel world out there. My mother always said, be nicer than the cruel world, or be crueller. I trust you to make the right decision. She was quite the woman.”

“Of course, my Queen.” You curtsied quickly, smiling at the Queen mother’s words. You and Queen Pascale had created a quiet bond during your time in Enza. “And you as well.”

Charles was busy talking with his brothers, but once you stepped towards the waiting carriage, he quickly left them to help you. 

“Good luck,” Arthur called. You waved in return. You shifted over so Charles could squeeze in next to you, even though the seat opposite was wide open. Your hand immediately gripped his, intertwining your fingers. You justified it by wanting some solace. 

Queen Pascale, having seen this, leaned over to her youngest and whispered, “See? And he said he didn’t care about this girl.”

[ladylilithprime]

Day 15: Sigils

(Inspired by Somebody Else's Thanksgiving by @posingasme .)

WHEN THE CALL came in from Castiel to meet him at an old abandoned property, Dean almost went alone. With the way he and Sam had seemed to be working weirdly at cross-purposes despite supposedly being on the same page, it was only Castiel's sharp insistence that had him calling for Sam to join him. The way Sam looked at him, like he knew Dean had wanted to leave him behind and was simultaneously resentful and resigned to it made guilt churn in Dean's gut harshly. He shoved it down and waited impatiently for Sam to slide into the Impala's passenger seat before gunning the engine and driving them out to the old shack.

There were two bodies outside, the ground blackened with the shadows of huge wings seared into the ground. Sam made a sound in his throat like a keen that was partway to gagging, and took off for the shack at a run, leaving Dean to curse and follow.

"Cas!" Sam shouted as he flung the door open. "Castiel!"

"I'm here, Sam," the now-familiar gravelly voice answered. The angel stood motionless inside a circle of fire just inside the main room, the walls of the shack painted with bloody sigils, many of which Dean recognized from Bobby's panic room. "Don't break the sigils or the circle of holy fire. It's the only thing keeping them from being able to summon me."

"Who?" Dean demanded, when Sam only swallowed and nodded. "Summon you where?"

"Back to Heaven," came the disquieting answer. "The Archangels don't want you learning what I have to tell you."

"The bodies outside...." Sam started, then stopped, shuddering.

"Angels," Castiel confirmed gravely. "Sent to bring me in. I regret killing them, but I could not let them prevent me from speaking to you. Dean, Sam... Heaven wants the Apocalypse to happen."

"Oh, no," Sam whispered, barely audible around the roaring in Dean's ears.

He wasn't nearly so restrained.

"What the fuck?!" he shouted. "What, so all that running around and saving Seals, was that actually just moving everything along faster?!"

"More an attempt at misdirection and manipulation," Castiel said, shattering Dean's world further. "Only the First and Final Seals are immutable, and with six hundred and sixty-six Seals, only sixty-six of which actually needing to be broken, the Archangels felt it best to direct you to try and save a handful of simple Seals so that you would miss the demons and other angels breaking others elsewhere. The First Seal, you already know. The Final Seal is the death of the First Demon in a desecrated convent in Ilchester."

"The death of the First Demon meaning Lilith," Sam whispered in horror. "Oh, God... Lilith would've led us a merry chase until letting us catch up just in time to kill her and break the Seal...."

"Let you catch up, Sam," Castiel corrected with surprising gentleness. "Two brothers, two immutable Seals... two prophecied Vessels for the Apocalypse. While you would have been led to Lilith, Dean would have been sequestered away to await the appointed time to agree to be Michael's Vessel--"

"Leaving me alone and in position to be taken as Lucifer's after Lilith tricked me into letting him out," Sam finished woodenly.

"Like hell're those dickless asshats getting anywhere near me, or Sammy!" Dean growled, finding his voice and trying not to feel that stab of guilt at the surprise that crossed Sam's face at his vehemence. "So how do we derail things?"

"I don't know," Castiel admitted, spreading his hands in supplication when Dean glared at him. "Truly, I don't. Angels are created to serve and follow orders, and free thought and feeling is considered an aberration. Even with these defects, I am not suited to creative thinking the way humans are. The best idea I could think of was to give you two all the information and hope you could think of an option I couldn't."

Silence reigned for a long moment as Dean processed that while Sam stared off into the distant space between molecules or whatever it was he was looking at when he did that. The only sound besides his and Sam's breathing was the low roar of the ring of fire that was apparently important enough to Castiel to have burning that he would say not to distupt it even though it looked like he could barely move.

"What happens if they can't take us?" Sam asked after a long moment. "Michael and Lucifer. They're Archangels, and Lucifer is Fallen, but they're still angels. They have to get our permission first. So what happens if we say no?"

"I don't know," Castiel admitted. "That is not something anyone in Heaven or Hell believes will happen, as neither will care overly much how they gain your consent so long as they do gain it. I suspect that Michael might become impatient enough to raise your half-brother Adam for the purpose as an imperfect back-up, but you have no such half-siblings by your mother for Lucifer to take."

"So it's just me that needs to be taken out of play," Sam murmured, sending a chill down Dean's spine.

"Sammy," he said warningly.

"You know it's true, Dean," Sam said, sounding so fucking young and weary all at once. "Michael's got a back-up if he can't force you to agree, but I'm Lucifer's only option. If we can take me out before Lilith is ready to make her move--"

"Then the Archangels would simply resurrect you after wiping this conversation from your memory," Castiel broke in sharply. "Sam, I implore you, do not be so quick to give up your life on a slim hope!"

"What he said," Dean huffed grudgingly. "I went to Hell once to keep you alive, little brother, don't think I won't do it again!"

"Don't think I'll let you," Sam snapped back. "And I'm not talking about me dying. Not exactly. But I may have an idea. I just don't know how much Castiel is gonna like it, and I know you aren't gonna like it. At least I know I'll be able to stomach the taste."

"I don't have to like it if it keeps you alive and out of the Devil's clutches," Dean said, staring his brother down. "I learned a long time ago that the only order of Dad's I can't follow is to let you die. Ever. So lay it on me."

"It's risky," Sam warned. "And kinda crazy."

"Crazy's kinda what we do these days," Dean pointed out with a sweeping gesture towards the sigil-marked walls, trapped angel, and the entire damn Apocalypse mess beyond.

"Okay, then," Sam nodded slowly. "Do you still have Lenore's number?"

[miko32]

Born into the Seven Ruler's of Devildom

I was isekai'd to a world in a book. The title was "Kristin in the Harem of the Seven Demon Lords." Like its title, a human named Kristin was brought to Devildom against her will and had to survive through the temptation of the seven demon lords, who were brothers and avatars of the seven sins.

The seventh brother, Belphegor, the Avatar of Sloth.

The sixth brother, Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony.

The fifth brother, Asmodeus, the Avatar of Lust.

The fourth brother, Satan, the Avatar of Wrath.

The third brother, Leviathan, the Avatar of Envy.

The second brother, Mammon, the Avatar of Greed.

The first brother, Lucifer, the fallen angel, the Avatar of Pride. My father. The one who succeeded in seducing the human Kristin and impregnating her.

I was in shambles with the ending. Lucifer had kicked Kristin out, banished to the swamp and died giving birth. The baby survived and was named Leilel by Kristin, and that baby is me.

I'm Leilel Morningstar, the child of Lucifer Morningstar.

CHAPTER LIST

1, 2, 3, 4, 5,

TAG LIST (If anyone wants to be tag, just comment and tell me what you think, I will love to hear your opinion 🤗)

@f0uerleafedcl0ver , @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf

Chapter 6 --- I'm still in Hell

Three days later, the students of RAD are in an uproar. Every demon has the newest newspaper. The front page is loudly written:

"MEPHISTOPHELES, THE TRUE LOYAL LORD TO THE CROWN OF DEVILDOM, DIAVOLO, CERBERUS BREEDING IS SHUT DOWN!"

I stared at the title with bored eyes. So loudmouthed. Then I read the columns.

The Cerberus Breeding. An operation built by the Demon Lord, Jezelbub, who rebelled against the crown Prince of Devildom, Lord Diavolo. For almost a decade, this operation had been going on under the noses of Lord Diavolo's reign. Entrusted to the Seven Demon Brothers, who had no result at all....

I snorted at that. It's obvious Mephistopheles is mocking the demon brothers.

The demon brothers had only found small clues, a clean scene, unreliable eyewitnesses, yet thousands of hell dog homeowners still went missing due to the operation.

Now, homeowners' pets may rejoice thanks to the greatness and true demon from the House of Lords, Mephistopheles.

"IS SHUT DOWN!" shouted from the picture of Mephistopheles in front of the warehouse.

"Hm," I mumbled, feeling a little satisfied that Mephistopheles' hatred toward the Demon Brothers ran so deep that he wrote about them being deemed as useless. I smirked, then neatly folded the paper and carefully put it in my satchel, making my way to the colosseum for Mephistopheles' award.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

"GIVE IT UP FOR MEPHISTOPHELES!!!"

I covered my ears, laughed, and clapped my hands with the other students as they cheered and chanted Mephisto's name as he ascended the stage. Pride evident in his steps and a big smile adorning his face, he laughed and waved at the crowd. Diavolo accompanied him, shaking his hands, while flying cameras with bat wings captured their photo.

"Demons of Devildom, may I present," Diavolo gestured to Barbatos, who was carrying a big red box. It opened to reveal a golden crown of thorns. "The Bright Thorn of Devildom!"

The crowd gasped in awe at the magnificent crown and clapped their hands. I too was amazed. The crown was only bestowed upon the most devoted demons who had contributed to the Crown Heir of Devildom's works. I don't know if the Seven Brothers had ever receive this. Did they?

Wow. Just my information could lead Mephisto to receive this? I need to ask for more favors from him.

Diavolo then crowned Mephistopheles. He thanked his Lordship, and Diavolo allowed him to take the podium for his speech. The crowd cheered as Mephistopheles did.

Mephisto raised his hand to silence the crowd. "Now, all students of RAD, I could not be credited for all of this," Mephisto said. "For it is the loyalty of our Crown Prince, Lord Diavolo, that has pushed me to the limit. As such..."

Mephisto continued, bragging about his loyalty, all for the glory of Lord Diavolo. I shook my head. The book talked about Mephisto being absolutely in awe of Diavolo. Seeing him in real life on stage, green eyes sparkling with admiration, like a kid looking up to his idol. It's kind of cute.

...

What the... What am I thinking? I shook my head. Maybe because the adult mind inside me. I may be thirteen, but added with my first life, I should've been thirty years old at least. So I'm way much older on the inside. I huff through my nose.

No Leilel, not with a demon. Never with a-

Suddenly, my body shivered in a different sense. I look up and my eyes caught the demon at the far corner of the stage, Lucifer. His deep red eyes bore into me.

It's like an arrow shoot right into my chest. I held my breath in fear, feeling like a predator being cornered by its prey. Lucifer red eyes look deep into my soul, sucking all the life in me. I clench my fist at my side and move away, slowly. Away from his peering gaze and turned back. I sneaked out from the crowd, exiting the colosseum.

I didn't feel his stare again, but maybe that's just wishful thinking.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

I decided to hide in Mephistopheles' office. I'm sure he won't mind. We still had some business to do. Like changing my shackle. My wrist felt heavy and felt like being cut off. Mephistopheles has to change the term on the seal he put on my wrist. Soon, it'll be a protection spell.

I was almost fell asleep on the expensive vintage couch, when the door of the office bursts open. 

"Forgive me, fellas, I have business to take care of." Mephisto says to the demons who had come to admire him. He must have noticed me and kept the door ajar to hide me. 

"Aww, Mephisto, another work to do?"

"You’ve solved one of the highest operations, and you're still gonna work?"

"Celebrate, man!"

"I’m sorry, it's just this one deal I had to take care of. Goodbye!" Mephisto slams the door. He sighs and turns at me with a smile. "Now, where were we?" he stride around the room and takes a seat across from me. Unlike the other day, his smile is genuine, like a salesman to his biggest client. His eyes lit up. "Oh! I forgot! I should offer my guest a beverage!"

He starts to stand when I stop him. "No need, let's discuss our deal first."

Mephistopheles stop and sighs as he sits back. He doesn’t seem to like this. Well, he was cocky enough to accuse me of being one of the rebels. Mephistopheles leans forward, hands folded over his lap, and say the demon's magic word. "Well, what do you desire, Lami?"

I bit my lower lips, remembering Lucifer's red eyes at the colosseum "First of all, did you tell Lucifer about me?"

"Wha-no!" Mephisto huffs, leaning back on his coach. "I kept my promise!" I glower at him. Mephistopheles pursed his lips and asks, "Still, I wonder, why wouldn’t you take any credit for this?"

"Because that’s where our deal will be." I answer and lean forward. "I want your support and protection from any demons in this school who would bother my school life, and that includes the seven lords."

Mephistopheles' eyes widen, and he strokes his chin in thought. "The other demons, I get that. But why the seven lords?"

I almost rolled my eyes. Still suspicious, huh? I can't tell him that I'm Lucifer's daughter that he might put me through torture and kill me. Guess I have to pull out my trump card. "Let’s just say I don’t have any faith in any of the former angels who call themselves demons."

Mephistopheles whole body flinch in surprised. He blinks, and suddenly laughs. "Aha ha! Is that so? Well," Mephistopheles chuckled, hand over his chin. "We have the same thought, Lami."

No, we don’t. I just know that from the book. I smile back. "Oh, we do?" Mephistopheles nods, leaning on his hand as he gives me a smile. It felt, genuine and cute. I cough. "Anyway, I will only need your protection until I can get into the exchange program."

"The exchange program?"

"Yes, I plan to go to the human world, to tempt humans. It has been my dream since I was a little girl."

"Ugh, such a common dream for demons," Mephisto mumbles.

I ignored his comment. "So, do we have a deal?"

Mephisto smiles at me and again pulls out his gloves, offering his right hand. "It's a deal."

Once we shake hands, the seal on my wrist glows, changing our contract. He lets go to let me look at my wrist with the newest seal. My protection, my promises of the future. Now, I’ll just wait for time to go by. Then I’ll be in my real world, the human world.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

That night,

"Give me my money back, scumbag Mammon!!!"

"Why don't ya just shake me, maybe I'll rain money from my pants!"

The avatar of envy did so, shaking the second-born with all his might. Mammon shouted at his brother to stop. They both continued to shake each other off.

There was a meeting between the demon lords in the council room of RAD. All six demons were seated together at the round table. Satan read his book despite his rowdy brothers. Asmodeus hummed while looking at himself in the mirror. Belphegor slept on the table while his twin brother Beelzebub chewing candy.

Then, the first-born stepped in, Lucifer. Mammon and Levi, who were still bickering with each other. Two fists smacked on top of their heads.

"Ow!"

"Hey! What's the big idea?!"

They both flinched under Lucifer's red eyes. "Be quiet!" He commanded and sat in the middle. "The meeting starts."

Satan was the first to speak.

“I have collected the necessary curses for the demons responsible for the Cerberus Breeds. All the most torturous curses, even the deadliest ones." Satan let out sinister laughs.

"Hold your horses, Satan," Asmo hummed to his brother.

Beel raised his hand. "Lucifer, what will happen to the dogs that were used?"

"Diavolo has decided to keep the dogs and treat them. I had Levi find some professional demons to handle this," Lucifer replied, turning to the third-born.

"Oh, oh yeah, here," Levi handed Lucifer the papers. The first-born looked through the papers and then back to his brothers.

They continued discussing shutting down the operation. The talk between them smoothed down into a debate about how Mephistopheles found the first base operation.

"I mean, the guy could have just happened to come across it," Mammon said.

"Are you really that much of an idiot?"

"LOL, LOL," Levi exclaim, typing to his D.D.D. "Mammon said. "Mephisto finding it was a 'coincidence,' so stupid! And tweet!"

"Oi! Why do you have to tweet that?!"

"Levi, you're not supposed to tweet our meeting,"

"That's what worries you?!"

BANG!

The demon brothers turned to the door, where two human exchange students stood.

"Hi, everyone~~" Carina greeted. The other human, a plain boy with glasses and pale skin, lifted his hand.

"Hi, sorry to bother you,"

Lucifer groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What are you two doing here?"

The boy frightened as he hid behind Barbatos who escorted the two humans. Barbatos explain. "Forgive our interruption, but Carina refused to go home until the brothers are done."

"I-I..." the boy stuttered. "Didn't want..."

"Awww~ Mathieu, are you gonna keep hiding behind Barbatos?" Asmo stood, leaning over the table with a mischievous smile. "He's also a demon too, you know?"

Mathieu shrieked and jumped away from Barbatos. Barbatos only smiled.

Lucifer's eyebrow stress became more evident. "Aren't you responsible for tonight's dinner, Carina? Don't be selfish and go home."

"Awww... I can't just leave you all behind~~" Carina pouted, putting on her puppy eyes. But none of the demon brothers swayed, giving Carina a dead look. Mathieu gulped down his throat, Carina blinked at the brothers, confused by their response.

"Why don't you all have a meal here?" Barbatos suggested. "It has already passed dinner," He checked his watch. "There may be leftover from the cafeteria. I shall fetch some food from there."

"Oh yeah!"

"You're the demon, Barbatos!"

"Bring back at least a hundred dishes, please."

"We are quite famished, thank you very much, Barbatos."

Barbatos nodded and was about to close the door when Carina stopped him. "Tha-thank you so much, Barbatos." She had a shy smile, blushing cheek, fiddling with her fingers.

Barbatos stared at her, and gave his cold-butler smile. "Of course," He closed the door a bit hard in her face. Carina gasped, offended, and stomped her foot.

She looked over at the brothers. Now Mathieu was in the center of attention. The demons were asking Mathieu's opinion on how Mephistopheles found the warehouse.

"I-I-I mean," Mathieu stuttered, fixing his glasses. "Meph-Mephisto? Could've... found the spell? (Was it a spell) That mirrors are the hideaway (somehow), that-that's how he found it, right?"

Satan nodded. "Okay, but... How did he find the right spot where the mirror is?"

Mathieu shrugged. "I-I-I really don't know, why not, ask him?"

"Hah!" Belphegor exclaimed, startling Mathieu. Belphie's expression was bored as he leaned on his hand. "That guy has loose lips, but when it comes to this, he was very secretive,"

"Yeah, even to Lord Diavolo." Beel said. "It was very surprising,"

"What if it wasn't him?" The brothers stopped and turned to Lucifer, who stated his opinion. "I suspect that he was helped by another demon."

Satan scoffed. "Aha! Are you going to be suspicious of him every time he does something good for Diavolo?"

"What is that supposed to mean, Satan?"

"You know what I meant. You don't like that Mephisto solved this and not you."

"Actually," the brothers turned to the voice belongs to Carina. "Three days ago, I did see a particular demon walk into his office a day before Mephistopheles busted the warehouse."

"Huh?"

"What did she say?"

"Stupid Mammon, are you deaf now?"

"Hey!"

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, pondering Carina's words. "Who is this demon?" he asked, almost commanding.

Carina looked surprised, hand over her mouth. "Lami, that new demon. I wanted to be her friend, so I followed her. That's when I saw her went into Mephistopheles's office." Carina gasped and changed her tone to dismissive. "Ah, but, this is just a theory, she could've just wanted to join the newspaper RAD, right?"

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. If the demon swamp wanted to join, Mephistopheles would never consider it. He wouldn't even let any lower demons step into his office. Lucifer turned to the second-born. "Mammon, you are in the same class as her, yes?"

Mammon looked sideways. "Uuuh, yeah?"

"Keep an eye on her."

"Huh? Why me?!"

"Idiot, you're in the same class as her." Lucifer exhaled. "It is best to keep an eye on new demons; we never know whether they are loyal to Lord Diavolo or not."

Mammon pout, grumbling under his breath. "I don't like her!"

"Huh? First week, and you already don't like her?" Asmo chuckled, eyes flirting. "Fufufu, what did she do, is it scandalous?

Mammon glared disgust at Asmo, then looked at Mathieu and Carina. Mammon slump down into his chair and whispering. "Because she is supposed to be the new demon, not her."

The brothers were quiet in the room. Mathieu could feel the change and remained still like a rock. Carina scrunched her eyebrow in confusion.

"Mammon." Leviathan leaned forward. "You know that we're still looking for her,"

"And we will not stop looking for her," Lucifer said the final word. The brothers humm agree. Leaving Mathieu and Carina out of the circle. One of them is very upset.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The moon is at its lowest peak as I walk back to my dorm room at ten pm. Ten!

"Urgh!!!" I grumble under my breath. That history teacher is so petty, putting me in detention for a week! A week! Petty demons! They're the worst kinds of creatures. I hate, hate, hate them!

My eyes spot a 666 leaf clover. The green color reminds me of Green Blops. If he were here, seeing me angry, he would've faced me, with his arms crossed and looking at me.

I sigh and begin my ritual. Take a deep breath and let go. I did it again.

When I was a child, I had my moments of tantrum. Even with a mind of an adult, you can still get mad like a child. I refused to eat anything the Blops gave me, which made Red so sad. I was violent with Yellow and Orange, I didn't see they were hurt. I was pushy and annoyed with Green and Purple. I rejected everything nice Pink gave me. Until it hit the limit when Blue was scolding me, I shouted at him that I hate him because he's a demon.

I remember Blue's face when I said that. He was shocked, really shocked. When I thought he was gonna punish me, his face got neutral, no smile, no scowl, nor glare, nothing. Instead, he turned his back away and ignored me. I was surprised but decided to ignore him too. It went on for a week, with all the six Blops following after Blue. They still gave me food, bath, and clothed me. But there were no kisses and hugs, the Blops wouldn't play with me, they wouldn’t talk with me. They just left me alone. On the seventh day of the week, I cried so loud, asking for forgiveness.

Of course, the Blops quickly forgave me. There were kisses and hugs and how awful it was for the Blops to hold back. Blue told that every Blop understands. The shout, the violence, and the hate towards demons are just anger I kept inside for Lucifer.

So I told the Blops everything. From the memory when I was a human, to be reborn as Lucifer’s daughter, and asking why am I put into this situation. There are so many humans in the world, and I was the one who isekai into an awful unfortunate character.

The Blops didn’t understand, but they still love me the same. In fact, they love me more than ever. So did I.

Green then taught me how to meditate, to control my anger, and not to bottle everything in me. The Blops told me to tell them everything that is in my heart. And I always did, and the Blops always comfort me.

I open my eyes, feeling a bit relieved. I decided to let the teacher have it my way. It doesn’t matter if I had a week detention. On weekends, I’ll be back in my cabin with my Blops, talking bad things about Miss Vile.

Ufufu. I’ve already imagined Pink and Yellow when we gossip.

I had a smile as I walked in the dorm building. I reached my room with a hum and placed my hand on the doorknob.

BANG!

"Hello, little demon~"

Someone grabbed my mouth and slammed me against the doors. My eyes widened as I recognized who it was. It was the same demon who walked me to my room on the first day. My body froze.

"Ahahah, it's so easy to munch little demons like yourself," the demon licked his lips with a twisted smile and lustful eyes. I shivered in fear, my mind went blank. "Already excited, heh? How about we do it in your room?"

His words snapped me out of my entrance, and I struggled. He strengthened his holds, nails digging into the skin of my shoulder. I scream under his palm.

"Stop struggling, you bitch!"

I panicked and grabbed his arm holding my mouth. Then I saw. A purple glow flashed before us.

“Argh! What is this??!”

He let me go. I felt power surging through from Mephisto’s mark on my wrist. Like an ocean wave, the surge power pushed the demon far away to the end of the hallway into a window that was suddenly open by itself, and he went flying.

I watched as he faded away. His scream became distand. I gasped for breath and went fumbling with my keys to open my bedroom door and crawled inside. I closed the door with my back. It took forever with my trembling fingers to lock the door, twice. Then, I screamed and cried on my knees. I didn't care if any demons heard me. Hell, they might have heard and wouldn't care a thing.

Thoughts flooded in of what could've happened. That demon was really going to molest me. I could've-

I felt my stomach churn, and I threw up on the floor. All the contents from my stomach was emptied. When it was over, I stared at the leftover food I had this evening. Then I cried and lay beside my own retch. I didn't care about the smell. I only wanted my trembling body to subside.

This was a reminder that I was still in hell.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The next morning arrived, and I felt terrible. I had a headache, stomach cramps, and was in a completely rock bottom mood. I really didn’t want to go to school, but I had to since it's still the first week. I couldn’t afford another bad rap with a teacher. In fact, they might use this to bully me. Mocking my background. I really had enough.

Fortunately, no demons were talking about last night. They might not even care or might be too busy discussing Mephistopheles' success and the exchange program. Lucky me.

All day, I kept my head down and stayed alert, hoping I wouldn't pass by that demon from last night. There’s no way he would let go of what happened. In fact, he must've planned something to torture me. Maybe giving me a cursed object? Hypnotizing me, drugging me—anything could happen!

I felt like throwing up again, but I held on with my hand over my mouth. I hadn't eaten anything this morning, but my stomach felt sick, like when you ride a roller coaster after eating.

Half the day had gone by, and it was lunchtime. I was walking in the hallway between students toward the cafeteria.

"Agh!" I felt my cape being pulled back. My foot almost lost its balance, and I looked over my shoulder, my body freezing.

"What are you doing?" Mammon asked with a smirk, as if he had caught me stealing a cookie jar.

"I... wha!" I yelped. Mammon pulled me forward by my red cape. "Hey!!!" I protested as I tried to keep my feet on the ground. Then I felt someone grab my arm.

“Mammon! Don’t pull her like that!” Carina protested, pulling me toward her. I leaned backward while Mammon still grabbed my cape. My posture probably looked stupid, as all the students were watching us.

“Argh! Shut up, human!” Mammon pulled my cape again.

I grabbed my cape, begging him. "Wh-what do you want from me?!"

Mammon frowned, looking at me as if I’m stupid. My heart twisted with fear. If Mammon had figured me out, this might be why he's bothering me right now – he's going to act all obsessed with me. My brain imagined all the possible ways this could go.

"Wait! Please, just," I stuttered, frantically looking around the hallway for an escape. "Please, let me go," I pleaded, holding back tears. Mammon tilted his head.

“Mammon, come on, don’t pull the poor little girl,” Carina said.

I glanced at her smiling at me. She reminds me of Kristin. Even in hell, she still tries to be nice to everyone. To a demon. I gulped down my throat. Both of us are poor, unfortunate souls. Doomed for a lifetime of torture from the demons here in Devildom. But unlike Carina, I’m going to survive. I’m going to survive from this dem-!

Mammon released my cape. I gasped as I was released. Mammon stared at us, hand on his hips. I took a deep breath and tried to think of an escape. If I ran, Mammon would catch me for sure.

"Let's go, I'm hungry!" Mammon exclaimed and walked away.

“Come on, Lami!” Carina still grabbing my arm, pulling me forward. My body is still completely stiff from the shock and I just followed. But, if there is a slight opening, I’ll run like hell.

[warpedlegacywrites]

The Reign, ch19: The Sky Is Watching

Theresa and her band make their way through the Fallow Mire.

“Remind me to thank Harding for properly informing us about the water!” Dorian shouted. His own reserves were running low, forcing him to resort to using his staff as a melee weapon. A hard swing knocked a skull clean off the shoulders of the nearest corpse. It bounced across the mossy ground until it was crunched beneath one of the Iron Bull’s massive boot heels.  Bull barely noticed, carving a wide swathe with his greataxe. His battle-roar was nearly a match for the menacing thunder overhead. At least he was having fun.  “You could have stayed at camp and let Solas take your place,” Blackwall reminded Dorian, plunging his sword straight through an exposed ribcage and swinging up, cutting the corpse in half from the waist up.  “And miss out on this lovely display of southern charm?” Dorian gave an aggravated cry as his boots sunk into the wet mud, holding him in place. He was forced to expend energy he barely had to fend off more bodies with a spout of flame while he dislodged himself.  Cole, who was similarly ensnared, declared forlornly, “The mud wants my feet to stay.”  “It certainly does.” Dorian tsked over his unsalvageable boots. “Is this what Fereldans might consider a tourist trap?”  “Aw, what’s the matter?” Bull called mid-swing. “Not enough slaves to rub your footsies?”  “My footsies are freezing, thank you!” Dorian gritted his teeth and pushed back against a particularly determined skeletal figure, sending it right into Brycen’s shield, which promptly shattered it. “If this is what spring is like, I shudder to think of summer. However do you manage winters?”  That last was directed at me, since Dorian knew I shared his distaste for the cold. I tossed him a chastising look before sizing up a gathering cluster of corpses charging straight at me. I channelled my annoyance into a chain of lightning, dispatching them all at once before they could summon more.  “Once again,” I told him, panting heavily, “I’m from Ostwick, not Ferelden.” I sank the end of my staff into the mud and leaned on it, hazarding a glance around. That appeared to be the last of them. For now. My scarf had fallen from my nose at some point during the fighting, and I quickly adjusted it back into place. “Although honestly, nationality doesn’t seem to matter much when you’re a mage.” Mattrin and Margot exchanged awkward glances, making me feel just a little guilty for my bitter tone. But only a little.  “Unless you’re Tevinter.” Dorian clapped me on the shoulder, using me for support while he caught his breath. “Then it appears to be the only thing that matters.” “Ehh, quit your whining and hike up your skirt, mage boy,” Bull grunted and rested his axe over his shoulders with arms stretched from one end to the other.  Dorian glared daggers at him. “At least I’m wearing clothes. Why are you always bare-chested?”  “Just for your benefit, big guy.” Bull flashed his teeth in a hungry grin while Dorian sputtered and struggled to come up with a snappy rebuttal.  

DAFF Tag List: @rakshadow, @rosella-writes, @effelants, @bluewren, @breninarthur,

@ar-lath-ma-cully, @dreadfutures, @ir0n-angel, @inquisimer, @crackinglamb,

@theluckywizard, @oxygenforthewicked, @exalted-dawn-drabbles, @melisusthewee, @blarrghe,

@agentkatie, @delicatefade, @leggywillow, @about2dance, @plisuu,

@hekaerges

[kaaragen]

By the Scenic Route

(A short(ish) fic inspired by this conversation with @stellanslashgeode)

Ahsoka glared at her datapad as if narrowing her eyes further would force the information to align in a way she liked. Sat in the Noti pod that was now her base of operations, the data was refusing to comply. However she spun it, twisted it, rearranged it, pleaded with it, argued, and threatened to throw it against the wall, the datapad was resolute.

No purgil migrations would be happening for another two years. Minimum.

Which meant her chances of escaping Peridia were zilch. Nada. Nought.

She sighed and leaned back against the cold metal of the wall, stretching her legs out across her cot, long lekku draping down toward her waist. Months they’d been out here, with no sign of a way out. She’d briefly scouted the space around the planet with Huyang, scoping with the sensors as far as possible, but wherever Peridia was it was the ass-end of it. Nothing was out there for light years.

And while she was stuck here, Thrawn was back home. Doing who knew what. Yes, sure, she trusted Ezra, trusted Hera and Luke and everyone, but still.

The sound of running feet scuffing through dust twitched her montrals and the sigh was leaving her lips before Sabine even skidded to the open hatch.

“Master!” Sabine shouted, doing nothing for Ahoska’s headache. “The bandits are attacking!”

Ahsoka feathered fingers to her temple. “Sabine, for the love of the Force, can you and Shin find other ways of hanging out...”

Sabine looked affronted, even as her cheeks reddened. “Hang out--what do--they’re murderous, rampaging bandits!”

Ahsoka crossed her arms sourly. “Really? And when was the last time they murdered something more valuable than flowers?”

“I--”

“Never mind!” Ahsoka threw up her hands and stood, storming past Sabine and into the cold light of the village. The Noti looked spectacularly unbothered for people apparently about to be raided, going about their daily tasks of mending the curving, snail-like pods, caring for the children and organising the supplies. A couple poked their eyestalks toward Ahsoka and Sabine but most paid them no mind as Ahsoka strode for her howler, Yoti, snoozing at the edge of the village circle. She gestured and Yoti responded to her presence, yawning and stretching.

“I’m going out,” Ahsoka said, gathering up her saddle and reins and putting them on Yoti, “I place you in full charge of the defence of the village.”

Sabine put her hands on her hips, frowning. “Well, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“You’re welcome Padawan. Enjoy the lightsabre duel. Make sure the plant pots stay safe.” She cracked the reigns and Yoti shot off, bounding across the mottled earth.

“Sheesh...go have a wank or something, don’t take your frustration out on me...” she heard Sabine mutter.

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

Ahsoka wasn’t aware of how long she rode, or even where. The light didn’t change much at the best of times, and much of the planet had a drab, hewn grey. But she could pick out some markers to lead her back to the Noti. For everything else, she had the Force.

She breathed deeply. Casting her eyes up into the cloudless day, the pale blue of the sky revealed nothing, save for the purple line cutting across the heavens like a lightsabre blade. Huyang had determined that that phenomenon, whatever it was, was several million lightyears away but was unable to determine what it was. Focusing on it and questing through the Force in the past had brought Ahsoka nothing but a deep, sickly feeling so she’d ignored it since.

What was she going to do? Everything inside her was screaming at her with visions of destruction, death, returning to the galaxy to fine the Empire renewed and everyone she knew gone. Again.

Sometimes she could shut it out. Sometimes she could keep it quiet. But there were nightmares. And during the day, they would intrude into her consciousness, jabbing like needles into her skin.

It was happening again.

She breathed. She let the rhythmic thump of her mount’s stride reverberate. She reached through the echoing pulse of her feet striking the ground. Followed the ripple of its waves into the grass. Followed the pollen leaking from the grass up and up into the air. Followed them as they dappled down, landing across furrowed ground and then some tools and then the sides of a hut and up and up and landing on...

Something...familiar?

She opened her eyes, confused. Ahsoka cast her gaze to the East and directed Yoti to follow a path she hadn’t traversed before. The path led her toward a mountain, where tumbled statues fell across the ground, large stone hands that had once been upraised in triumph now beseeching to anyone passing by. She ignored them, focusing on the horizon getting closer and closer, crossing a small stream.

The curve of the planet unrolled and she came across a small hut with a flat roof, sat at the end of a ploughed field. Several crops poked from the furrows of the ground, some hanging fruits as well as rooted vegetables. Ahsoka swung off the howler, and walked across the field, her eyes never leaving the figure sitting in a cross-legged meditation pose on the hut’s roof.

Ahsoka halted a meter away and stared. “Barriss?”

Barriss Offee, for it was she, cracked open an eye and turned her head slightly. She wore a plain, loose black tunic, a shawl wrapped over her hair, the black freckles of her diamond tattoos across her nose and cheeks standing out from the yellow skin. A few lines streaked her face, but still recognisably her.

“Ah, hello Ahsoka,” she said, closing her eyes again. “My apologies, I’m in the middle of completing an exercise. Would you mind waiting?”

Ahsoka raised a bewildered brow.

Barriss’ eyes flew open and her mouth twisted into a rictus. She toppled off the side of her hut as if she’d had a heart attack.

Thud!

“...Owww...”

Ahsoka looked down at Barriss, rather inelegantly sprawled upside down with her ankles in the region of her ears, wincing at what was an almighty whack to the head when she fell.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Ahsoka asked, more in shock than anything else.

“I live here!” Barriss replied. She scooted herself around to a seated position, rubbing the back of her head. She cast a vicious glare at Ahoska, as if she’d missed a ‘private property - keep out!’ sign. “What are you doing here?”

“I...” Ahsoka started and then trailed off. She’d been asking herself that same question, repeatedly. “I...live here too...I guess.”

“You guess? Are you not aware?” Barriss scoffed, getting to her feet. She froze slightly and cast a worried eye at her. “You’re not...you’re not here for...?”

“You? No. Until this moment I had no idea you were here.” Ahsoka frowned. “What are you doing here?”

A dry, mirthless chuckle escaped Barriss’ throat. “What do you think? Hiding. Trying to find some semblance of life away from it all. I had to run to entirely different galaxy to escape my demons.” She paused, her expression falling into a pit. “Seems they found me anyway.”

Ahsoka swallowed. “I’m...Barriss I’m not looking to...” She shook her head. “How did you find your way here?”

“The fairy tales. I always like them. I read up on purgil migration patterns and thought I’d take the chance. Anything was better than...than where I was.” She cleared her throat. “The Inquisitorious...it was...”

“I know,” Ahsoka interrupted. “We found the list.”

She’d spent days staring at it, when she’d seen Barriss’ name among the reports, declared dead some two years after the rise of the Empire. There had been a part of her that had ached. Ached for the loss of closure. For the missed opportunity to talk. But she’d put it away and had largely not thought about Barriss for nearly thirty years.

Now she was suddenly, quietly, back in her life.

She almost couldn’t process it. There was the face she remembered from her youth. Older now, but still her. The person she’d almost died with, multiple times. The person she’d gone through a war with. The person she’d grown up with.

The person she’d felt...

Who had betrayed...

Barriss’ eyes flicked to her, and their gazes hooked into each other for a long moment.

Barriss’ lip trembled. “I...I wouldn’t presume to hope that you’d know...but I want to say that I’m so sorry for--”

“Barriss, stop.”

Just like that, she couldn’t take it anymore. She collapsed into a squat, energy draining out of her. Her arms hung limp over her knees and Barriss said nothing, just watched her.

“I’m...I’m so tired.” Admitting it felt strange, but it came with a pulse of truth. She took a deep breath and ploughed through. “I get it. I don’t agree with what you did, but I understand it. I’ve been fighting, constantly, since I was fourteen years old. The Empire has been gone for twelve years and I’m still fighting. Even now, stuck here, all of my thoughts are about trying to get back, trying to keep fighting, and what will happen if I don’t.

“I was angry with you. I’m not going to lie, I spent a lot of hours imagining confronting you in the aftermath of...of it...”

“Did any of them take place in a galaxy far, far away?” Barriss asked weakly.

Ahsoka cracked a smile. “No, but a spectacular number ended with you getting punched.”

Barriss’ face twitched. “Can’t say I wouldn’t have deserved it.”

“But seeing you, now, just makes me think...that I’m too exhausted for this anymore. I’m too exhausted to stay angry. Or anything.”

A long silence stretched between them.

Barriss cleared her throat. “I don’t...I don’t want to give advice but...if you really can’t get back, then perhaps take that as a sign?”

Ahsoka squinted up at her.

“The Force and I...we don’t have the best relationship. I’m trying to find my way back to it, to let it back into my life. But it’s been good out here. It gave me time to think. To decompress. To...” She waggled her hands. “To rest. Maybe you’re getting a signal that you should do the same?”

Ahsoka swallowed. There as a part of her that rebelled at that idea. That couldn’t stand the idea that she should just leave things be. That wanted to rage against the infinite box she was placed in. But...but what good would it do to even return to the galaxy if she was this tired?

Her confrontation with Anakin had told her something; that death wasn’t the right path. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have some rest. That she couldn’t take a break. That she couldn’t let herself truly breathe...

She chuckled softly and stood. Maybe the Force had led her with its pollen path?

“Thanks, Barriss. I think I needed to hear that.”

Barriss smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You’re welcome, Ahsoka. May the Force be with you.”

Ahsoka nodded and turned to go to Yoti. She reached halfway across the field, before pausing and then swinging back. Barriss stared at her, rooted to the spot, eyes wide and a trembling across her face.

Ahsoka swallowed and opened her mouth--

“Do you want to see my village?”

Barriss blinked. “What?”

Ahsoka squeezed her eyes shut. All the vaunted maturity she’d thought she’d gained over the years fled out of her system and suddenly she was a teenager again, desperate to say something but not knowing how to or even what the something was beyond a vague feeling. But this time the feeling was clear: she wanted her friend back.

She opened her eyes, and there was Barriss and for the first time she saw all the fear that had coagulated in her being. “Do you...do you think we could just pretend that we talked it all out a long time ago? That we moved past it?”

Barriss held still a moment, then she crumpled back against her hut. Her breath came thick and short, and she squeezed her eyes closed. For a moment, Ahsoka thought she was going to vomit, but she seemed to get herself under control.

“I would like that,” she gasped. “I would like that very much.”

A wave of relief, carrying with it a long-buried feeling, settling over her like an old cloak. Not exactly comfy, perhaps, and maybe not fitting right anymore. But comfortable, with the familiar scent providing warmth. She walked to Barriss and lightly put her hand on her shoulder. Barriss looked up at her wide-eyed, hopeful and scared.

“Then let’s do that.” Ahsoka smiled.

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

The ride back was comfortable, the two catching up on the way. Barriss didn’t have much to tell, apart from her “less-than-daring escape” as she put it, and Ahsoka chided her to come up with something more entertaining to tell later. From Ahsoka’s side there was so much.

“So they built two superweapons?” Barriss queried, riding behind Ahsoka on the mount, her hands resting on Ahsoka’s thighs in a light way that suggested she was afraid of touching something scalding.

“Yeah. I think there must have been an underspend in the budget somewhere.”

“And they called this planet killing weapon the Death Star?”

“They sure did.”

“What have they called the solar system destroying weapon? The Sun Crusher? The Starkiller?”

Ahsoka laughed. They crested a rise and came onto view the village, the pods all miraculously undestroyed and unraided.

“Here we are,” Ahsoka said. “It’s not much, but it’s a base.”

“It looks lovely. I’ve traded with the Noti before. Very friendly people. You’ve done well.” Barriss squinted past Ahsoka’s arm. “Are those Scar-Waste Bandits?”

“Yes.” Ahsoka frowned. Alright, this was unusual. Usually the bandits scuttled off after a bit of ritual bellowing and a lightsabre fight between Sabine and Shin, that usually ended with Shin fleeing and threatening vile retribution like some HoloNet serial villain. But this time, they were hanging about. Drinking tea with the Noti, spinning some of the kids in their disc-shaped hats, and generally being pleasant people. Their helmets were off, pale blue skin with green eyes peering out. “This isn’t normal.”

“From my experience, they’re not ones to trade or be pleasant, even when it would be more advantageous to them. But they leave you alone if you give them a sufficiently thorough kicking.”

Ahsoka raised a brow at Barriss, and her cheeks darkened. “They caught me on a bad day and took a potato crop that had just ripened. I’m not perfect!”

Ahsoka slid off Yoti and Barriss followed her through the village. She reached out, trying to locate Sabine and twigged her presence as coming from their pod.

With...someone else...

Ahsoka halted outside of the pod, the hatch door shut. “Sabine?” she called.

Someone swore. There was a fumbling, stumbling noise, two people in a hushed argument. Sounds of items being thrown and clinking against the walls and floor. An isolated curse. And then the hatch popped open and Sabine popped out, flushed and panicked and wearing a light grey tunic that was familiar and also not Sabine’s.

“Oh! Hey, Master, I thought you would be longer--that is, it’s good to see you back!”

“Master?” Barriss queried with a twitch of her lips.

Ahsoka flapped her hand. “What are you doing?” she asked Sabine.

“Uh...well, actually, I’m in the process of negotiating a peace treaty with the bandits.”

“Really?” Ahsoka’s voice dripped with so much sarcasm it nearly pooled at her feet.

“Pretty intense negotiations actually.” Sabine toed her boot into the ground, the ankle and leg above its hem bare.

Ahsoka closed her eyes and let out a suffering sigh. She turned to Barriss. “I don’t suppose I could stay at your place?”

For what might have been the first time in her life, Ahsoka saw a genuine smile cross Barriss’ face. She slid her hand into Ahsoka’s and gently squeezed.

“Come on, I’ll take you home by the scenic route.”

Home. She liked the sound of that word and the implications it held.

Ahsoka squeezed the hand back. “That sounds like just what I need.”

[backjustforberena]

As you mentioned, when it comes to the book, there are two possibilities: either Rhaenys didn’t know, or she did know, and her reaction simply wasn’t recorded. However, we can be sure of one thing: book Rhaenys would never have silently accepted the betrayal.

We know this from how she confronts Jaehaerys, openly challenging him when he tries to take away her birthright. We also see it in her behavior during the Black Council, where she’s willing to go to war with all the dragons, even those of her youngest grandchildren, just to defeat the greens, who have just commited treason.

Do you really think this Rhaenys would remain silent and not even question Corlys if she found out?

The truth is, in the show, they’ve stripped away the fire that made Rhaenys a fierce and impetuous woman—the same fire that would have made her a great ruler. Instead, she’s been reduced to a wife who’s willing to turn a blind eye to everything just to keep her husband by her side. This is especially clear when, after Corlys has been gone for six years, she merely remarks that he was a jerk, but quickly returns to her role as the faithful wife.

I don't accept your conceit that there are two ways to react. And two ways that Rhaenys would have reacted, and that she would have reacted the same no matter where she was in her life when she found it out, if she found out. I don't think the text is good enough for that.

Again, you can believe this and there's nothing to say you're wrong in any massive way. But there's so much grey area that, for me, I hold back off anything that feels too much like an assumption. We cannot "be sure" that book Rhaenys would never have silently accepted the betrayal, just as much as we can't even be sure that she did silently accept the betrayal - as I've said, she could have had a reaction that simply isn't recorded.

Because, for every shouting match she has with Jaehaerys, there's radio silence on the slights she and her house later receive. For every position of strength at the Black Council (I disagree with your reading but that's by the by), we have the choice to not go to war over her own claim or swear vengeance against someone, or take her dragon to the Stepstones, or protest against something or someone.

Rhaenys was 18, bereft, aggrieved and hormonal when she cursed her grandfather. How might a (hypothetically) 40+ year old woman react? What if she found out during Corlys's fever, even? Things change as people change. So, as much as she could have reacted similarly to Corlys as she did to Jaehaerys, she could easily have not. The reasons are still there.

Rhaenys, as a character is silent during Viserys's reign. We don't have anything for her. Even during massive scenes on Driftmark, there is nothing about where she is or how she reacts (except scant references in line with Corlys; them as a unit, following their children's deaths). We don't know where she was when Laena died. How she was when Corlys was ill or Vaemond killed on her shores. We don't know how she reacted during the events of Laenor's funeral. There is zip.

For a supposedly tempestuous woman, we have nothing. So, why would we have something about Corlys's affair? Ergo, we can't rule out her knowing and not saying or knowing and saying or not knowing and therefore not saying. That's three options right there, and then you can break it down into whatever reactions, at whatever point in time that you like. We can assume away,and we can have theories, as you have, but we can't know. The text doesn't allow it.

Do I really think this Rhaenys would remain silent and not even question Corlys if she found out? In the book? I don't know. I can't know. The information isn't there for me to make that judgement call, because we can't be certain that she didn't find out, didn't remain silent, didn't question Corlys. A situation could be that she knows, and said nothing, and the text in the book would, honestly, remain EXACTLY the same. It wouldn't be undermined at all.

You're right. In the show, Rhaenys isn't impetuous. She doesn't just do things for the hell of it and not worry about consequences or perception. She observes, thinks, is cautious, is political. She's fiercely intelligent and pragmatic and has the best poker face in Westeros. That's how she's survived. How she's been raised.

If she'd been impetuous, then she'd have been a threat. If she'd been impulsive, she'd have waged war when she was passed over. If she were led by betrayals felt and emotion then she wouldn't have acted in a way that kept peace.

You say the fire would have made her a great ruler? She has fire. She absolutely has fire. She'd never cowed, not once, in that show. She just controls it. She doesn't suggest sending dragons to war because look at what that looks like.

She's never belittled or been shy or been afraid. Corlys doesn't order her or threaten her or infantilise her or undermine her. She speaks her mind and she does so freely unless she chooses not to - there is no external force pressuring her. She's not named Hand but she takes a place at the head of that table and keeps order whilst Rhaenyra is absent. She takes on leadership roles and she rules Driftmark when Corlys is away at war and at sea. She makes her choice, independent of Corlys, to support Rhaenyra. She has spirit, and will, and wisdom. She's tough. She's complex. Basically... she's human. Not a few lines here and there.

The one reducing her here... is you. She's not what you want. She's not what you expect, and that's fine. You're allowed those feelings. Just as I'm allowed to say that I disagree with you. Rhaenys "merely remarks" that he was a jerk and then returns to her "role" as the "faithful wife"? As if that's the only thing she is?

And, funnily enough, "faithful wife" is the description used for her in the actual book. But, it seems, to you, that "faithful wife" is an insult. Why is that? Do you suppose it suggests something bidable? A pushover? Hyper-femenine and subservient? Existing only to serve the man she married?

Rhaenys loves Corlys, that's what you're not talking about. This isn't a sad state or sorry role she's landed with. She loves him and doesn't want to hurt him any more than he needs to be hurt. How she reacts is her choice and it is not one motivated by fear, meekness or weakness.

Do you not see what utter strength it is to put aside your own hurt because there's a fricking war looming and they need to get their act together to help? Do you not see how she told him, point-blank, glaring, that he had abandoned her? What that did to Corlys - who, yes, was a jerk for leaving her, but had done so without malice and returns knowing it had been a mistake, wanting to make it right? Did you not see her tell him what they needed to do and make him swear to Rhaenyra, and to fight?

She is not passive in that marriage, in the show. And she exists outside of Corlys and for reasons other than Corlys. I'm sorry if Rhaenys didn't match up to how she is in you head, but to say she wasn't fierce is absurd.

[canmom]

The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere: 013-032

Previously: 000-012, spinoff post about entropy [all Flower posts]

Time for more flower...

...no, not that flower!

Unless...?

Welcome back to my liveblog of sorts for web novel The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere by @lurinatftbn! Shout out to the Flower discord for giving me such a kind welcome. You're making me want to go all out on this liveblog, but, I musn't...! So I'm going to try to just comment on things that jumped out as especially noteworthy rather than write down everything that went down.

Especially since... a lot happened in these chapters. We have a perfect androgyne tree thing! Magical duels! Questionable student/teacher relationships! Steamed hams! Intense political arguments at dinner! Metafictional assurance of fair play! Prosognostic events! Transgender AIs! And of course........

a murder!!!!!

...ok that one was kinda obvious. But the first body has hit the floor! I don't feel like I have nearly enough information yet to start speculating about who might have dunnit.

That's a lie. It was definitely Kinzo Ushiromiya. That bastard.

So, from the top!

We're introduced to a few of the members of the Order, with by far the most screen time going to Su's mentor and ah, kinda-girlfriend? Neferuaten. And like, damn, lot going on there!

Before I get into the meat of that - first the bit where I search a character's name on Wikipedia. Neferuaten's name is most likely a reference to an Egyptian female king/pharaoh (a rank that's apparently distinct, conceptually, from a queen) variously called Ankhkheperure-Merit-Neferkheperure, Waenre, and Aten Neferneferuaten. Most often shortened to just Neferneferuaten.

Her exact historical identity seems to be a little unclear - she may or may not be the same person as Nefertiti for example. Whoever she was, she apparently reigned for a couple of years around 1334–1332 BCE, and was then succeeded by the famous child king Tutankhamun. Or maybe Smenkhkare came in between them? Seems to be a matter of some debate. Girl really needed to leave a few more vast and trunkless legs of stone so we can figure this stuff out.

In any case, this version of Neferuaten goes way back with Su. Her introduction is to launch a magical attack on our poor girl while she's contemplating the 'everblossom'. One of those classic 'master surprise attacks the student to see how much they've learned' deals. This servers as a fine exposition for the exact mechanics of magical duels.

Zettai! Ummei! Mokushiroku!

Let's briefly note how magical duels and magic works here, since it seems like it will be very relevant later.

The more we learn about magic, the more explicit is that this system is not some natural property of the universe, but something that's designed by the mysterious Ironworkers. It seems like it's kind of an API to the Ironworker admin console. The Ironworkers wanted to make it difficult to do magic on human bodies, and therefore they designed a system for detecting what is 'human', based on three heuristics - anatomical, motion and neurological.

Humans, being the freaky little hackers that we are, of course set about figuring out how to bypass this system, and created standardised means, consisting of three spells, termed [x]-beguiling arcana. In a sense the three criteria are something like three 'hitpoints': the primary way to win a duel is to get all three spells off, thus making your opponent vulnerable to magic.

To achieve this, you can either speak the words of a spell or sign them by drawing them with your fingers - i.e. one way or the other express the appropriate string of symbols. This is risky because if you're interrupted at the wrong time, your spell can backfire and blow up, and getting a spell right requires precise pronunciation and also rapid mental maths. So the general 'gameplay' of magical duels involves attempting to disrupt the opponent's focus and aim, while fast-casting the spells that are most familiar to you.

We're introduced to a few spells that could be useful in battle, such as

Matter-Shifting (telekinesis spell with a geometric bent, used to move a cube of dirt to act as a smokescreen),

Matter-Annihilating (deletes stuff),

Entropy-Denying (essentially a shield that freezes objects and fluids in relative motion),

Air-Thrusting (creates a shockwave air blast),

Light-Warping (fucks up the light for visual cover),

World-Deafening (mutes all sound, which can interrupt casts)

Entropy-Accelerating (disrupts coherency, causing rapid aging-like effects - can be used on a 'higher plane' to disrupt all magic in an area)

Entropy-Reversing (rewinds matter along its path of motion - reference to entropy here seems a tad dubious but w/e)

It's clearly a pretty carefully thought out system - I appreciate that it's approached from the point of view of someone trying to exploit the shit out of the system and figure out what the real meta would be. It does kinda seem like if you got the drop on a wizard and shot them with a sniper rifle they'd be toast, but we'll see later that much more powerful weapons than mere chemical firearms exist in this world, and presumably in a combat situation everyone would have entropy-denying (or equivalent) shields up, so maybe that's a moot point.

Anyway, we are later informed by the closest thing to authorial voice that everything we're told here about magic can be assumed to be axiomatically true, similar to the red text in Umineko. Which pretty heavily foreshadows that this is going to be on the test, if you like!

the magical metaphysics

With apologies to Neferuaten, who will get more detailed comments shortly, there are some other big revelations about magic and the nature of this world that I should talk about while we're on the subject of magic!

In the last post I wondered whether casting magic is an innate quality or a 'skill issue' situation. It turns out the answer is sorta 'neither'. In fact, it's something that has to be unlocked, using special equipment and a particular ritual. The cost of this ritual is not yet entirely spelled out, but we definitely get an inkling. It's rather ominously implied by this exchange in chapter 22:

"We're supposed to want to save people, to make the world better. To defend a bunch of people who practically committed murder--" "You're a murderer too, dour girl." I stopped, and blinked. It took me some moments to process the words. They'd come from Lilith, who now seemed to have finished with her dessert. Now she was just slowly swirling her spoon around in the last remnants of the chocolate sludge on the plate and, occasionally, dipping a finger into her cream bowl and licking little bits of it up. Her expression was irritated, but disconnected. "All arcanists are," she said. "It's how it happens. So having fights over moral high ground like this is very stupid and annoying. Please stop."

In the same chapter, Su uses something called an 'acclimation log', in which she records her 'association' with a series of diary entries from her childhood self. It all suggests that Su's present consciousness has somehow taken over the body of another character, who we could maybe call original!Su.

A few chapters later, we find out what's the deal with prosognostic events. In fact we get a pretty extensive exposition. It turns out that iron is magical in this universe, providing access to higher dimensions, FTL and all sorts of shit. However, because the Mimikos and other worlds are running on a 'substrate' of iron - sort of like a simulation - we are told this is why they can't recursively include iron within. And since the human body includes a certain amount of iron (most notably, in the haemoglobin protein in red blood cells), it is not possible to fully realise the human body inside these artificial worlds.

a self-referential quibble

Here's how Su puts it:

A substrate cannot exist within itself. That sounds awkward when I put it so directly, but it's not too hard to understand if you think about it in abstract-- A foundation obviously can't support another foundation of equal weight and nature, because… Well, it would make nonsense of the whole premise. A book is a device for storing information, but it cannot contain within its letters everything about itself and what it contains, because that is already more than it contains. A box cannot hold another box of equal size, unless it is bent or otherwise changed. A mind cannot hold another mind…

On the face of it, this seems on the face of it... not entirely true, at least in some domains? You can run a virtual machine program on a computer, representing any particular combination of hardware and software, which is from the perspective of software 'on the inside', essentially indistinguishable from a computer running on 'bare metal' hardware. The only real difference is that operating the virtual machine has some computational overhead, so it will be slower. The more virtual machines you nest, the slower it gets.

But 'from the inside', the only way to tell which layer of virtual machine you're on would be to refer to some kind of external clock signal (which can trivially be spoofed) and notice that it's running slower than it should!

We could also mention here the subject of quines, which are programs which print their own source code.

Let's consider Su's examples. The book that completely describes its contents might be able to get around this problem in a similar fashion to a quine, by exploiting redundancy and self-reference.

For example, let's try creating a string that completely describes its own content, using a quine-style technique.

This string begins with a sentence followed by its quotation, and then 100 letter ws; the sentence is: "This string begins with a sentence followed by its quotation, and then 100 letter ws; the sentence is: " wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

In fact the '100 letter ws' could literally be the entire string that follows. Suppose the length of the 'real content' of the book is S, and the length of the rest of the 'metadata sentence' describing properties of the book is M; then the total length of the book is 2M+3S.

You can add as much additional information to the 'metadata' string as you like, provided you quote it again afterwards. If you don't like having a book be three times the length it needs to be, you could compress the 'real content' string using an algorithm like DEFLATE, and include instructions in the 'metadata' on how to decompress it. (Text tends to compress really well.) This is where we run up into notions probably all too familiar to rats, or indeed anyone who recently read Seth Dickinson's new novel Exordia, such as Kolmogorov complexity.

But... I think this might well be intentional. Given how common notions like 'stacks of simulations' and 'self-reference' are in rat space, I suspect we may be being misled! The 'rules' of the game - more on that in a moment - say that Su won't deliberately lie to us, and won't withold information without saying so, but her perceptions could be mistaken. Maybe she's been given a false explanation of why the world works the way it does.

It's also totally possible that while the general point (you can't contain a thing in itself) may have some edge cases, the specific instance - you can't build a universe on a giant higher-dimensional iron spike and still have that universe contain iron - may still be true. We don't know the first thing about building universes using magic iron after all.

anyway... the Deal with Prosognisia!

The Ironworkers had a hacky workaround to the 'no iron' rule: they had a few tens of thousands of preserved human bodies on board their Tower of Asphodel. Asphodel, incidentally, is a genus of flower, said to carpet the Asphodel Meadows, one of the three divisions of the realm of Hades. (In their game, Supergiant decided to convert it into a lava zone.) It looks rather pretty actually!

So, they were able to instantiate these bodies in their rebuilt worlds by sort of making them into a reference to one of these stored human bodies. Here's Su again, chapter 26:

Some human bodies, or at least the impression of them and the iron within, had been preserved as part of the Tower, frozen in a timeless place. And because of that, it was eventually discovered it was possible for them to exist in the artificed planes as a sort of stable paradox. After all, while a book can't exist within itself, it can still reference other stuff it does contain internally, even if it makes for somewhat awkward reading. A few tweaks and workarounds solved the problem of the iron associated with that human body staying a part of it, and just like that, human beings were walking something at least akin to the earth once again. However, this only permitted replicas of those bodies within the Tower to exist. The creation of new ones remained impossible, and births not incubated by anima taken by the same mechanism would inevitably fail. And there were far fewer preserved bodies than minds; scarcely more than ten thousand or so for each party.

So every human born in the Mimikos is forked from one of these human bodies. For... mysterious reasons, if you recognise that someone nearby is forked from the same body as you, you both straight up die. If you touch such a person (a 'contact paradox') it's even worse, and all the iron in your body disappears, leaving behind a 'greenish sludge', which seems to be a severe enough disaster to cause deaths of nearby people as well.

(This is a little surprising given that the iron in the human body is only about 60 parts per million by mass, but it would kinda destroy your blood's ability to carry oxygen, so it would definitely be pretty fatal.)

The 'distinction treatment' we heard about is able to mitigate the risks somewhat - with quick medical intervention and time magic, it's possible to allow the people involved to make a full recovery. An interesting wrinkle is that it's implied either Ophelia or new character Balthazar is trans, because normally people of the same gender can't share an upstream body.

That definitely leads to a very fascinating fucked up medical emergency scene, but the reason I'm discussing it now is because it's got bearing on this big-deal question of 'what's so fucked up about arcanists anyway'...

so what's so fucked up about arcanists anyway?

Having finally answered one of the major questions, we can start zeroing in on another. In a flashback scene in chapter 30, we learn that the 'original' bodies have innate access to the magic API, but when you're given a distinct identity at birth you quickly lose it. To have your sv_cheats 1 restored, you have to go through a process that, it would seem, downloads a new mind into your head from one of those original bodies...

The man sat back a little in his chair, crossing his legs idly. "It's intimidating in concept, but please do understand that, in the overwhelming majority of cases, there are no observable effects whatsoever. Around half of the individuals who go through it don't even lose consciousness, and of the other, four out of five don't report any abnormalities when they reawaken. And even of the remaining 10%, the symptoms are negligible for nine out of ten-- Fleeting false memories, minor alterations in temperament that self correct, usually in under a day..." "And the others?" I inquired. "The remaining one percent." He considered this question for a few moments, obviously choosing his words carefully. "The technical term for the rare cases where confusion persists in the longer term is pneumaic assimilation failure. We have a program for treatment, using a combination of various phychological and medical means. It's time-tested. It brings people back to themselves quickly, usually within only only a few months at most." 'Confusion.' 'Brings people back to themselves.' I wasn't feeling fond of the way he couched everything in euphemism. It wasn't helping. "What do you mean by 'it brings people back to themselves'..?" I furrowed my brow. "They just... Forget everything?" "Not immediately," he said. "But they lose a sense of association with... Well, with anything that shouldn't be there, and that leads those memories and feelings to fade over time." He smiled. "The human mind is very adept at excising anything it judges to be out of place. All it needs is a push in the right direction."

The new mind tends to rapidly adjust to its new context, connecting to the memories stored in the body and assuming continuity of identity. But in rare cases it fails! Nuts! And we can infer poor Su appears to be one such case.

Presumably this is what Lilith is referring to when she says that all arcanists are murderers. It's not clear if there is continuity of consciousness when you get /mode +o'd - since you (usually) inherit the memories it is perhaps hard to say whether such a thing is meaningful.

In any case, Su's mega-guilt complex, the reason she seems to want to visit the mysterious egomancer Samium, seems to be at least partly that she's evicted the previous consciousness to inhabit this body. I don't think that's the whole story though! Her grandad seems to be involved somehow too. I don't think Su is literally the reincarnation of her grandad, because it seems unlikely that he'd be motivated to carry out ego suicide like this.

introducing teacher mommy

All those major revelations aside, let's get back to the subject of Neferuaten, aka 'Grandmaster', Su's old mentor in entropic thanatomancy. She quickly establishes herself as one of the most likeable of the inner circle of the Order - she's funny, understanding, generally affable and a little self-effacing. Su definitely puts her on a massive pedestal - though other characters such as Ran find her a little more sussy.

I gotta say, the author is really good at writing old academics. Each one of them comes across as strongly believable, distinctive, motivated and flawed characters. I'll talk a bit about the others in a bit but first let's talk age gap yuri! lmao

Anyway, at the end of chapter 20 we get this:

Then she leaned over and, in an impulsive, almost casual gesture, kissed me on the lips. Before turning, heading to the exit.

'Huh!' thinks the reader. 'That sure is an unusual thing for someone's teacher to do.'

It is quite a few chapters later before Su gets round to telling us a bit more about what's going on...

After that, we met outside of the university more and more often, her becoming sort of a source of emotional support. At some point, I became aware that what was happening was probably quite inappropriate. It's not like I was underage, having turned 25 two years prior, but she was my professor. But I'd been bad at making friends in both of... Well, in both my past contexts, and I'd felt so lonely living in Tem-Aphat, away from Ran and any reminders of the resolutions we'd made. And it all somehow felt so natural. Things got out of hand. One day, I'd had a fight with my father over the logic bridge, and had got a little drunk when I was due to see her. I don't know exactly what I was thinking, but I did something uncharacteristic of me. Inappropriate. But she didn't respond in the way I'd expected. To my shock, she didn't act like it was inappropriate at all. It wasn't as if we ended up dating. That would never have worked, and I was pretty sure she was past wanting that sort of thing anyway. On some levels, she always kept her distance. But it became something we did together, an avenue of private expression that became part of her support for me - and mine, eventually for her.

Su then expresses a bunch of guilt over the whole thing. (Not least because it's a 'selfish' thing she's doing in a body that, implicitly, she doesn't think of as hers.)

The issue of age here is interesting lol. Definitely my gut reaction, and probably the one the story is aiming to elicit, is to be a bit 'wuh oh' by all this, maybe think of Makima wrapping Denji round her finger. That said, by vastly expanding the range of human ages, it's definitely poking pretty hard at our intuitions about what's 'appropriate'. The vibes are like... the students are constantly referred to as 'the kids' by the hundreds-year-old wizards. I don't think we're told Su's current age, but if she was 27 in this flashback, and in the present she says a 29 year old computer is close in age to her, so I would guess currently early 30s. Neferuaten's age is not stated at this point but given her position she's def a few hundred years up there.

The vibe though is that Su is infatuated with someone who has vastly more emotional maturity and experience of the world, not to mention social power over her, and that person is all too happy to encourage it.

The way Su tells it, it sounds like this fling went pretty ok for them? But I definitely feel like things are probably not gonna stay ok, given how clearly the 'inappropriate' nature of this relationship has been foregrounded!

Dark yuri is literally one of the things I'm here for, so I'm looking forward to the fireworks lmao.

Anyway, besides that, we get a bit of a sense of Neferuaten's ideology. She actually shares a lot of Su's skepticism about the viability of the whole immortality project. She makes a big point of making sure the gang get a sense of the order's culture and rituals, apparently viewing this as a chance for their project to be judged by outsiders for the first time. On a personal level, she raises the issue of if the project might be able to save only the young - whether they might be the last humans to not become immortal. Nef's attitude seems to be that she'd be good with that - something she clashes with Kam over.

Otherwise, she's kinda... world-weary, I suppose you could say. She seems to look at the firey youngsters with an attitude along the lines of 'wish I still had that'. She does love to perform to an audience, asking leading questions to set up some lesson or another.

She's a fun character, I enjoy reading her a lot.

Also she seems to have made a sapient AI in the basement! Only everyone says it's definitely not sapient - it is in some sense not agentic, it can't change its motivation, allegedly. Still, it definitely has a 'passing the Turing test' sorta vibe.

don't mention the war

Besides Nef, we get introduced to a few of the remaining members of the class, and also the masters of the Order. Of note is Bardiya, the former revolutionary. He's a very 'speak his mind without preamble' sort of character, which can land him in hot water.

So, returning to Chapter 22, we have a really juicy scene in which a dinner conversation gets very heated after Bardiya mentions his role in the war, provoking a political row with Durvasa, a member of the order. It's a really well observed social dynamics scene - the characters dancing around the topic and the way a row is almost avoided, and then it isn't - Bard's determination, Kam's brown-nosing, Su getting drawn in against her better judgement in a deeply relatable way.

Thanks to this convo, we get a sense of the events of the revolution! So, as @nightpool helpfully informed me, I actually got things a bit mixed up in my rough timeline last time. The 'gerontocrats' were not a feature of the distant-past imperial era - rather it's a figure identified as an oppressor class by a very recent movement, still within living memory for even the youngsters.

The events broadly seem to reflect something like the Paris Commune. There was a famine under the hand of a 'Meritist' city council, killing thousands, which led to a popular uprising let by a 'paritist' movement. The paritists executed a handful of people and redistributed property based primarily on age, intending to break the power of the 'gerontocrats' who had neglected the 'younger generations' by hoarding resources. The Administration overseeing the whole world alliance then cracked down hard - deploying a poison gas that, though it was intended to be nonlethal, turned out to have unexpected lethal side effects.

In the aftermath of the revolution, it seems many reforms were made - besides relaxing the rules on what magic is banned, they changed the equation of scarcity so that food could be replicated more readily? Little unclear on this part. Su mentions that the situation is different now than it was when the Alliance was built, with the material scarcity mostly gone, but clearly there was a famine in recent memory.

Anyway, there is naturally a big generational divide over this. The older generations lived through some pretty fucked-up sounding wars, called things like the 'Great Interplanar War', and in the aftermath built a political system that was supposed to secure peace. (c.f. League of Nations, UN). Although she broadly sympathises with the revolutionaries, Su seems to extends the older generation a fair bit of understanding for having built this system and fearing what would happen if it were destroyed. Though the most relativist view comes from the mouth of Neferuaten:

"I think a common problem with inter-generational communication is an inability to really convey context and scope," Neferuaten said. I noted she didn't actually convey if Kam's understanding of what her point had been was correct or not. "Someone who lived through the Interluminary Strife might tell a young person from the modern day that they have no understanding of hunger, only for the latter to stubbornly retort that they lived through that Ikaryonic famine that preluded the civil dispute… Except that one was a catastrophe that lasted decades and killed tens of millions, while the other slew less than a thousand." She sighed. "People try to relate the experiences of others to their own lives in order to contextualize their understanding of the world and how it might be bettered, but those second-hand experiences inevitably become caricatures, conveying no useful truths. It makes me wonder if human beings, both young and old, are capable of learning from history at all."

Around here is raised the question of a person's political development - the arc from a young person's anger at the state of the world and determination to tear it aside for something better, against the resignation of an older person who fears losing what is already there, however flawed. (We might note of course that there exist young conservatives and old radicals. Circumstances have a lot to do with it.)

Of course, with this whole 'gerontocrat' business at stake already, the mission of the Order hoping to achieve immortality is naturally cast in a dubious light. Fun conflict. On the one hand we have 'can immortality be achieved, and what will it cost', on the other 'who will benefit from it, if it is'! So much narrative force is obtained by politicising this, attaching it to characters with personal motivations and histories, instead of leaving it up to an abstract 'living forever good/bad'.

But it's not all political debates and shagging your teacher...

Over the course of these chapters we get a sense of what the order's been up to!

Let's talk flowers. Just prior to the meeting with Nef, Su comes across an enormous freaky plantlike thing. This turns out to be an experiment to create a being that can survive in even the most extreme environments, like the bottom of the ocean - an attempt to demonstrate that immortality is possible at least in principle. This lifeform is termed the Nittaimalaru or 'Everblossom'. It seems like a pretty good candidate for being the story's eponymous Flower - symbolically, the underwater immortality-granting plant that appears in the Epic of Gilgamesh.

It's worth noting here that 'indefinite lifespan' is actually not entirely impossible in our natural world. I was talking about this with a friend who raised some interesting points:

reading the first post i wanna bring up that while the concept of cancer is fundamental to any multicellular organism the presence of cancer as a problem is actually pretty niche. same with telomere degradation, which is a purposeful anti-cancer measurement. like pretty much all perennial plant life is capable of absolute immortality. while the lobster grows forever until it can no longer use its legs to push its great weight along the sand towards food, if a tree overshoots its growth it's more than happy to break off its unnecessaries, though with both of them at a certain point it's always good to have help after a while. as mammals we're very obsessed with the concept of like ending death as this sort of ultimate goal, prime directive, whatever, when that shit was deliberately turned on in the first place (assigning intent to evolution sue me), because in terms of cost benefit it gave us something in return that we as students of medicine or biology are still not fully grasping.

After a little more discussion:

@play-now-my-lord wrote:

even if humans weren't causing climate change, climactic fluctuations over centuries upend a lot of what is normal in specific areas. if the people on a farmstead in bronze age sweden lived 500 years, the methods and habits they internalized when they were young would habitually be incorrect for the conditions as they existed, the weather, the soil

other friend:

that's how most trees die in the end the root system operates as a weak parallel to the tree's neurons, with a more physiological bent than say our chemical one. patterns around balance, nutrient access, hydrology, and wind are ingrained and learned over centuries and the more regular/consistent that cycle is the more a root will grow. if a tree's roots are built around buttressing from a wind tunnel due to forest conditions and the trees around it fall for whatever reason, it has to relearn what used to be a hundred year old certainty that it needs to lean against the westerly gale every winter, etc. - this is generally a pretty brittle process altogether when it comes to the base of the plant n stuff

some caveats:

should be noted i overlooked a lot of nuance about perennial mortality, like, some plants are more used to investing into survival than others i'm thinking of like how beech bark disease doesn't affect the roots of the beech, so the trunk dies but new shoots continue to grow out and eventually catch the disease and repeat, so the plant is essentially still immortal but forced into a perpetual state of adolescence. but i think for a great number of trees if the tree falls it just goes "eh the rot consumes us all " and dies

Among mammals, we could also note the cancer resistance of the naked mole rat, which loves to defy all sorts of generalisations (also one of the only non-arthropod eusocial animals). They're not exactly immortal, living around 37 years on average, but their chance of dying at any given year is pretty much flat rather than increasing with age.

Of course, longevity and resilience are different things. Nef mentions the resilience of tardigrades as an inspiration. As far as their experiment goes, the 'everblossom' is not an entirely successful experiment, requiring twice-yearly maintenance to address an imbalance.

Given how prominently it features, and the invocation of Gilgamesh, it seems pretty damn likely that the everblossom will in fact be a key to immortality, or something like it.

Religion exists after all!

Other parts of the facility are also pretty funky. We learn that it was patterned after the old headquarters of the Order, which was destroyed when they got found out; that headquarters was built in an old church compound. What sort of thing does a church worship in this world? Actually it's kinda goffic as fuck. Makes Catholicism look downright tame. It's a polytheistic religion and the deities involved are figures like this...

In the center of the circle was a statue, about 8 feet high, and of the kind of ornate-but-formulaic design that characterized art from the Second Resurrection. It depicted a tall, skinny woman, though her two sides, left and right, were very different in nature. The left was beautiful and youthful in a generic, almost ethnicity-less way, dressed in the most delicate of silk peploi, with long and unrealistically tidy curls falling elegantly over her shoulders. Her lip was curled into a gentle half-smile, kind but slightly mysterious, teasing. Her right... Well, her right, to say the least, was very different. On that side, she appeared to be skinless, although it was hard to tell with a statue; I recalled it being a matter of hot debate among the boys in my class back in secondary school. It was possible she was simply incredibly emaciated, or that there were supposed to be growths - like scales - erupting from her flesh. Her hair was made up of hateful, eyeless wyrms, biting and hissing at each other, and her flesh, which was naked save for a tasteful rag covering one area in particular, was covered in numerous stab wounds, bleeding openly. As for her face, it was grim and wide eyed. Mournful and contemptful both. I recognized the figure depicted at once; I passed one of her temples whenever I went to the distribution hall to pick up groceries. This was Phui, Dying Goddess of Love Given Way To Anguish, one of the eleven deities of the now largely defunct Ysaran-Inotian Pantheon.

In the stories, Phui was the third-to-last of the gods to fall during the end of the world, who attempted to take her own life after the death of her lover. But the breaking of the heavens had left her unable to die, meaning that no matter how she much she cut into her flesh, how much she starved herself of food and drink, reprieve would never come. Only relentless, unceasing pain, and grief for that which she had lost.

Metal album cover ass-religion, I'm into it.

The mysterious Ironworkers seem to have really drummed into the population of their new Mimikos that there was a very nice world once, and they'd better be damn sad about what happened to it. However, religion has waned in the present day, and it seems most characters are atheists of some sort.

What did happen to it, anyway? It's referred to as 'the collapse' with a lowercase c; I noticed an author's comment where the author says it's not a case of just a name for the apocalypse. A few people in the comments started speculating about false vacuum collapse. This is a physics thing. Basically, a remote possibility exists in the standard model of particle physics that the existence of matter in our universe could be in a kind of local energy minimum, but it would be possible for it to locally fall into a true minimum, creating a kind of bubble that expands at the speed of light and just deletes everything. We're pretty sure that isn't true though. If it did happen we literally would not be able to do anything... at least in a universe without FTL.

(Curiously, Su mentions special relativity at one point. With all the funky cosmology stuff I kinda wondered if special relativity is still real, but apparently it is! Electromagnetism has been mentioned as still being a thing a couple of times now, so rather than being totally absent it seems like the physics is a bit different, with an electric shock being sufficient to cause radiation poisoning.)

The fair play interlude

In between chapters 22 and 24 we get a curious little interlude called Intermission ∞ 1. The introduction presents it as something that is happening on one of the 'higher planes', translated into terms we can understand, which is grounds for it to get metafictional.

Two entities, calling themselves the Playwright and the Director, discuss the direction of the story so far before laying out the version of fair-play mystery rules this story will be operating under. They are as follows:

THE PERSPECTIVE OF THE PROTAGONIST IS ALWAYS TRUTHFUL

ALL EVENTS FOLLOW THE RULES OF CONVENTIONAL REALITY, UNLESS INDICATED OTHERWISE

ALL SYSTEMS INTRODUCED CANNOT BREAK THEIR OWN RULES AS DEFINED WITHIN THE NARRATIVE, UNLESS INDICATED OTHERWISE

I made them red because it feels like they would be red in Umineko.

Further clarifications and caveats allow that Su can withold information (for dramatic tension or whatever I guess) but she'll always tell us when she does, and an example of 'system introduced' is the magic duel sequence: the characters know accurately how magic duels work.

The two entities are performing this story for some sort of audience, and during their double-act credit themselves with control over the direction of the scenario, sometimes disagreeing. (Another one, the chorus, enters at the end.) Probably best not to think too hard about what that implies for our characters on the 'main' level of the story being 'real', it's probably just a cute bit to take the audience aside without completely breaking the fourth wall. Then again... who knows!

What this means is that my concerns about professed liar Su being an unreliable narrator are unfounded. It's still a limited POV, so Su could fail to notice things or be deceived, but she's not trying to pull one over on us.

I bring this up because...

There's been a mordah!

So, in the last chapter I read - strictly the beginning of a new arc - we find someone dead!

Well, this was kinda foreshadowed earlier. The chef disappeared, the assistant chef was knocked out by magic, and some kinda crazy time magic happened in the pantry - with the heavy implication that someone was trapped in some kinda hyperbolic time pantry for many years. At least they'd have plenty to eat..? The characters don't pick up on the implication of the tally marks and write it off as a stasis field malfunction.

So, it was natural to suspect the cook is dead. Indeed they are: Su finds a mysterious note in the book given to her by an academic at the school as a parting gift, warning her not to trust the inner council - inexplicably written two years prior and warning her to check the archive in a certain position. Investigating this, she and Kam find a secret armoury room. In there is a tunnel, and at the bottom, the cook appears to have committed suicide, leaving a suicide note vaguely implying the Order is up to some seriously sussy shit.

Of course, Kam and Su immediately suspect foul play. But they also both have ulterior motives for coming to this conference, so they agree to keep it hush-hush. This is definitely a great idea that won't get everyone killed by Beatrice... I mean uh. Whoever the murderer is.

The obvious question is, who dunnit? And why? Unfortunately, we don't really have alibis for most of the characters. Many of the inner circle haven't even shown up on screen yet. So there's a lot of people who it might have been.

More suspects! More suspects!

I haven't even mentioned several of the characters. We also have Sacnicte, steward of the house - she's an arcanist, and Su is kinda insanely horny for her aesthetically appreciative, in a way that the other characters notice and are literally like 'I don't see it'... which makes me wonder if we have a situation where someone has fucked with her perceptions. She's very down to earth and casual.

Her name is probably a reference to the Maya princess Sac Nicté, meaning 'white flower', who according to legend was involved in the migration of the Itza people from the Chichen Itza. Mind you the article I'm getting this from is kinda horrendous; the sole source is in Spanish and appears to be some random website from 2004.

Among the older generation, we have Theo's dad, Linos. He is a generally affable chap, kinda socially awkward (he's responsible for prolonging the political discussion by a botched apology) but otherwise not particularly standing out among the Order members.

Linos or Linus is another Greek name with a few referents.

The Order member who really does stand out is Anna, or in full, Amtu-hedu-anna. She's the one who's properly old, having dodged many of the 'kills people around 500' bullets of this setting, and not especially inclined to make nice. Very 'straight to the point' kinda lady. We meet her fairly briefly - Ran seems to have landed in her good books.

This one really took some digging! It seems to be based on Enheduanna, who was a Sumerian high priestess of Nanna and the oldest named author in history, credited for tablets like The Exaltation of Inanna, although it seems there's some debate over whether she definitely wrote them. Her rank in Sumerian was Entu, and I could fully believe 'amtu hedu anna' is a different transliteration of 'Entu Hedu Anna'.

As mentioned above, we're introduced to two logic engines, Sekhmet and Eshmun, built respectively by Neferuaten and (the as yet unseen) Hamilcar. Sekhmet has more biological components and wants to be a human. She wants to be human, and she's also expressed a distinct pronoun preference and gender id, which I suppose makes her trans. Eshmun is a more traditional logic engine with a lot of cogs; Sekhmet calls him 'big brother', so I guess he gets he pronouns from that.

Sekhmet is of course named for the Egyptian lion-headed warrior/medicine goddess. Eshmun is a Phoenician god of healing. Hamilcar was a name used by a number of Carthaginians, mostly generals.

Ezekiel is another one of the student gang. We haven't seen much of him yet, so I don't have a lot to say about him. Abrahamic prophet.

Balthazar is a student from another school - another thanatomancer in fact. He's something like the protégé of Zeno, and his presence is Zeno's condition for having this whole affair go ahead. He's got the same eyes as Ophelia, and Zeno failing to do his paperwork and allowing to happen is a big deal. But Zeno's kind of a bigshot so it might not come to anything. Anyway, Su is kind of suspicious towards Balthazar, but he takes it all in good humour.

Balthazar was one of the three magi in Christian mythology. There were a few Zenos, but the best known is surely Zeno of Elea, who came up with his famous "we need to invent calculus to solve this" paradoxes around infinite sums.

Yantho is a member of the Order staff, who was cooking when whoever did shenanigans in the kitchen... did shenanigans in the kitchen. His roast was ruined, but sadly he was too unconscious to order fast food and pass it off as his cooking. He can't speak and communicates by writing on his tablet.

The name crops up as an obscure Maya deity, part of a trio of brothers with Usukun and Uyitzin, but I can't find any source that seems particularly definitive.

Samium is an old egomancer, whose presence is a secret that only Su and Ran are in on. Su wants to speak to him, for reasons that are probably to do with finding out if he can restore 'original!Su' into her body, or maybe resurrecting her grandfather, or something?

...is that everyone? I think that's everyone. At some point I probably need to make an Umineko-style character screen lol.

can we solve anything yet?

Since this chapter is the beginning of the arc, I suspect there's more info to divulge before we can think about trying to solve this one. And, given the Umineko inspo, the problem to solve probably isn't simply 'whodunnit' but something more fundamental to the nature of this world.

Still, it seems all but spelled out explicitly that current!Su failed to properly assimilate into her body after she became an arcanist. Her grandfather's final 'kindness' is less clear. Her intentions with Samium... I've mentioned the obvious theories about already. She's mega guilty about overwriting this poor girl and has decided the only course of action is to try and restore the mind that inhabited her body originally. But I don't think we have the whole picture just yet, because I still can't figure out what her granddad did.

Given her discussion of 'dragon' vs 'phoenix' resurrection, and of how her meeting with Samium might change the order, I also theorised - before I really twigged the arcanist thing - that she was here to resurrect her grandfather in her own body. Body-hopping is like, the classic immortality strat after all. But... I'm less convinced of that one now? It doesn't seem like Su particularly liked the old man, she definitely doesn't want to follow in his footsteps, and 'saw him die unexpectedly during the revolution' does not seem like it would inspire the same sort of guilt.

Still, he surely did something to her, she's definitely cryptically alluded to that enough times.

Besides that?

Obviously really digging this story! Honestly, this one rules. It helps that the author is clearly into a lot of the same shit I am. All the long discussions and beat by beat narration could potentially feel a little dry, but honestly, I'm pretty hooked, it's definitely pulling me forwards. It's a fascinating, conflict-rich setting, that raises all sorts of interesting concepts. It's confident in knowing what it wants to be. Umineko is a hell of a tough act to follow, but this one has a distinct identity of its own. Can't wait to see what happens now the mystery seems to be about to kick off for real.

With that in mind, I'm sure it won't be long until the next one of these. I may have to dial back the detail a bit, this is kinda having a bad effect on my work right now. There's just so many fascinating corners to follow up ^^'

Anyway, I realise these posts are kinda massive for tumblr, so I'm gonna start copying them over to canmom.art soon. <See you next time>.