#thief thoughts 2020

[notquitecanon]

Not Quite Canon's Masterlist:

Just another multifandom imagines blog. All works are dated- so you can date my progress and track as my ADHD brain jumps from one hyper-fixation to the next

** Indicated NSFW. 18+ MDNI

Do Not Repost! Please and Thanks <3

Requests/asks are always open, the rat in my brain likes receiving little messages and notes of inspiration :)))

Works & Playlists below the cut!

Criminal Minds x Marvel crossover 2019, unfinished (masterlist)

Marvel: 

Spangled Stars || Steve Rogers x Reader (2019)  Whiplash || Peter Maximoff x Reader (2019)  Like a Good Neighbor || Bucky Barnes x Reader (2019)  Chance Encounter || Spiderman x Reader (2020)  Look at You || Moon Knight system x reader (2023) **  Call Me… || Matt Murdock x Reader (2024) 

See Also: Miguel O' Hara Playlist on Spotify 🎧 Criminal Minds / Marvel Crossover listed above ^^

Criminal Minds:

Christmas Vacation || Spencer Reid x Reader (2019)  Fun Facts || Spencer Reid x Reader (2020) Thief! || Spencer Reid x Reader (2020)  Missing || Spencer Reid x Reader (2020) 

See Also: Criminal Minds / Marvel Crossover listed above ^^

John Wick:

First Impressions || John Wick x Reader (2020)  With & Without || John Wick x Reader (2021) 

DC Comics:  

Zero Stars || Adrian Chase x Reader (2022)  Beverage Napkin || Adrian Chase x Reader (2022)  Stop Worrying || Adrian Chase x Reader (2022)  Ghosting || John Constantine x Reader (2023)

See Also: Adrian Chase Spotify Playlist 🎧

Ghostbusters: 

Here, Let Me || Dr. Egon Spenger x Reader (2021)  Mandatory Attendance || Dr. Egon Spengler x Reader (2021)  Happy Golden Days || Dr. Ray Stantz x Reader  Snow || Dr. Egon Spengler x Reader (2022)  For Emergencies Only || Dr. Egon Spengler (2022)   >Part 2   (Metaphorical Rescue Eggroll) >Part 3  (The Love Hypothetical) Dust and Motor Oil || Dr. Ray Stantz x Reader (2022)  Stardust & Fungi || Dr. Egon Spengler x Reader (2022)  Tell ‘em bout the Twinkie || Dr. Egon Spengler x extroverted!Reader (2023)  Hypno!kink headcanon (2022) (plotbunny free to good home) ** See Also: Ray Stantz Spotify Playlist 🎧 I Wanna Be Ghostbuster Playlist 🎧

That 70s Show:

First Dates || Steven Hyde x Reader (2020)  Snowed In || Steven Hyde x Reader (2020)  Comfort || Steven Hyde x Reader (2020)  Slippery & Cold || Steven Hyde x Reader (2020) ** 4 Things Steven Hyde Agreed To & 1 He Didn’t || Steven Hyde x Reader (2020)

Star Wars: 

From the Start || Kylo Ren/Ben Solo x Reader (2019)  Strings || Obi-Wan Kenobi x Politician!Reader (2020)  Disappointment || Kylo Ren x Reader (2020) ** Sacrifice and Devotion || Din Djarin x Reader ( 2023)  See Also: Din Djarin Playlist on Spotify 🎧

Twilight: 

Cowardice || Jasper Hale x Reader (2020)  Bad Moods || Jasper Hale x Reader (2020)  Attitude Adjustment || Jasper Hale x Reader (2020)  The Moment Before Eternity || Carlisle Cullen x Reader (2020)  Firsts || Carlisle Cullen x Reader (2020)  Spiked Punch || Jasper Hale x Reader (2021)  GTA || Jasper Hale x Reader (2021)

Baldur’s Gate 3: 

Insufferably Admirable || Astarion x Reader (2023)   > Part 2 (Foolishly Admirable - 2024)   See Also: Astarion || The Pale Elf playlist on spotify 🎧

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare: 

Keep Talking || Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (2024) ** Warmth || Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (2024)  Dense || Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (2024)  A thought about Poly!141 x Reader (2024) ** >>Search History || Poly!141 x Reader (2024) ** >> Virtual Breadcrumbs || Poly!141 x Reader (2024) (Part 1.5) ** ~~~~Any additional asks or headcanons are posted under the #searchhistory on my blog!

Familiar and Whiskey || Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (2024)**

See Also: POV: ur in love with Johnny "Soap" McTavish playlist 🎧

POV: ur in love with Simon “Ghost” Riley 🎧

[violaextract]

NOT ONLY CLASS SWAPPED SCYTHEBELTS, BUT ALL CLASS SWAPPED FATED??

you try to give a flower to your crush and your powers go haywire smh

hi so if you saw the og class swaps i did for the fated in like,, 2020 maybe,, uhhhhhhh no you didnt ( you can see the og ones behind them in the line up )

this time i chose sub classes for them!! and they are very silly, BELOW THE CUT IS MY THOUGHTS AND WHY I CHOSE THE SUBCLASSES I DID, IF YOU WANNA HEAR MY RANTING VVVV

sylnan is circle of shepherd, i felt that it suited him, especially with the idea that he could steal from people with the help of animals, also because he lived with the rats, so,, ykyk,, also the vines can be used to climb stuff because thats cool, i love the guardian spell too, basically you get downed and you can summon a spirit that will attack anything that gets near you, ( even if the spell doesnt attack teammates or non threats its a nice idea for braad to be the only one who can get near him when this happens, and possibly as the party grows together the others can also approach him ) also the vest design is meant to mimic a ribcage, i think i had an idea of why i did this but forgot,, it just looks cool. maybe something to do with his death or his emotions, whos to say

braad, arcane trickster, SURPRISING NO ONE, hes silly thief guy who maybe became a rouge to help their situation, but he was kinda just hiding it from his brother, until the pact thing happened and then after the pact is severed, hes a trickster instead of a bard. he needs to be able to do his silly illusions, also i like to think he just happens to doge stuff, like by sheer coincidence

velrisa, college of lore, i thought because she wouldnt be a cleric for weejas, she could be a sort of, storyteller if you will, spreading the word and fighting for her god with music, she still does stuff with undead and whatnot being raised by clerics, but she simply found another way to show that,( maybe she struggled with normal cleric magic also maybe she relates to mountain )

taxi, battle master fighter, it was this or champion, but i feel like it fit what with what we know about his parents, in this he was trained and whatnot, it was probs a gillion tidestrider thing where it was fucked and he throughout the fated travels learns to fight for himself and protect the people he cares about instead of listening to what people told him he should be fighting for. also maybe he could become some sort of champion because its taxi, i love him.

mountain, war domain, like with taxi i was inbetween war domain and death domain, i felt death domain because the death of his wife maybe threw him into that, but i felt that what with mountain being in a fighting ring and meeting his wife there, that war fit better, he is a crazy good fighter and healing also possibly learnt from Hilda and heightened after her death. hes still mountain though so alcholic cleric punch healing and shenanigans, dont think that just because hes a healer now hes devoid of everything that makes mountain, mountain. plus with taxi, maybe hes very involved with helping taxi find his fight, and with vel, she knows about cleric stuff despite not being one so ykyk

okay rant over, the read more thing didnt work so IM SORRY, i put too much thought into this BYEEE

[the-nameless-wacky-inventor]

anyway this is about the queens thief series- even though I hadn’t thought of them since well before making the royalty su and as incredibly angry as those books made me, I realized recently that I really can’t deny just how much of Eugenides there is in royalty Mads.

it’s honestly kinda crazy just how influenced you can be by things in a creative process without even knowing it at all

[majorhortonisonleaveinlondon]

An updated (December 20, 2024 9:02pm pst) list of WW2 movies and TV shows in chronological order

thought out WW2 -(Imitation Game 2014) -(The Book Thief 2013) -(The Zookeeper’s Wife 2017) -(The Pianist 2002)

1937

October 26, 1937 Defence of Sihang Warehouse (The Eight Hundred 2020)

December 13, 1937 Nanjing Massacre - (John Rabe 2009) - (The Flowers of War 2011)

1938

Fall of 1938 (Munich – The Edge of War 2022)

1939

Summer 1939 (Six Minutes to Midnight 2020)

September 3, 1939 King George VI first wartime speech (King’s Speech 2010)

September 17, 1939, Soviet Union Invitation of Poland (The Way Back 2010)

November 30, 1939 Soviet Union invades Finland (The Winter War 1989)

1940

April 9, 1940 Operation Weserübung -(April 9th [movie] 2015) -(King’s Choice 2016) -(Narvik 2022) -(War Sailors 2023)

April 27, 1940 (Into the White 2011)

June 4, 1940 -Churchill gives “We Shall Fight on the Beaches” speech (Darkest Hour 2017) -Dunkirk Evaluation (Dunkirk 2017)

July 10-October 31, 1940 Battle of Britain (Battle of Britain 1969)

1941

May 1941 (Call to Spy 2019)

June 22, 1941 Operation Barbarossa -(Fortress of War [The Brest Fortres 2010) -(Defiance 2008)

September 8, 1941, Siege of Leningrad begins. -(Battle of Leningrad [Saving Leningrad] 2019) -(Leningrad 2009)

October 1941 Battle of Moscow (The Last Frontier [The Final Stand] 2020)

October 1941 Battle of Sevastopol (Battle for Sevastopol 2015)

December 7, 1941, the Empire of Japan attacks Pearl Harbor (Tora! Tora! Tora! 1970)

December 8, 1941 Japan invades Shanghai International Settlement (Empire of the Sun 1987)

1942

January 20, 1942, Wannsee Conference (Conspiracy 2001)

February 1942 Battle of the Atlantic (Greyhound 2020)

February 1942 (The Railway Man 2013)

February 19, 1942, Bombing of Darwin (Australia 2008)

Spring 1942 (U-571 2000)

April 18, 1942 The Doolittle Raid (In Harm’s Way 2018)

June 4, 1942 Battle of Midway (Midway 2019)

1942 Summer Occupation of Jersey Island (Another Mother’s Son 2017 Prime)

July, 10 1942 Easy Company Trains in Camp Tocca (Band of Brothers 01x10 Currahee 2001)

July 21, 1942, Kokoda Track Campaign (Kokoda: 39th Battalion 2006)

August 7, 1942, 1st Marine Division land on Guadalcanal (The Pacific Ep. 1 Guadalcanal/Leckie 2010)

August 19, 1942, Dieppe Raid (Dieppe 1993)

August 23, 1942 Battle of Stalingrad begins (Stalingrad 1993)

September 1942 Formation of Troop 30 (Age of Heroes 2011)

September 18, 1942, 7th Marines Land on Guadalcanal (The Pacific Ep. 2 Basilone 2010)

Autumn of 1942 Battle of the Atlantic (Das Boot 1981)

October 18, 1942, Operation Grouse (Heavy Water War Ep. 2 2015)

November 8, 1942, Operation Torch (The Big Red One 1980)

November 10-17 1942 Vasily Zaytsev kills 225 German Soldiers during the Battle of Stalingrad (Enemy at the Gates 2001)

December 1942 The 1st Marine Division on Guadalcanal is relieved (The Pacific Ep. 3 Melbourne 2010)

December 15, 1942, Battle of Mount Austen (Thin Red Line 1998)

1943

March 13-14 1943, liquidation of the Kraków Ghetto -(Schindler’s List 1993)

April 17, 1943 Operation Mincemeat (Operation Mincemeat 2021)

April 19, 1943, beginning of the Warsaw Uprising (Uprising 2001)

May 4, 1943, Final Mission of The Memphis Bell (Memphis Bell 1990)

May 15, 1943, Salamo Arouch and his family arrive in Auschwitz Concentration Camp (Triumph of the Spirit 1989)

May 27, 1943 Louis Zamperini plane crashes on a search and rescue mission (Unbroken 2014)

May 30, 1943 first All-American Girls Professional Baseball League game played (A League of Their Own 1992)

June 25, 1943, 100th Bomb Group flew its first 8th Air Force combat mission (Master of the Air: Part One 2024)

July 1943 -(The Tuskegee Airmen 1995) -(The Liberator Ep. 1 2020) -(Heavy Water War Ep. 5 2015)

July 16, 1943, The 100th Bomb Group bombed U-Boats in Tronbhdim (Masters of the Air: Part Two 2024)

August 17, 1943 the 4th Bomb Wing of the 100th Bomb Group bombed Regenberg (Masters of the Air: Part Three 2024)

September 16, 1943, William Quinn and Charles Bailey leave Belgium (Masters of the Air: Part Four 2024)

September 18, 1943 John ‘Bucky’ Egan returns from leave to join the mission to bomb Munster (Master of the Air: Part Five 2024

October 14, 1943, John ‘Bucky’ Egan interrogated at Dulag Lut, Frankfurt Germany (Masters of the Air: Part Six 2024)

December 26, 1943, 1st Marine Division lands on Cape Gloucester (The Pacific Ep. 4 Gloucester/Pavuvu/Banika 2010)

1944

January 22, 1944, Battle of Anzio -(The Liberator Ep. 2 2020) -(Red Tails 2012) -(Anzio 1968)

February 20, 1944, Hydro Ferry bombing (Heavy Water War Ep. 6 2015)

March 7, 1944, Stalag Luft III Sagan, Germany, Germans find the concealed radio Bucky was using to learn news of the War (Master of the Air: Part Seven 2024)

March 24/25, 1944 Allied Mass Escape of Stalag Luft III (The Great Escape 1963)

June 1944 (Cross of Iron 1977)

June 6, 1944, 00:48 & 01:40 First airborne troops begin to land on Normandy (Band of Brothers 02x10 Day of Days 2001)

June 6, 1944, 06:30 D-Day landings -(Storming Juno 2010)

-(Saving Private Ryan 1998)

June 10, 1944, Easy Company Takes Carentan (Band of Brothers 03x10 Carentan 2001)

June 15-July 9, 1944 Battle of Saipan

-(Windtalkers 2002)

-(Oba: The Last Samurai 2011)

July, 1944 The Monuments Men land in Normandy (The Monuments Men 2014)

July 20, 1944 Operation Valkyrie (Valkyrie 2008)

August 12, 1944, The 332nd Fighter Group attack Radar stations in Southern France (Masters of the Air: Part Eight 2024)

September 15, 1944, U.S. Marines landed on Peleliu at 08:32 (the Pacific Ep. 5 2010)

September 16, 1944, U.S Marines take Peleliu Airfield (the Pacific Ep. 5 2010)

September 17, 1944, Operation Market Garden

-(Band of Brothers 04x10 Replacements 2001)

-(A Bridge Too Far 1977)

October 2, 1944 Battle of Scheldt (Forgotten Battle 2021)

October 12, 1944, Battle of Peleliu, Assault on Bloody Nose Ridge (the Pacific Ep. 7 Peleliu Hills 2010)

October 13, 1944, Rovaniemi public buildings were destroyed (Sisu 2022)

October 14, 1944, Erwin Rommel is arrested (Rommel 2012 Prime)

October 22/23, 1944, 2100 – 0200 Operation Pegasus (Band of Brothers 05x10 Crossroads 2001)

November 1944 middle of the Battle of Hürtgen Forest (When Trumpets Fade 1998)

December 16, 1944, Battle of the Bulge (Band of Brothers 06x10 Bastogne 2001)

December 1944 (Hart’s War 2002)

1945

January 2, 1945 (The Liberator Ep 3 2020)

January 10, 1945 (Attack Force Z)

January 13, 1945, Battle of Foy (Band of Brothers 07x10 The Breaking Point 2001)

January 30, 1945 The Raid at Cabanatuan (The Great Raid 2002)

February 14, 1945, David Webb rejoins the 506th in Haguenau (Band of Brothers 08x10 The Last Patrol 2001)

February 19, 1945, Battle of Iwo Jima starts. - (Letters from Iwo Jima 2006) - (The Pacific Ep. 8 Iwo Jima 2010) - (Flags of our Fathers 2006)

February 15, 1945, 6888 Battalion was inspected and marched in review before Major General John C. H. Lee (Six Triple Eight 2024)

March 21, 1945, Operation Carthage (The Bombardment 2021)

April, 1945 (Fury 2014)

April 5, 1945, 506th Finds abandoned Concentration Camp (Band of Brothers 09x10 Why We Fight 2001)

April 17, 1945 Lee Miller arrives at Concentration Camp Buchenwald (Lee 2023)

April 26, 1945, near the end of the war in Europe (A Woman in Berlin 2008)

April 29, 1945, 45th Infantry Division liberated Dachau Concentration camp (The Liberator Ep. 4 2020)

May 2, 1945, Fall of Berlin -(Downfall 2004) -(Jojo Rabbit 2019)

May 1945 Battle of Okinawa -(Hacksaw Ridge 2016) -(The Pacific Ep. 9 Okinawa 2010)

May 7, 1945, Germany Surrenders V-E Day - (Master of the Air: Part Nine 2024) - (Band of Brothers 10x10 Points 2001)

July 30, 1945, USS Indianapolis sank. (USS Indianapolis 2016)

August 15, 1945, The Empire of Japan surrenders end of the War. -(Oppenheimer 2023) -(The Pacific Part Ten: Home 2010)

September 11, 1945 US Military search and Arrest Japanese Leaders for war crimes (Emperor 2012)

1946 April 29, 1946 Tokyo War Crimes Tribunal (Tokyo Trial 2016)

[19burstraat]

anyone want to hear my six of crows x jane austen's emma au. yes of course you do don't be silly. the only person allowed to be silly is me as I descend into madness in the course of trying to cast this. (if you think 'I've heard this before' yes I've posted abt it before tho I think it was on my main)

kaz is emma, a bored, overintelligent rich bitch stuck in a country house with a bunch of shit idiot neighbours and almost no one to entertain or match him. fucking useless dad per haskell / mr woodhouse is a weaksauce hypochrondriac, and jordie / isabella has gone and got married and ditched kaz, the bastard. the only consolation is their neighbour inej / mr knightley, who is rich, sensible, popular, and elegible as hell... glory be, an intellectual equal for kaz!

in order to be less bored, kaz takes on a protege, mysterious randomer and natural son wylan / harriet smith, who kaz decides to mould in his own image and make a good match for. wylan is in love with gentleman farmer jesper / robert martin, but kaz is a snob and tries to push him towards local vicar kuwei / mr elton (I KNOW. I'M SORRY KUWEI), but that all goes tits up bc turns out kaz is a fucking terrible matchmaker, who'd've known.

meanwhile, unassuming and a little cold, but locally well-liked matthias / jane fairfax has arrived back in the village, and kaz busily commences hating on him because he's another accomplished young man and he makes him feel inadequate. hot on his heels comes the mysterious nina / frank churchill (NINA I'M SO SORRY I FUCKING HATE FRANK BUT THIS IS WHAT WORKS FOR THE COUPLES YOU CAN BE A NICE FRANK CHURCHILL ): ), who kaz is kind of fascinated by and enjoys sparring with, and hence kind of misses the really obvious signs that nina and matthias are secretly engaged, even though inej, ever thief of secrets, has lowkey noticed something's up, like matthias getting mysterious gifts from someone. kaz ends up being convinced that possibly it's inej that's pursuing matthias, which nina encourages because it helps her cover, and kaz kinda panics.

everyone has petty village drama which culiminates when kaz sneers at pekka rollins / miss bates (LISTEN. LI actually you don't need to listen bc I laughed out loud when I thought of this comparison but hear me out, if you just think of it as the equivalent of the church of barter scene except instead of 'I buried him' it's 'when have you ever stopped at three?' it kind of works. sorry to miss bates tho who is still kinda my fave austen character) at box hill, which culminates in inej going BOY WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM and kaz is like wow she kind of has a point should I be a better person :/

uhh what else even happens. there's a ball after nina massively encourages one, inej saves wylan from being partnerless and later dances with kaz (think of the gloveless dance scene from the 2020 adaptation? yeah? yeahh??). the regency gender conventions here are getting so messed up lmao, never mind. in emma harriet fancies herself in love with mr knightley and emma is forced to realise that she likes him, so let's say that wylan pretends to be after inej, in order to strong arm kaz into realising that he's wanted to marry inej this entire time. wylan's dad turns out to be minted (I'm stretching the book here to make it work w SOC but never mind) but that's after kaz has admitted he fucked up and sent wylan off to marry gentleman farmer jesper, yaaay. nina's relatives who are stopping her from marrying matthias die and hence there's a massive revelation with 'oh they were engaged this whole time lol', kaz is PISSED bc he didn't clock it. uh. everyone gets married and now kaz can escape the shit village and actually go places. the end.

[book--brackets]

The Cemeteries of Amalo by Katherine Addison (2021-present)

When the young half-goblin emperor Maia sought to learn who had set the bombs that killed his father and half-brothers, he turned to an obscure resident of his father’s Court, a Prelate of Ulis and a Witness for the Dead. Thara Celehar found the truth, though it did him no good to discover it. He lost his place as a retainer of his cousin the former Empress, and made far too many enemies among the many factions vying for power in the new Court. The favor of the Emperor is a dangerous coin. 

Now Celehar lives in the city of Amalo, far from the Court though not exactly in exile. He has not escaped from politics, but his position gives him the ability to serve the common people of the city, which is his preference. He lives modestly, but his decency and fundamental honestly will not permit him to live quietly. As a Witness for the Dead, he can, sometimes, speak to the recently dead: see the last thing they saw, know the last thought they had, experience the last thing they felt. It is his duty use that ability to resolve disputes, to ascertain the intent of the dead, to find the killers of the murdered. 

Now Celehar’s skills lead him out of the quiet and into a morass of treachery, murder, and injustice. No matter his own background with the imperial house, Celehar will stand with the commoners, and possibly find a light in the darkness. 

The Children of Green Knowe by Lucy M. Boston (1954-1976)

Tolly's great-grandmother wasn't a witch but both she and her old house, Green Knowe, were full of a very special kind of magic. And Green Knowe turned out not to be the lonely place Tolly had imagined it to be. There were other children living in the house - children who had been happy there centuries before.

The Smoke Thieves by Sally Green (2018-2020)

In a land tinged with magic and a bustling trade in an illicit supernatural substance, destiny will intertwine the fates of five players: 

A visionary princess determined to forge her own path. 

An idealistic solider whose heart is at odds with his duty. 

A streetwise hunter tracking the most dangerous prey. 

A charming thief with a powerful hidden identity. 

A loyal servant on a quest to avenge his kingdom. 

 Their lives intersect with a stolen bottle of demon smoke. As war approaches, they must navigate a tangled web of political intrigue, shifting alliances, and forbidden love in order to uncover the dangerous truth about the strangely powerful smoke that interwines their fates.

Mongrels by Stephen Graham Jones (2016)

He was born an outsider, like the rest of his family. Poor yet resilient, he lives in the shadows with his aunt Libby and uncle Darren, folk who stubbornly make their way in a society that does not understand or want them. They are mongrels, mixed blood, neither this nor that. The boy at the center of Mongrels must decide if he belongs on the road with his aunt and uncle, or if he fits with the people on the other side of the tracks.

For ten years, he and his family have lived a life of late-night exits and narrow escapes—always on the move across the South to stay one step ahead of the law. But the time is drawing near when Darren and Libby will finally know if their nephew is like them or not. And the close calls they’ve been running from for so long are catching up fast now. Everything is about to change.

The Door Within by Wayne Thomas Batson (2005-2006)

Aidan Thomas is miserable. And it's much more than the strange nightmares he's been having. Just when life seemed to be coming together for Aidan, his parents suddenly move the family across the country to take care of his wheelchair-bound grandfather. When strange events begin to occur, Aidan is drawn into his grandfather's basement where he discovers three ancient scrolls and an invitation to another world.

No longer confined to the realm of his own imagination, Aidan embarks on an adventure where he joins them in the struggle between good and evil. With the fate of two worlds hanging in the balance, Aidan faces Paragory, the eternal enemy. Will Aidan be willing to risk everything and trust the unseen hand of the one true King? The answer comes from The Door Within.

A Face Like Glass by Frances Hardinge (2012)

In the underground city of Caverna the world's most skilled craftsmen toil in the darkness to create delicacies beyond compare. They create wines that can remove memories, cheeses that can make you hallucinate and perfumes that convince you to trust the wearer even as they slit your throat. The people of Caverna are more ordinary, but for one thing: their faces are as blank as untouched snow. Expressions must be learned. Only the famous Facesmiths can teach a person to show (or fake) joy, despair or fear — at a price.

Into this dark and distrustful world comes Neverfell, a little girl with no memory of her past and a face so terrifying to those around her that she must wear a mask at all times. For Neverfell's emotions are as obvious on her face as those of the most skilled Facesmiths, though entirely genuine. And that makes her very dangerous indeed...

Squire by Nadia Shammas (2022)

Born a second-class citizen, Aiza has always dreamt of becoming a Knight. It’s the highest military honor in the once-great Bayt-Sajji Empire, and as a member of the Ornu people, her only path to full citizenship.

Now, ravaged by famine, Bayt-Sajji finds itself on the brink of war once again. This means Aiza can finally enlist to the competitive Squire training program.

The camp is nothing like she envisioned. Hiding her Ornu status in order to blend in, Aiza must navigate friendships, rivalries, and rigorous training under the merciless General Hende. As the pressure mounts, Aiza realizes that the “greater good” Bayt-Sajji’s military promises might not include her, and that the recruits might be in more danger than she ever imagined.

Dragon's Bait by Vivian Vande Velde (1992)

Fifteen-year-old Alys is not a witch. But that doesn't matter--the villagers think she is and have staked her out on a hillside as a sacrifice to the local dragon. It's late, it's cold, and it's raining, and Alys can think of only one thing--revenge. But first she's got to escape, and even if she does, how can one girl possibly take on an entire town alone? Then the dragon arrives--a dragon that could quite possibly be the perfect ally. . . .

Tales of Alderly by Alan Garner (1960-2012)

About 150 years ago, my great-great-grandfather, Robert Garner, carved the face of an old man with long hair and beard in the rock of a cliff on a hill where my family has lived for at least 400 years, and still does. He carved the face above a well that is much older. How much older, no one knows, but it's centuries older, or even more. And why did he carve it? He carved it to mark that here is the Wizard's Well.

I am Joseph's grandson, and I grew up on that hill, Alderley Edge in Cheshire, aware of its magic and accepting it. I didn't know that it wasn't the same for everyone. I didn't know that not all children played, by day and by night, the year long, on a wooded hill where heroes slept in the ground. Yet there were strange things. Below another ancient well, the Holy Well, a rock lies in a bog. It fell from the cliff above in 1740 and made the Garners' cottage shake. It landed on an old woman and her cow that, for some reason, were standing in the bog, and, as a result, are still there. When I was seven, the bog was dangerous for somebody of my size and I once got stuck in it and thought I was going to drown, even though I sank only to my hips; but I managed to reach the rock and to climb up it to where a fallen tree was lodged, which spanned the bog, and by sliding along the trunk I was able to reach firm land. Nearby, under the leaf mould, is a layer of white clay that we used as soap to wash ourselves before we went home after playing. But there wasn't anything I could do about my clothes, and Grandad was not pleased.

The Edge is a land of two worlds: above and below. It took me my childhood to learn about above; when I was 19, I went to learn the wonders of below: a world of darkness and silence, so dark that you can see the lights of brain cells discharging; so silent that blood in the veins can be heard.

Stoneheart by Charlie Fletcher (2007-2009)

A city has many lives and layers. London has more than most. Not all the layers are underground, and not all the lives belong to the living. Twelve-year-old George Chapman is about to find this out the hard way. When, in a tiny act of rebellion, George breaks the head from a stone dragon outside the Natural History Museum, he awakes an ancient power. This power has been dormant for centuries but the results are instant and terrifying: A stone Pterodactyl unpeels from the wall and starts chasing George. He runs for his life but it seems that no one can see what he's running from. No one, except Edie, who is also trapped in this strange world. And this is just the beginning as the statues of London awake

[saikolikes]

Aki’s P5R  fanfic recs! (part 2)

Hi and welcome to another one of my recs posts! As you can see, this is part two: part one of this post can be found HERE and includes fics I bookmarked between April 2019 and December 2020. This second post will deal with everything I bookmarked during 2021 and 2022 (... so yes, part 3 is bound to happen some times in the future)

Here a brief disclaimer:

Everything in here is spoiler for either P5 vanilla, Royal, or Strikers;

I won’t report the tags, as it would take too long, so if you’re interested in a fic, please open the link;

Fic recs obviously reflect my tastes and preferences. For example, I love suffering and I don’t like fluff or domestic works, so browse this list knowing that;

The stark majority of the works here is shuakeshu

If you want more recs you can find them in my bookmarks, most of them are public!

MY ONGOING RECS Again, I don't read a lot of ongoing works (although, admittedly more than in the past) and these are the ones I'm subscribed to that I'm adoring!

The Lovers, Reversed by salexectria, Terra5 (E) | Royalty a/b/o AU | akeshu | series in three parts, ongoing "A Thief is caught stealing from the Northern King, and is sentenced to death for his crimes. The Alpha Prince intervenes, but at what cost to them both?" What I love about this AU is the amount of politics and worldbuilding put into it, as well as the uniqueness of double povs who constantly switch from Akira to Goro creating one back and forth that acts literally like poking into their minds. Plus the slow burn and the pining are just on point.

never die when I'm dead by threerings (E) | Royal & post-Royal | akeshu | series in 2 parts, ongoing Two one shots featuring one of my absolute flavors of this ship: sad, intense and unhinged

IDC FOR UPDATES I resolved to defeat my abandoned-wip trauma one excellent fic at a time so here's a list of works that haven't been updated in a while or the author straight up confirmed they won't keep writing them, but they are so good you just have to read them and let them remodel you. Do it. Do it now.

the year of the knife by theexistentiallyqueer (M) | No powers AU | shuakeshu | 2 chapters "The plan for Akira's junior year of high school was to keep his head down and his nose clean, but he hadn't counted on his new high school having more trouble than it was worth--and he specifically didn't plan on Akechi Goro, the haughty, machiavellian vice president of Shujin Academy's student council, dragging him face-first into political scandal and a series of encounters that would change his life." Please let teq bring you through a journey of spot-on characterization and stunning prose that will rewire your brain chemistry completely. Their take on machiavellian Akechi is really good, and the snark Akira spits in this fic is really something I cherish.

kiss & cry by MajorGodComplex (T) | Figure skating AU | shuakeshu | 2 chapters "Goro’s first thought when he hits the ground is some combination of the words ‘shit fuck hell fucking bullshit bitch fuck motherfucking hell.’ His next thought is wondering whether Akira Kurusu, senior debut, constant thorn in Goro’s side, and the only person anyone this season seems to talk about, is also trying to land a quad axel at the moment." I don't know what to tell you, the prose of this one is so witty and funny you just have to read what's published of it as of now!

honeybrains by succubused (T) | Time loop | shuakeshu | 4 chapters "a chronicle of the twenty-fourth time akira kurusu lived through the month of january 2017" What can I say, I am really a sucker for time loops and this fic took me by the heart. Tagged as character study and with rights because the characterization here is very interesting!

in the snow globe by aminami (E) | Time travel | shuake | 1 chapter "It’s your heart,” Joker says like it’s the most obvious thing. “Your desires, your hopes, your fears. I’ll carry them with me always. My little snow globe." This fic will hurt you so badly but it will be so worth it, I swear. It's just so melancholic and tender and angsty and it carved a place in my heart.

my love has never lived indoors by rhodophytae (E) | a/b/o | shuake | 1 chapter "Ren Amamiya knows he's an alpha, and he's comfortable with that, but he's pretty sure that being an alpha is, well...different for him than it is for other people. He resigned himself a long time ago to the fact that he'd probably go his whole life without finding anyone else like him. And then he meets Goro Akechi." This fic has such an interesting take on omegaverse! Paired with a stellar characterization and delicious pining, it's no surprise it's a fic I will never forget.

GENERAL RECS The fics I’ve enjoyed the most and that I go back to reading sometimes.

how joker and crow survived the coronavirus pandemic of 2020 by shntlvs (T) | Royal | shuakeshu | series of 2 works "Escaping from Maruki's false reality gets interrupted by the Coronavirus pandemic." Could you have ever imagined reading a fic centered around the pandemic? Me neither, but this one and its sequel work so well and have very compelling bits of characterization for the boys. Unexpected premise, but I utterly loved it.

straw house, straw dog by caelam (T) | 3rd sem | gen | one shot "In the saccharine utopia of Maruki’s reality, Goro Akechi’s mother is still alive." I admittedly don't read too many fics with mamakechi so I won't claim to be an expert, but this one really left me impressed with how clear and tangible the tangle of feelings is.

Knight of Pentacles, King of Spades by Naometry (M) | Medieval AU | shuakeshu | 11 chapters "“Hifumi passed on your greetings,” Akira Kurusu says, fury simmering beneath his conversational tone. “And I’m polite enough to give you my own in person. So greetings, General Goro Akechi. I am the man who will kill you.”" I started reading this fic for the war captive trope but this story has so much more to it than just that. Nao's superb skill with writing violence and viciousness will have you thrust into a cruel world where two boys seem to be bound to kill each other... unless?

Ripples by Riona (T) | gen | canon compliant | one shot "Ten people know exactly who the news is talking about, and now they’re going to have to deal with that." A peek into the heads of 10 of Joker's confidants upon learning about his death. The fic I would never imagined myself reading, but I did because it was recced to me, and now I'm recc'ing it to you, too.

When Your Eyes Meet Mine by seths_dream (E) | no powers AU | shuake | one shot "The way the bellboy lingered on him made his heart jolt, made him think that maybe, maybe the bellboy was looking at Goro the same way Goro was looking at him." I've lost count of how many times I read this fic because the horny is just so juicy, it's unironically one of the fics I come back to when I need to remind myself how to write horny stuff. (the same author also wrote this delicious pegoryu that you have to read)

a study in what not to say by succubused (T) | 3rd sem | shuake | one shot "Akira has finally had enough of Akechi's bullshit; they resolve it the only ways they know how." If you like the boys being really nasty to each other, this fic is a must. It has excellent dialogue, dynamics, and a tad of homoerotic wound tending which can't hurt no one!

MY ALL-TIME FAVOURITES The fics that rewired my brain chemistry, took my heart out, slapped it, put it back, and left me a whole new person.

27 steps to seduce a crow by relationshipcrimes (G) | Royal | shuakeshu | one shot "A handy bullet-pointed list on how to flirt with, seduce, and keep your local Akechi Goro." Still to this day, I think of this fic in terms of Goro's characterization. If I have a thing for post-canon shuake chasing each other, it's probably due to this one.

The Brigverse by TzviaAriella (E but most works are M) | Pirates AU | akeshuake | series, ongoing I admittedly don't care that much about pirates but the og fic from this series (A Brig Too Far) was being passed on so much that I gave it a try and. Oh boy. Not only is the characterization impeccable, the story compelling, and the action thrilling, but at least one scene and/or line from each work in this series has altered my brain permanently. I am a new person after reading Brigverse.

wild and free by bangandawhimper (E) | a/b/o | shuakeshu | one shot "Akira Kurusu hasn’t always been an omega. But now everyone he meets in this city assumes he’s an omega. He’s treated like an omega. He feels like an omega. He knows he feels like an omega because he remembers what it was to be an alpha." This work might have my favourite take ever on shuakeshu omegaverse, it's so fitting for them, so thought out, and the characterization is so on point... my god. Read this fic now.

The Diamond Chest by kinneas (E) | post-Royal | shuakeshu | 3 chapters, complete "Who says you have to see Morgana speak in the Metaverse before you can hear him in the real world? Not the few hundred officers who arrested Ren in Sae’s Palace two years ago, that’s for sure." Honestly everything kinnes writes is gold but I'm shouting this fic out because I reread more than a few scenes from this fic more than once, and it's a 100k-words baby. I am a sucker for heist stories, I am a sucker for dealing with trauma in very tangible ways, and I'm a sucker for kinneas' characterization of the boys.

before midnight by specterthief (Not rated) | 3rd sem, canon compliant | gen | one shot "“I—” Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Sumire sets down her chopsticks and rubs her face with both hands. “Um—who told you I was going to training camp?” (On January 9th, Sumire goes home.)" This is the stellar Sumire characterization fic you're looking for. Read this. Read this right now.

I HOPE THIS DOESN'T AWAKEN SOMETHING IN ME (DELUSIONAL) I clicked on these fics solely due to my trust in the authors/the summary/one rec and now I find myself with a new kink. Thanks.

Containment Breach by salexectria (E) | Space pirates AU | akeshu | one shot Akira gets stranded on an abandoned spaceship seemingly infested by a terrifying creature. He finds the lonely survivor of the crew and they begrudgingly start to work together to contact help and survive. I am just going to say that I clicked for salex's name, I stayed for the stellar characterization, pining and top-tier bantering, and got overwhelmed by the tentacle sex. (/pos)

it takes two by lumensd (E) | 3rd sem | akeshu | two-shots By all means, this series has some things I usually am not interested in (phone sex, degradation) but Jay is so skilled and his akeshus are so fucked in the head that now I've signed up for the masochist Joker agenda. Hurray!

i dream of you draped in wires by rime (E) | 3rd sem | akeshu | one shot "Maruki's Shadows don't want to fight; they just want to collect data. Wait, are those cat ears?" You would think a work with the tag "catboy shibari gunplay fuckordie" can't be too serious. Wrong! Excellent character study attack 🔪🔪🔪 (from the same author there's also this P5 vanilla fic that is excellent)

Darken my doorway by EnlacingLines (E) | 3rd sem-post canon | akeshu | one shot ""I don’t need to test my theory. You should be thanking me, really. Opening this door for you.” “A door to what?” Akira says, exasperated by just how self congratulatory Goro still sounds.“ Submission.” Or: I am a firm switch shuake shipper, I don't vibe with too-extreme dynamics *proceeds to go ballistics over this fic regardless*, *awakens to the wonder of d/s a lil fucked up dynamics*

[rottenraccoons]

Not sure if this has already been asked yet, but how did the team come up with the four love interests in the first place? I feel like the hardest part of developing a character is figuring out how to start. All four feel so wonderfully complex, and are not very "trope-y," which is what I struggle with the most. Thanks!

Aw, thank you! I love answering stuff like this, so I decided to go through my process on Keir and rambled a bit. I'll put my answer under a readmore for brevity.

For us, we started building Obscura with the idea that we wanted to do something dark and mature, and began with developing a setting. Once we picked and started building out the marketplace under the mountain, we could start asking ourselves "why would anyone go to this place?" and work from there. (Vesper's fractum anima is one answer to this question that we really liked for the MC.)

"Thief" feels like a pretty natural role for a marketplace, and Tobi made it clear that she wanted to develop a very dark character, so I thought a more heroic Robin Hood-type character would be a nice contrast. My original concept of Keir was for a thief who burns for justice in a deeply unjust setting; think shounen-anime hero and you're in the right neighbourhood. Pretty tropey, and I say that with love! Proto-Keir would be a delight to write in a different story.

But the rest of the team didn't think that type of character really suited the dark tone we wanted to work with, and they were right. So we took the trope and twisted it. Yes, he's a good man who burns for justice in an unjust world; and he is extremely burned out. And that twist on the formula unlocked Keir for me and the rest of the team. Burned-out Keir could be exhausted and sarcastic and even cynical about the world, bitter about the state of the marketplace and very protective of Mouse Hole as a place he can improve.

This isn't to say that "burned-out activist Robin Hood" is an original characterisation that's never been done before; TV Tropes has a whole page on the Knight in Sour Armor, which deals with similar characters. But it was the foundation we could build on as a team to make a character that felt strong enough to be a romantic interest.

I've mentioned this before, but one of the inspirations I draw from when I write about the marketplace is the awful Web3/crypto environment, a topic I enjoy reading about mostly for the schadenfreude and ended up learning about as a consequence. For Keir, I use concepts like activist burnout and compassion fatigue, things I learned about much more intimately in 2020 (you can guess why). Taking these real life ideas and bringing them into my writing is my favourite way to add depth and texture to characters and settings. If you're looking to do the same, try looking outside fiction and see what things interest you, then bring them back to your fiction.

Not to say that tropey characters are a bad thing! I could write a whole other essay on the utility of character tropes, especially in the world of romance games. Tropes can be a great place to start constructing characters to ensure that they all have their own appeal, and they're just fun to experience as a reader, especially when it's one of your faves. There's no shame in being a bit tropey, if it suits the story you want to tell!

(And if you're looking for a bit of extra ~secret sauce~: give your characters two things they want super badly, but getting one thing will compromise the other. Safety and love are a classic pair; safety often means staying closed off from other people to avoid being hurt, love requires opening up to others. Then let them struggle with those competing wants.)

[softpine]

This might be juvenile, but do you have any tips on not comparing yourself to others? (Especially when it comes to note count or popularity.) I’ve been posting a story for over a year and it hardly gets any traction. It’s tough for me to see new creators post and get hundreds or even thousands of notes. I hate that I’m doing this but don’t know how to quit it!

this is not juvenile!! i struggle with this myself, especially knowing that i hit my peak years ago and i've been on the decline ever since – but only by numbers alone! i'm more proud of my story than i've ever been, i'm more attached to my characters, i'm putting more love and thought into everything, but i had to be realistic with myself and understand that i'll never pull even half the notes i did in 2020. gone are the days when i would wake up to 3 new anons about my story and dms from people every day (i can't believe i used to get overwhelmed by it...) and i would be lying if i said it didn't make me sad sometimes, because we're humans and our brains are practically wired to crave the hit of happy chemicals you get from seeing the stupid number go up 😭 it does feel demotivating. it makes me feel less urgency to post quicker if i convince myself that no one is waiting for me anyway, which means i post less, which means even less people stick around, which makes me post less, and on and on. it's a tough thing for me to come to terms with in all honesty.

but it helps to remember that i would be writing even if no one is reading. and i know that, because i have! i've written entire novel-length fics that i've never published, i've written countless short stories in the frozen pines universe that i'll never post, i've created alternate universes that will never be shown, etc. i do it because the idea is in my head and it needs to Get Out and i'm kinda just a conduit for that. that might not apply to you, and that's okay! everyone is different. the important thing is to really sit down and think about WHY you write and what you get out of it. which part of the process makes you happiest? what makes you feel a sense of fulfillment / satisfaction? play to your strengths. try not to spend your time doing things you think other people will enjoy and instead, spend more time on the things that make you happy. for me, i haaaaate editing and i always have, so lately i've been trying to speed through it a little bit quicker even if it means the final product won't be as appealing to others. (this is still a work in progress for me...) i have more fun when i experiment with different writing styles, which might not appeal to others because it takes longer and i don't really have a recognizable style, but i don't care anymore because i'm having fun! ask yourself what YOU want from your story, and then write for yourself and only yourself.

essentially what i'm saying is: there will ALWAYS be people more popular than you, and there's no guarantee that when you find the popularity you seek, you'll be able to keep it. so you need to find some sort of intrinsic motivation to continue or you'll just keep comparing yourself to others forever and you'll deny yourself the joy of creation! "comparison is the thief of joy" could not be more true!!

[greatwyrmgold]

In a recent bout of malaise, I binge-watched Geoff Thew's worst anime (plural) of the year videos, and have thoughts about his picks for each year's worst anime (singular).

2018: My Sister My Writer

A good start for the series. I mean, it's not a good anime; those have no place in these videos. It's a brother-sister incest anime with countless technical failures in its artistry. But Geoff isn't just picking this anime because it's gross and incompetent; it also half-asses the incest, and Geoff makes a point about how that makes it even worse than normal gross incompetent anime.

Conception at least commits to its bit so that people who, for some reason, want to watch an anime about magic threesomes can kinda enjoy it. But My Sister My Writer wants to have its cake and eat it too, to "be trashy without being seen as trash". This alienates the people who actually like that flavor of trash, while still indulging in the trashiness enough to alienate people who don't. It's "an anime for no one," which makes it worse than other bad anime almost by default.

2020: Gibiate

(I will get to 2019 later)

In contrast to prior years, there's not really a "point" to highlighting Gibiate as the worst anime. It's a massive failure of plot construction and technical artistry and showrunning, but not in any way unique to Gibiate. All four of the other anime on Geoff's list were bad in distinctive ways; Dragon's Dogma's clumsy political screeds, Peter Grill's entire premise, Shiraneko Project's homeopathic pacing. Even Hatana Illusion's lazy character writing and sloppy worldbuilding stand out more than anything Gibiate does wrong.

Gibiate is just poorly constructed. It's a high concept with bad animation and a worse script, but they're bad in ways that a lot of animation and scripts are bad, just more so. Its most distinctive mistake was hiring Yoshitaka Amano as a character designer, but most of its problems are unrelated to that mistake.

I kinda wish Geoff let his grudge against Hatena Illusion's phantom-thief bait-and-switch overwhelm his objectivity that year. In principle, there's nothing wrong with highlighting an all-around stinker, but it seems a bit silly when it would be so thoroughly eclipsed right after Geoff aired that video.

2021: Ex-Arm

"Some things are obvious because they are right."

—Lanipator

On paper, Ex-Arm has a stronger story than most of Geoff's Worst Anime winners, which might be the faintest praise I've ever damned something with. Its story is not good; by all accounts, it's just a narrative framework for cyborg combat, ecchi, and half-remembered philosophy borrowed from better science fiction. But that mediocre, derivative story deserved better than this.

Visual Flight, the studio who adapted Ex-Arm, had effectively zero relevant experience. A live-action TV director was handed a company that did some outsourced model work for From Software and decided that he had a team capable of "declaring war on all the science fiction series of the world." If you're reading this post, you probably know he lost that war without fighting a single battle.

On one hand, Ex-Arm's flaws are almost purely technical in nature; its narrative is weak in ordinary ways. On the other hand, those technical flaws are without peer; its bad animation is some of the worst animation in the industry, its bad storyboards stem from production woes few anime can survive, its bad compositing is almost imperceptible next to those other flaws, like the dark mirror of great compositing.

The sheer hubris of Ex-Arm's creative leads turned mere technical flaws into an object lesson on hubris.

2022: Lucifer and the Biscuit Hammer

Geoff doesn't bury the lede about the very personal reason why LBH was both the Biggest Disappointment and the Number One Big Kahuna Worst Anime of 2022 (there was a format change that year). It has bad pacing and worse visuals, but Geoff was mostly pissed that one of his favorite stories ever was turned into an animated piece of garbage.

I don't mind Geoff ranking anime according to his personal taste, but in this case his anger eclipses any discussion of what actually makes the Lucifer and the Biscuit Hammer anime so bad. He briefly describes what makes the manga great, briefly describes the most unremarkable set of complaints you could make about a bad anime adaptation, and goes on an unhinged AVGN rant.

2023 part 1: Kizuna no Allele

(Due to a format change, in 2023 Geoff separately named a "worst" and a "most cursed" anime. Also "best," but that's not what this post is about.)

Kizuna no Allele is the only anime on this list I've seen a single episode, and I agree with Geoff's critiques. It's utterly devoid of substance, its style is incoherent at best, and it shills NFTs. But aside from the NFT thing, it's bad in ways that make Gibiate's failures look unique. If it wasn't for the NFT thing and the baffling way it decides to advertise Kizuna Ai (by barely including her in the show), I doubt Geoff would have enough critique to fill an "honorable mention" sentence.

Dull anime make for dull roasts, which might be part of why Geoff did a new format for 2023.

2023 part 2: My Life as Inukai-san's Dog

Geoff Thew identified this as the "most cursed" anime of 2023, and I sincerely hope it deserves that title.

You know what I said about My Sister My Writer not committing to elements that alienate ordinary audiences? This anime doesn't have that problem. I regret finding out this anime exists, and will not force this cursed knowledge on anyone who doesn't seek it out. Google at your own risk.

2019: High School Prodigies Have it Easy Even In Another Life

If I was gonna rank Geoff's picks for the worst annual anime, this would be my top pick.

As you might have noticed, his worst anime picks from 2020 onwards were mostly just bad in normal ways. Leave out the personal despair of L&BH or the...everything of Inuskai-san's Dog, and you've got a handful of anime from different genres with very similar failures.

Almost uniquely out of Geoff's "worst anime of the year" contenders, High School Prodigies Have it Easy Even In Another Life has a strong enough story for its themes to be criticized. And those themes are what Geoff tears into.

HSPHIEEIAL (pronounced hsfeeeal) is about a bunch of high school prodigies (natch), including "the world's greatest politician" and a top-tier businessman (both seventeen years old), getting isekai'd into and fixing a dystopic fantasy empire. That's a potentially interesting premise; I picked up the first volume of How a Realist Hero Rebuilt the Kingdom because of how interesting that concept is. But HSPHIEEIAL handles that concept even worse than either of the Realist Hero chapters I bothered reading.

The Freyjagard Empire isn't a messy tangle of institutions entangled not just with each other but with the means of production which make Freyjagard's society possible. Ending its reign of terror doesn't require understanding how the different loci of power interact and intersect, or cautious political maneuvering, or even a few instances of surgically applied force.

The politician uses his politician power of "shooting people" to shoot the evil ugly emperor, the businessboy uses his capitalist power of wealth accumulation, and they start working with the nobles who worked for the emperor to build a new utopian society. The implication, intended or thoughtless, is that the Empire was only bad because the guy in charge was an inherently evil dude, and now that inherently good teenagers are in charge, the lackeys and organizations that served the evil emperor can be trusted to work for the greater good?

Anyways. That utopia, which our prodigies create with their prodigious skills and modern technology out of the canvas of a world whose institutions had to be razed to the ground before starting over, is "just another modern capitalist democracy". They were inventing a new society for a world where democracy was a foreign concept, and they didn't reach any higher than the status quo.

Between this high-level overview and some details I've left out (especially the businessboy's part in the plot), it does kinda seem like the story sees institutions of any kind as a morally neutral tool that leaders use to shape society in their own image. Democracy is not good because it empowers the common people or incentivizes certain types of behavior in its elected officials; it's good because it lets people choose inherently good people to be their leaders instead of being stuck with whichever royal brat happened to be born first.

That's not just bad politics; it's mundane bad politics in a context where you could get away with writing just about anything. To quote Geoff:

While other anime [in 2019] have been uglier, and boring-er, and at times even more rage-inducing-er, none of them come anywhere near being that existentially depressing for me. To think that an artist could go to the lengths of constructing out an entire anime fantasy world, and writing out a grand, serialized epic about its utopian evolution...only to end up saying "Eh, this is as good as it gets," because for all that imagination they've failed to dream up anything better... That kills me a bit inside.

Do you see what I'm saying? HSPHIEEIAL is bad in a unique way. An interesting way. To quote Geoff again, just moments later:

The real point [of the video] is for all of us to have some fun at the expense of anime with problems that I think are funny, and given how my brain works, this is the one that gave me the most to make fun of, by far.

I don't want to say that was lost in Geoff's later "Worst Anime of [Year]" videos; 2020's silver-medal loser, Hatena Illusion, gave Geoff a lot of distinctive failures to make fun of. But it's the silver-medal loser, and it lost to Gibiate, a series that just has a derivative nonsense plot and mediocre production quality. It looks bad, but it's not Ex-Arm bad, you know? It's not bad in a way that you can roast it for twenty minutes, twice in separate videos, and have new stuff each time.

Gibiate is, by my reckoning, ordinary bad. Not "4/10" ordinary, but "bad in the ways many 4/10 anime are, just not all at once". Same with L&BH, aside from Geoff's love of the source material. Same with Kizuna no Allele, aside from that one time it shilled NFTs. Honestly, mostly same with Inukai-san's Dog if we include 4/10 hentai.

[thiniceofeternalyouth]

MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER TWELVE

THIEF OF THREE DESTINIES

⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader

series masterlist

Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology.

Words count: ~13k

⊲ previous

[July 1, 2020; 02:17am; hunters' hq]

[02:01] You: Megumi's back, he's fine

Delivered.

Unread.

[02:11] You: u ok?

Delivered.

Unread.

Gojo wasn't answering your calls either. You were drowning in an abyss of intrusive thoughts, each one worse than the last. Was he okay? If he was all right, why was he silent? Such silence was like the silence of a dead man - just as endlessly cold.

You stirred, pushing the images away from you and setting the phone aside. Maybe that was your lesson to learn. Wasn't that what he meant by loneliness?

There was nothing left of Kyle, not even his cold corpse was honored to rest deep underground. His image along with the vague tracings of his voice seemed to beg you not to forget him, but you knew that every image and every melancholy has a year later. Eventually, a wave of new memories would erase his still-green eyes. 

The moral compass had been broken, trampled, torn to pieces. In which direction should the lost traveler go now? This entire time traveler had been walking along the dark side of the moon towards the calling sun - towards something bright and warm. Where would the road lead if the sun was stolen?

"Meg," you called out detachedly. "Asleep?"

"No," replied the mechanical voice.

"I have a riddle."

"I'm listening."

"There are two hunters," you began, staring blankly at the black monitor screen. "One is experienced, the other is a newbie. They were surrounded by demons, the experienced one was killed, and the newbie survived. What kinda a case is this?"

"The newbie was with the demons," Meg replied without hesitation or questioning intonation.

"Think again," you said, admonishing more yourself than the artificial intelligence.

Meg was silent, but it was as if you could hear her digging through the informational bowels of universal human knowledge, and she was doing it so fast that it would take you a lifetime to absorb that much information. "Hmm...," Meg drawled. "The messengers don't get killed?"

"The messengers don't get killed," you confirmed in a whisper, watching in the extinguished monitor as your eyes went black.

You didn't even notice that you had chewed your own thumb to a bloody pulp. Those devils knew everything. From start to finish. They knew you'd broken into a settlement, knew which one, knew that Kyle would be going instead of you that day. So where was the rat lurking? Was it one of the people in the void? Or was it one of the people who lived in the house?

Knock-knock.

Your only task was to keep your head down. You knew exactly what they were after, and they seemed to be getting close. Every day it became harder for you to control the turns of the invisible blades embedded in your body. You wiped the moisture from your dark eyes with a sharp movement, and making sure you looked like anyone else, you walked to the door.

A pair of sad, frightened child's eyes greeted you. "Why ya still awake?" you asked Yuuji tiredly, trying to maintain a neutral, if not positive, attitude. The boy looked down at first, before peeking over your shoulder. "Okay, come in," you surrendered, throwing up your hands.

He walked hesitantly over to your bed and sat down on the very edge. It looked like he was about to fall to the floor. "I... I brought something," Itadori began in a shaky voice and reached into his pocket with the same hands. "I think...," he stammered, and you could see him literally chewing the inside of his cheeks. "I'm sorry, but I don't think you should have thrown it away," he stated in an already firm voice, looking you dead in the eye. In his outstretched hand lay a silver bracelet, mockingly sparkling. "Especially in the trash can," boy added more quietly, trying to hide from you again. "It's a memory."  

"I've never complained about my memory," you said, shrugging.

"That's not the point!" he protested, and the bracelet almost fell out of his hand. Itadori immediately pressed it to his chest. "Don't you wanna have a piece of him always near you? It's very precious," he whispered, pressing the jewelry harder against his chest.

"This thing's worth 20 bucks."

"Don't you dare say that," Itadori hissed. His fear faded away, making way for anger at the words you had said. "Take it!" he ordered, holding out the jewelry to you again. "Take it, now!"

It was the one shining thing that didn't make you want to take it or steal it. You walked over to the bed and sat down next to the boy, and you had no time for inner cries and agonizing - you couldn't show weakness in front of anyone. As soon as you took the bracelet in your hands, you felt like the ultimate fool. Why did you throw it away in the first place? It had never been a soulless piece of metal, at least not since you'd put it on your brother's arm.

You glanced around the workroom. Kyle wasn't here anymore, and he never would be. Maybe you'd never see him again, or maybe he'd see you in hell.

Along with everyone else.

"Thank ya," you smiled weakly but sincerely at Itadori. Maybe he sensed it, maybe he heard it in your voice, but he fidgeted restlessly, dropping his gaze to the floor again.

"What are you thanking me for...? I yelled at you. I'm sorry," he mumbled, and the swollen red face was drawn again with sorrow. Where is the artist who painted such things on children's faces? Maybe if you ripped their heart out, you'd feel a little better.

You wrapped your fingers around Yuji's chin, making him look up at you. "For being more mature than me today," you tried to wipe away the tears that had started streaming down his cheeks before you'd even finished speaking. He snuggled into your shoulder, muffling the tearing sobs. You didn't pay attention to how wet your sweatshirt was from his tears and snot, only gently stroking his back. "It's gonna be okay," you repeated the words like a mantra straight into the pink top of his head.

His body was clearly exhausted, and he collapsed in your arms. Yuji seemed to have cried for so long that all the water had gone out of his organism. "Try to get some sleep, 'kay?" you said, adjusting the pillow on the bed with your hand. At his exhausted questioning look, you shrugged. "Ya can go to your room if ya want. It's just that I remember ya saying it's quieter at my place."

You patted him on the top of his head and got up from the bed, heading back to the computer chair. A murmur behind you made you chuckle quietly - apparently Itadori had made his choice. "Y/N?" he addressed you quietly, covering himself with a blanket. You hummed questioningly. "You didn't call sensei?"

You didn't want to disturb an already wounded young heart. "He's busy right now, so I didn't bother him with the news," you said evasively. "Just texted him to say that Megumi is fine. Now go back to sleep."

A fresh morning breeze wandered through the room, taking all the memories with it as it made its way back through the window into the freedom of the bay. There really wasn't much stuff - you only needed three boxes to pack all of Kyle's clothes. Was it always this black and gray, or had you stopped perceiving colors?

You folded another T-shirt carefully, deliberately slow. After all, this was the last day you'd ever been this close to him. As you put the folded T-shirt in the box, you glanced at the unopened men's perfume on the bedside table. Would anyone need it now?

When you picked up the black sweatshirt, the door clicked open. The fresh air in the room was instantly freezing, chilling to the bone. Rachel was like the walking dead, even the large eyes on her gaunt face showed no signs of life. She stood on the other side of the bed, across from you, staring blankly at the sweatshirt you were holding.

You tentatively held it out to Rachel, and she took the sweatshirt in her hands after a few more seconds of staring blankly at the space. "Um...," you began quietly, watching her go through the clothes in her hands. "I packed everything here, so... When ya go to Hopetown, bring it with ya, 'kay?"  

Rachel covered her eyes for a moment, her nose buried in the sweater as if she hadn't heard you at all. You looked away awkwardly and headed for the exit. "Ya're going too," she demanded in a strangled voice.

You sighed convulsively and turned around - Rachel was still standing with her back to you. "Rach, I don't have time to stand by a tombstone that doesn't even have a body underneath it." 

Everything froze. Your ears heard nothing, your eyes saw nothing. Your skin felt neither wind nor touch. Even your memory stopped - all the images melted away, spreading out into the obscurity.

You came to your senses from the impact of your head hitting the floor. Rachel was on top of you, clutching your throat with both hands - she must have been doing it for a long time because your chest was already cramping helplessly. Certain places on your body were aching desperately, especially your ribs and cheekbones. "Rach," you wheezed, grasping weakly at her wrists.

She held it all in not making a sound, and you could have sworn you could see the muscles in her face tense behind the shroud of rage. You tried to reach out to her again, but another pathetic croak escaped your lips, and Rachel let go of your neck, whimpering suppressedly. "Ya're going," she hissed, getting up from the floor.

You pulled yourself up, coughing and rubbing your neck. "Rachel," your voice became an order of magnitude rougher as if your sister's hands were still clutching your throat. "I understand ya feel bad," you watched as she walked back to the bed, looking down at the same sweatshirt and wiping silent tears from her face. "But why ya so angry with me?"

She turned around sharply, meeting your uncomprehending gaze. "Because it's ya who should bear that burden, not me!" she shouted out desperately. "It's-," her own sobbing interrupted her, and she tried to push it away, hiding her face in hands. "It's all your fault, so why am I theone in tears right now?"   

"I didn't ask anyone to follow me-"

"Shut your fucking mouth!" the perfume flew just an inch from your face. When it hit the wall, it left nothing behind but shards that crumbled to the floor. "Shut up!" Rachel gasped and agonized with her own emotions. Despite the fact that she let them out, it didn't get any easier in the slightest. "Ya just an ungrateful bitch," she hissed weakly. "Ya'll go to the funeral. Otherwise your white-haired weirdo will find out-"

"He knows," you cut it off.

"That's how it is," Rachel said, naively slamming her eyes shut. "Then it's strange that he's still with ya. I can barely stand ya, even though I've been around since I was a kid."

"Rachel," you sighed tiredly. "Let's just not fight, 'kay? This isn't really a good time for that."

Wiping the nearly dried paths of tears from her face, your sister straightened to her full height and headed for the exit. "Ya're going or ya don't have a sister anymore either," she mumbled absently, shoving you with her shoulder.

It was definitely her favorite.

"We are gathered here today to honor the memory of our beloved son, brother, friend..."

The weather was clearly mocking. The midday sun brightly illuminated the growing greenery, the black-clad people, and the names on the tombstones. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, just a vast blue. Nature didn't seem to want to grieve with the people. She didn't care about all of you.

You stood away from everyone else, leaning against a tree. There was no place to hide in this cemetery field, and the tree seemed to be your only refuge. You pressed your shoulder against it as hard as you could, smoking your third cigarette.

"Words cannot express the full horror of this tragedy that has touched us all..." 

Tragedy.

Megumi and Danielle stood in the front rows, huddled together as if trying to become one. Both were pale and lifeless, but Dany still had the strength to cry. She stood with her face buried in his neck, unable to look at the closed coffin, and the boy stroked her head inconsolably, unable to take his eyes off of it. It was unclear which of them had it worse, but they decided to deal with it together.

It brought some people together.

Rachel stood beside them, holding Mike in her arms. She kept her hand on the redhead's head, pulling her son closer to her chest as if ordering him not to look. You could see his little body flinch and twitch. Rachel never spoke to you after that fight. She didn't even look in your direction.

Someone was distanced by it.

Frank's skin was the color of his hair and beard, but he struggled to keep that same good-natured expression, though it was completely drenched in sadness. He stared blankly at the empty coffin. How could you look him in the eye now that you couldn't even bring the body?

The people from the void who had come to the funeral were frightened. This man had saved them, fought for them, but if he was suddenly mortal, didn't that mean the rest of you were too?

Tragedy inevitably befalls everyone. For some it prepares them, for others it comes completely unexpectedly. It leaves behind either a hardened spirit or a broken heart - a person must choose for themselves.

"Wherever he goes, I believe he will end up in the arms of God..."

If God didn't have time to keep track of everything going on here, who's to say he had time to keep track of the other side? Did it even exist? You looked around the cemetery helplessly. There was a whole universe under each tombstone, but what would be under your brother's one?

"Y/N," greeted the woman who came up behind you.

"Camila," you said, taking another drag on your cigarette. The woman leveled herself at you and stared through her dark glasses at the spectacle in front of you. "I didn't think anyone from the old generation would come here."

"Can we be judged for that?" asked Camila plaintively. "Kyle's death hardly our business."

"He's Frank's son," you reminded her. "To Frank ya owe a lot."

"I didn't come here to bicker," the woman said sternly, nervously smoothing her already perfectly bunched hair. "I want you to give me my sons back."

"Did that one death scare ya like that?" you raised your eyebrows in surprise.

"One?" barked Camila, but immediately lowered her voice so as not to draw attention to herself. "Whatever. Anyway, I'm expecting Axel and Ryan home tomorrow. If not, we'll come pick them up ourselves," she gave you a meaningful look as if she wanted you to feel like you were nothing.

"Will mom's skirt save them in battle, too?"

There was a resounding smack. You bit your lip and put a hand to your aching cheek.

"It's called concern," she hissed, leaning over you. "You don't know of such a thing, do you? You don't care who you let go to waste."

"Concern?" you chuckled. "It didn't keep your hubby safe," when she tried to hit you again, you intercepted her arm, digging your nails into her skinny wrist. The hiss of bubbling blood eclipsed all sound, so you didn't immediately notice that there was no noise at all. No voices, no stomping. "Hit me again and I'll rip your heart out. Just like everyone else who will come to our house," you had barely finished grinning when a ringing silence that you hadn't sensed earlier hit your ears. Stunned by this, you turned towards the people gathered here to pay their honor. All of them were looking at you.

Shoving the frightened Camila's hand away from you, you strode away from the cemetery to the taunts of the midday sun.

Gojo thought he was doing the right thing. At least for the first couple days. Wasn't it fair to feed you the same pill you kept giving him? If you didn't give it a taste, how else would you know how bitter it was? That's how he reassured himself when he saw another missed call. If on the first day it made him smile stupidly, after a while he grew more and more anxious - maybe you've forgotten him already? He had to hand it to you - in all this time you called only four times, the last call was dated last night. It wasn't enough for him. He didn't want you to miss him only at night, he wanted to be in your thoughts every morning and evening, whether you were eating or fighting.

Gojo didn't miss your messages either. Megumi did well, how could he not? It couldn't have happened to any of his students otherwise.

He muffled the panic rising in his chest by poking curse's eye out with his heel. The eye burst with a squelching sound. He couldn't count how many times it had been these days because he had personally volunteered for mission after mission. "God, that's a lot of yelling," he muttered, tucking his hands into his pockets and pressing down on the ugly head even harder. Whether there was a brain inside the curse head or something else, Gojo's shoes were immediately stained with purple goo.

Gojo didn't hear the phone ring because of the ultrasound, but he pulled it out when he felt it vibrate in his pocket. Biting his lip in frustration, he stared at the caller's name for a while longer before answering. "Hey," Gojo chirped.  

"Jesus, what's that sound in the background?" hissed Megumi. The boy was heard to pull away from the phone.

"Oh, wait a second," Gojo rambled apologetically. He squatted down, and leaning over the curse, grabbed it by something that resembled a throat. When the covers crunched, when the curse froze, opening its mouth in an already silent scream, a mad chuckle escaped Gojo's lips. Clenching his hand even tighter, he ripped the creature's head off with a single tug. Tossing it away from him, Gojo leaned the phone to his ear again. "Better?" he asked carelessly.  

A long sigh sounded from the other side. "Are you really that busy or are you really just an unscrupulous asshole?"

"Hey!" he resented. "It's been so long since we've seen each other, and you don't have a warm word to say?"

"You should come. Anyway, the ceremony's already over, but I think it would be respectful to at least show up here," Megumi muttered moodily, and what was even more surprising to Gojo was the weakness hiding behind the usual scowl.

"Ceremony?" wondered Gojo, feeling his palms begin to sweat. "What did you guys do in there without me?" he asked, trying to suppress a nervous grin. 

"Uh," Megumi began uncertainly. "Didn't Y/N tell you?"

"Told me about what?" he inquired, smiling forcefully. There was silence on the other end, and the longer it lasted, the harder his heart began to pound. It pounded loudly and painfully, breaking all his arrogance and confidence in his own actions. "Megumi, told me about what?" 

Before his heart could stop, there was a rustling sound as if Megumi had pulled the phone as close to him as possible. "Kyle's dead."

They'd never been close. A few insults and promises to kick each other's asses were all they had in common. However, Gojo wasn't hurting for himself right now.

That's why you called him last night. You had called him twice in a row, and while Gojo had hesitated to answer the first call, the second one had made him throw the phone away. He'd been told that many times, directly or veiledly, jokingly or seriously, but as soon as he waved his hand, the words evaporated before they reached his soul. He couldn't even look up now, though. For the first time he felt like nothing.  

Sitting at the empty dining room table, Rachel stared out the window as if there were something more mesmerizing than the everyday sunset. Whether she prayed, pleaded, or argued, the inhabitants of heaven were adamant or deaf. The angels and their arrows did not care about human suffering.

Gojo was sure she heard the front door slam, so why didn't she turn around? The only thing that moved was her fingers, which scrabbled against the tabletop, occasionally touching the crystal ashtray that held at least twenty or so cigarette butts. The ashes smeared awkwardly against the table were like feelings - neither reversed nor returned, only wiped away with a damp cloth. "Hey," Gojo sounded muffled in spite of his ringing voice. "Sorry for your loss," Rachel never turned around. No nod of her head, no greeting. "Um... You know where Y/N is? Is she still in town?"  

"Why would I know where your monster is," she mumbled. Despite her slurred words, there was no bottle or glass on the table in front of her. Apparently, her father's influence was taking its toll.

"Uh? You're her sister," he said with a perplexed shrug.

Rachel clicked her tongue lazily, not taking her eyes off the window. "I wish I wasn't."

"Oh, I see," he drawled, an arrogant smirk in his voice. "So you're the poor unfortunate girl. The only one who lost someone, huh?" he tilted his head sideways, looking at your sister. There was no child sitting in front of him, so where did such childish behavior come from? "Grow up already."

Rachel sat still for a few seconds, then slowly turned her body and stared at Gojo with empty eyes. He'd come to her house, to her family, hung around her sister, failed to show up at her brother's funeral, and dared to mock her.

"Tranquillity."   

Gojo remained standing as he was. He realized that something had happened; even though he wasn't shackled, he felt strange as if the chain did exist and it was beginning to be slowly pulled around his neck. "Is that all you got?" he asked excitedly. There was only one desire burning in him now - to test the limits of his own abilities. 

If she'd had the strength to smile, her face would have contorted into a mad grimace, but right now Rachel just kept watching him. Nothing reflected in her glassy eyes. No surprise, no satisfaction. "What were ya saying about your infinity?" she asked blankly, not expecting an answer. It was not enough for her. If he couldn't feel the mental pain, let him feel the physical.

"Tranquillity."

She was ready to tear him and his equanimity. Thin black strips crawled along her fingers, wrapping around every inch of tanned skin.

It was hard for him to breathe, but the reverse technique was doing its job - it broke the chains time after time, but they were put back on, each one thicker than the last. His hand flew involuntarily to his throat.

"Rachel, that's enough!" shouted Frank, rushing down from the second floor. He hadn't even had time to change - he was still wearing his black suit. "I said STOP!" he howled, and Rachel's head popped up. When the chains of dark energy stopped restraining Gojo, he began gasping for air.

Frank walked over to him, and taking him by the shoulder, looked him over anxiously. "Son, ya okay?" Gojo nodded, rubbing his throat. "And ya," he turned angrily to his daughter. "What the hell ya doing?"  

Rachel showed an emotion other than total absence for the first time in a day. She laughed bitterly. "I'm just wondering why everyone is defending her."

"I don't know who exactly ya talking about," the man hissed. "But we have a duty to protect her because she's our family."

Rachel laughed even harder, and the louder her laugh was, the crazier it sounded. "Mom never carried her under her heart! She's here because you're a hearty idiot! You just felt sorry-"

"Shut your mouth!" snapped Frank sharply.

"I won't!" she yelled, jumping up from her chair. "None of this would have happened if it wasn't for her! I just want to come home and know that Kyle will meet me! Alive!" she gasped, muffling her own sobs. "And now he's gone. All because ya took pity on her once! You should have just left her to them," she whimpered weakly, her head collapsing onto her chest.

"You don't feel well. Go to your room," Frank ordered softly.

She glared sharply at him, for ire gave her strength. "Ya can't tell me what to do!"

"I am your father. Sure I can," he replied firmly, and though he kept his voice low, it sounded much louder than his daughter's screams. 

"Obedience."

Rachel groaned painfully and tried to keep her legs in place, but they were trying to get off the floor against her will. "Fuck you," she spat out, and then she went up the stairs and disappeared to the second floor.

Gojo watched Frank anxiously. The man was breathing heavily, staring after his daughter and rubbing his chest as if his heart were painfully throbbing. His arm was covered in dark, wriggling stripes, and when Frank's legs started to wobble, Gojo picked him up immediately. "Hey, hey, oldman," he gibbered worriedly. "What's the matter?" he dragged Frank to the couch, and sitting him down, poured him some water. 

"Thanks, son," the man took the glass with a shaky hand and took a couple sips. "Sorry for no warm welcome today. We're all on edge right now," setting the water aside, Frank pulled back the collar of his shirt. The dark lines wrapping around his collarbones almost reached his heart. "Shit...and here I thought I can live to fight another day," he grinned grimly.

Frank wasn't a fool. He may not have been the smartest man, but he had a lot of experience under his belt. He saw no anger or irritation on Gojo's face at what had happened, just the faded blue eyes. "Lost someone?" the man asked.

Gojo nodded briefly without looking up. "Yeah," he said quietly. 

"She's in the church now," Frank prompted politely. "She went to give some things away, so... You'll find her there."

"Do you really think I'd leave an old man with a heart attack?" clinging to the remnants of his temper, Gojo glanced slyly at Frank.

He got a fatherly slap, not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough to set him straight. "Go already," Frank growled, and Gojo didn't bother to argue or bicker with him. Rubbing his aching heart, Frank barely waited for the door to slam shut. "Ya left too soon, Kyle," he sobbed, digging his fingernails into the blackened skin. "They still need your care."   

You dragged the boxes to the far corner hidden behind the columns and unlit by hundreds of candles. You did it as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb the praying parishioners. On days like this, the church came alive. The hall filled with light from the fire was crowded with people, and those who did not have enough room in the pews reverently said their prayers on the floor, on their knees. Everyone was silent, all those present turned only to God. Paradoxically, it only took one dead person to do this. On other days, the place was not gloomy, but rather empty - all the voices of those who came here echoed off the walls.

You could barely lift the boxes as if each one weighed a ton. When you would sneak quietly into a corner with a box, your forearms would ache terribly and you would want to drop everything or carry it back home. Were clothes always this heavy? Or was it the weight of parting?

When you reached the last box, you took your time putting it down. You held it tightly to you as if you were hugging it, and sat down on the floor next to the rest of the things. Watching the people in the gap between the columns, you wondered - perhaps you should have done the same. No one had ever explained what silent prayers could do. It was something intimate, something that remained only between man and the creature from above.

Man is all-powerful. Man is fragile. A person can move mountains or they can break their heel jumping off the bench. Person loves and hates, misses and has fun, makes mistakes and feats, but they forget that all this exists only because of them. Without them there would be neither conquered mountains, nor love nor hate.

And then the man dies.

"Y/N," a soft voice addressed you. "Don't sit on the cold floor. You'll catch a cold," you looked up and saw the Holy Father holding out his hand to you.

Setting the box aside with the rest of Kyle's belongings, you took his palm and stood up, shaking off your feet. "Kalev," you awkwardly tried to shove the boxes away so they wouldn't get in the way. "Um... Thank ya for performing the ceremony."

"What are you talking about?" wondered the Holy Father quietly. He was still dressed in his ceremonial robes, and unlike the others, it was completely white except for the wide collar - it was embroidered with silver threads. "Of course, I agreed to it. I don't care about the rumors. We're all human, and we deserve to go to the other world accompanied by a God."

"Yeah," you muttered, faltering and not looking up. "I guess ya're right."

"What's troubling you?" he asked worriedly, barely touching your hand. "We can always talk," seeing your gaze flicker around the church, he squeezed your palm harder, trying to reassure you.

You knew what awaited you behind those columns, away from the congregation. A small, cramped room that separated the speakers by a mesh partition. "There's no way I'm going to the confessional," you grinned nervously, feeling the back of your neck sweat.

"I didn't say anything about confession," the Holy Father smiled modestly. "I was talking about ordinary human interaction," the man spoke the most ordinary words, but the aura around him radiated a light-winged warmth as if he really was protected by a god. "I will always be happy to talk to you, Y/N," he continued to hold your hand in his, wrinkled and cognizant of the years that carried not only his joys and sorrows, but others' as well. "But it seems to me that someone else wants to talk to you now."

His kind gaze didn't change a bit as he looked over your shoulder. When he let go of your hand, he nodded softly, ordering you to go. As if it were a command from above, you turned around.

You couldn't see his face in the shadow of the columns, but you knew who it was. You walked past Gojo and sat down on the step without even looking at him. Since it was the will of the shadows, let the expression on his face remain a mystery to you forever. "I'm sorry," came the husky voice that had always been ringing and cheerful.

"Me too," you replied detachedly, watching the deserted town.

He carefully sat down beside you, keeping his distance. "Why didn't you tell me what happened?"

"So ya didn't see the calls and texts after all."

"I saw, but...," the heated tiles beneath his feet began to crumble. Gojo had heard once of that feeling of the ground leaving beneath one's feet, but no one had warned him that it would do so slowly. "If you only texted me about what happened, I would be here right away."

"Why," you couldn't even catch the sarcasm in the impersonality of your voice. "Did something like this really have to happen for ya to finally pick up the phone and say ya 'kay?"

So that was it. You didn't ask for help or pity. You just wanted to be reassured that he was okay. "I really am an asshole," there was none of his usual sass in his voice. Just the realization crashing down on him like a slab of granite, crushing all arrogance and carelessness. "I'm sorry. I'm not- I'm just- God," he buried his face in his palms. "I can't even find the right words."

"Whatever," you said, and your alienation did not catch his despair. "I still have more to think about besides another person being disappointed in me."

"No, no, no. It's not like that at all," he mumbled in a weak voice. He cupped your face. To his surprise, you gave in effortlessly as if you were a rag doll. "Only a brainless idiot would be disappointed in you," he leaned his forehead against yours. "And I'm an idiot, but I have brains. Right?" he asked you, and noticing the faintly familiar wrinkles in the corners of your eyes, he smiled, even though his eyes were glistening treacherously.

"If you had brains, you'd run away," you didn't realize that both his mind and his heart had been screaming to the contrary for a long time. That's why he was here now, in front of you and with you, all broken with naked soul. 

Gojo pressed you tighter against him and even pushed you back a little, so as not to disturb the exiting parishioners, but you didn't notice anything. On the other hand, he noticed everything, right down to the way you burrowed harder into his neck when someone walked past you. "Mochi," he rubbed his nose softly against the top of your head. "Is anyone home?"

"No," you replied without raising your head. "All here in Hopetown."

Not to a grieving Rachel, not to a worried Frank, not to a maelstrom of hissing hunters - he didn't want to give you to anyone. Gojo hoped you would understand his selfish desire. "Let's go home then, 'kay?" he whispered and, stunned by the church bells and the beating of his own heart, he kissed you shyly on the temple - your very first kiss. 

You washed away today - all the water running down the drain, taking the dust, sweat, anger, and pain with it. You tried not to disturb your mental equilibrium, and one way to maintain it was with a routine. After smearing moisturizers on your body and applying balm to your hair, you wrapped yourself in a robe and stood in front of the dresser with your clothes. Gojo wanted you to open up - it was time to start somewhere. 

You had no idea what was waiting for you on the floor above. You'd agreed to just watch something, but Gojo was running around the kitchen trying to make a quick meal. He's already gotten it into his head that you're an omnivore. Maybe there were some exceptions like boiled carrots or something, but he didn't like those things too, which meant you'd find something to your liking from all the things he'd quickly cooked and panic-bought at an unknown store - in his state of chaos, Gojo didn't even realize where he'd teleported to. Garlic croutons, mozzarella cheese balls, baked shrimp in bacon, nachos with chili sauce, a few chocolate bars - cholesterol plaques. Everything just the way you liked it. "Well... Acceptable," he muttered, eyeing the edibles.

"What is it?" you asked, peering out from behind his forearm. Gojo didn't even jump - he was used to living in this house with the thought that you could be behind him at any moment. He was ready for anything. Or he thought so until he turned around. 

You were wearing regular pajama pants. Avocado, kitten, funny writing, or solid colors - he'd seen them all. But instead of the usual closed shirt, you were wearing a top. A little stretched and faded, but it hid almost nothing. "Uh," you drawled uncertainly, noticing the lost expression on Gojo's face. "Is something wrong?" you took a step back.  

Gojo had long suspected what was under your clothes, and his suspicions were confirmed. Scars of all kinds - sunken, bumpy, torn, and stretched - adorned your skin, layered on top of each other. The whitish-pink indentations on your wrists were like bracelets, and your throat was covered with many thin tightened cuts, like a dried bloody necklace.  

That wasn't what Gojo was interested in. He knew that if he gave it a single thought, he would be consumed by rage, which was good only in battle and only if it was cold. However, in helpless rage one could only find the road to self-defeat. Anyway, a trigger clicked quietly in his head.   

Kill them all.

"N-no, it's okay," Gojo mumbled, averting his eyes in embarrassment. Your naked arms, shoulders, collarbones, and neck - it made it seem as if you'd exposed more than just a part of your body. "Y-you just- uh," he panted quietly and tried to brush away the unruly white strands that tickled his burning face with his hands. "You took me by surprise," he mumbled awkwardly, raising his eyes to you again.

"Well, I just wish I could wear something like that sometimes too. At least in your workroom," you shrugged. "When I told ya ya could sleep over sometimes, I didn't think ya'd end up living there," you chuckled, not noticing how the man in front of you was being pulled further and further into the abyss by the shame.

"Sorry, I- Uh, I-I just...," Gojo kept stammering like a flustered teenager, and his hands couldn't find their place - he was trying to shove them into his pockets, then cross them over his chest, then fix his hair again. "I'm sorry, I didn't even think of that," he admitted timidly. 

"Nothing, it's fine," you smiled, seeing his condition. "If it bothered me too much, I'd tell ya about it, so... Let's just take it all to the TV," you suggested, pointing to the food. Gojo nodded, and you walked over to the dining table. Seeing several bars of chocolate, you looked dumbfounded. "God," you whimpered. "Wait here. I forgot something." 

You had no right to do that. He'd been through too much emotion that day, and this waiting during your sudden outburst only made him more anxious. He tried to rub his face with his hands to get the red paint off it or to cool it down a little, but it was in vain. Even his hands were burning.

Gojo was eager to get everything ready. He moved all the food to the coffee table, fluffed all the pillows on the couch, brought a couple of blankets, turned on the TV and searched for a movie, but nothing worked. He was still in a panic. 

"Here," you drawled uncertainly, rising from the workroom and walking over to him, sitting on the couch and tapping his foot against the floor. "It's hardly tasty, so...," you bit your lip, holding out the chocolate bar to him. "Just a souvenir from the void," you chirped, flopping onto the couch and tucking your legs under you.   

Gojo stared dumbly at the bar of chocolate in the weathered wrapper - it had been pink, but there was no lettering or logo. Did you think of him?  Was there really room in your head for him in the midst of the cold and the demons, the half-dead people and the unknown? When you were all alone and didn't know how to get out? "I won't eat it, I guess," he said weakly, though he tried to smile slyly.

"Prissy," you snorted, grabbing the nearest pillow and throwing it at him. "Crank up TV."

You've seen several movies, but Gojo didn't understand any of them. The plot, the acting, the locations - he couldn't remember any of it, even though he was staring straight at the screen. Thoughts were rushing around in his head, and his side vision was emphasizing you. You were eating with an envious appetite on whatever he'd cooked or bought, which made him bury his face harder into the pillow he was cradling against his chest. Was it fair that you were so comfortable around him? Was he the only one in this room with a heart that was out of place?    

"That's it," you sighed tiredly, stretching. "I'm full and I can't move," you said, throwing the pillow on the couch and flopping down on it, keeping your legs tucked in so you wouldn't disturb Gojo. 

Okay, it may have been unfair, but it was rarely otherwise in this world. He made that decision on his own. If you were knocked out and made to run away by his attempts to get closer to you, he was willing to back off, but just one step back. No further. Everything was fine as long as you let him stay by your side in this room, on the same couch, eating mozzarella cheese balls he'd made.

"Hey," you poked your foot gently into his thigh. "You're falling asleep," you said, watching his eyelids slip shut. "At least lie down." 

Gojo glanced sleepily at the door; he didn't want to go down to the workroom. He sighed tiredly and lay down behind you. In a strangely familiar habit, he put his arm around your waist - your back was pressed against his chest. "Mochi," Gojo whispered gently into your shoulder, realizing it was time for a risky endeavor. "Look, this might seem weird to you, but... Is it just me or are you and Rachel not getting along?" 

He furrowed his brows at his own insolence, though he hadn't been bothered by those devils pulling his tongue before. You remained silent, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb, an action that made him relax a little. "We fight with her a lot," you finally uttered. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

"I just heard something I wasn't supposed to hear," he admitted honestly. "She said things like, uh... It's not like a common fight."

"She rarely watches her tongue," a shaky exhale escaped you, and Gojo, burrowing deeper into your neck, tried with all his might to show he was there for you. "Rachel, she's... She's not the bad person. It was just a bad day, that's all," he felt you squeeze his hand harder as if you were trying to hold him in place. "Besides... She has a right to be mad at me." 

He squeezed your hand in response. "Why?"

"I killed her husband."

You sat in the huge wooden barn, surrounded by sleeping cattle. The thin hay stung your skin even through your clothes, but you didn't dare move; you sat obediently as you had been told. The strong wind made the barn door wobble as if it were about to swing open. Nothing could be heard outside, only the long whistle of the night air through the cracks.

You tried irritably to wipe the dried blood off your hands, your skin itching and aching in places as you tried so hard to get rid of the scarlet liquid. With the quiet sleepy snorting of the animals and the shoving of another straw away from you, you wondered angrily. What had gone wrong? Where had you miscalculated? And where the fuck did Frank go?

No matter how fast or slow the time dragged on, he was already late. Did he really think that if he told you to sit still and keep your nose clean, he could disappear as long as he wanted?  

As irritation began to turn to frustration, the barn door swung open, banging loudly against the wall. "Shit," mumbled Frank to the howling wind that blew in. He examined the door, and making sure it was still on its hinges, closed it back with force.

You immediately jumped to your feet, approaching him. "Well? How bad is it?" you worried.

He put his arm around your shoulders, forcing you back into the haystack and sat down beside you. The stack immediately sagged, nearly flattening to the floor. "I'm not gonna lie. It's pretty bad," Frank admitted on an exhale.

"Hunters?"

"There's less than half of them left."

"And the people?" you asked hopefully.

"Everyone was slaughtered," Frank reported grimly, patting you comfortingly on the knee.

"Wonderful," you said desolately. "They were the first people we brought out of the void, and for what? So that a couple weeks later they could just be killed?"

"It's okay," the man put his arm around you, and noticing the deep cut on your eyebrow, touched it - dark lines immediately began to tighten it. "The important thing is that we're still alive."

"What... What's up with the plantation?" you asked through force, expecting the worst.

Your expectations were confirmed. "Burned down along with the village," Frank said threateningly quietly. "We don't have the black orchid anymore."

You jumped to your feet again, and even Frank's heavy hand couldn't hold you in place. You started pacing from side to side, wringing your hands nervously. "That's fucking bullshit," you bellowed. "Hunters have lived there for centuries, has anyone ever attacked?" at your rhetorical question Frank still shook his head. "Then what the hell? Did someone turn us in?"

"I have no clue," the man shook his head contritely. "We'll have to think about it on a fresh head. Right now it's better to rest."

Because of your worries and the excitement of the elements of nature, you did not hear someone knocking shyly on the barn door. The guest, not waiting to be answered, opened the door themselves.

You turned around, but Frank had already managed to step forward and covered you with his back. "Oh, Noah," he exhaled, and his body relaxed. "Thanks for bailing us out," Frank said, and he wasn't so hard at covering you anymore. Peeking out from behind his shoulder, you met the worried gaze of a man who was wrapping himself more tightly in a fur vest.

"It's nothing," Noah muttered, shivering from the cold. "But you can't stay here for long," he lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Don't think I'm chasing you out of here. It's just that they... They might find out through me that you're here."

"Don't worry. We'll wait out the night and leave at dawn," the insider nodded uncertainly at Frank's assurance and took a step backward, slamming his back into the wall. The clattering pitchfork made him jump up and he stormed out of the barn. "I dunno where to go, though," he admitted aloud.

"Then you'll come to our house," you said in a voice that didn't tolerate bickering.

"I doubt the hunters would agree," grinned Frank sadly.

"Let them go to motels then. I don't care," you waved it off, settling back on the haystack. "We ain't done with that settlement yet anyway. Those people need a place to live, and without hunters, there'll be more room in the house."

"Still... The house isn't rubber, after all," the man frowned.

"We have to rebuild the village," you tried to cheer Frank up. "Somewhere on the edge of the Earth. And this time we'll have to think seriously about how to protect it."   

***

Two months had passed since the bloody incident, and you were on tenterhooks again. It was comforting to know that you weren't the only one in that state. Kyle was sitting next to you on the couch in the hallway of the infirmary. He jumped up, walking to the closed door of the chamber, and then sat back down. Involuntarily watching his fidgeting, you began to get even more nervous. Doc had never taken so long to examine a patient before; had something terrible happened to Rachel?

Your brother wouldn't stop - he would pop his head up every now and then when there was a rustling and mumbling outside the door. "Ya're not helping. Sit down," you turned to him exhaustedly as he once again got up from the couch.

You shivered as the doc's replica rushed past you. The same white coat, the same hands that clutched the clipboard and pen, only the replica never had a face. A blank canvas with no eyes, no nose, no mouth. Doc was always good at optimization, but the implementation was sometimes horrifying.

You both rose from your seats as doc left the ward and closed the door behind him. Clutching the clipboard to his chest, he stared at you over his glasses. "Congratulations," he said glumly. "She's pregnant."

"What?" you both simultaneously blurted out, and were reflections of each other - both amazed, right down to your open mouths.

"I mean, it's...," began a panting Kyle. "That's great!"

"Go to her," Doc nodded, but as you took a step toward the room, he grabbed your arm. "Not you. In my office. Now," Doc hissed and immediately rushed off in the direction of his office. You and Kyle looked at each other dazedly, and after a little while, you headed after doc.

As you closed the office door, you saw doc fidgeting with his medical records, and when he found the right one, he began to flip through the pages. "Doc, what's the matter?" you worried, watching as he began to write something down. The pen was almost tearing the paper.

"Sit down," he called out without raising his eyes. You obediently took the chair and moving it closer to the desk, sat down. "I won't beat around the bush," he tossed the medical records aside and interlocking his fingers, stared at you again. "Rachel has uterine hypoplasia. Or rather, she had uterine hypoplasia."

"Uh," you began confusedly, digging around doc's desk with your eyes, not sure why. Maybe looking for answers. "Can we use human language?"

"Undeveloped uterus," doc chided. "Specifically in her case, no bigger than this thing here," he tossed a pencil eraser under your nose. "I examined her from top to bottom just a month and a half ago, everything was the same. And now she's pregnant," he said coldly.

"She never told me anything about her disease," you said wistfully, thoughtfully twirling a pencil eraser in your hands.

"She suspected her reproductive problems, but I never told her anything about her disease," doc explained glumly. "Rob wanted kids too much, and I wanted to find a solution to that problem before I told them everything," he grimaced as he watched you put the eraser back on the table. "But the problem seems to have been solved for me."

"Couldn't ya... Ya know, recover her or something?" you suggested weakly, crossing your arms.

"I can only replicate what is already available. Not create new things," doc shook his head, tapping his fingers restlessly on the table.

"So what ya getting at?" you asked, the corners of your lips involuntarily creeping upward, and there was no way you could stop that panicked nervous smile.

Was it because of this that a few months ago you all literally drowned in blood and lifeless bodies? Was the price of all this something ephemeral, something that had not yet come into this world? You didn't want to believe it, and you hoped that none of you would say it out loud.

Doc was of a different opinion. He was always satisfied only with truth and facts, and it didn't matter what they carried with them. "If you don't believe in God, I suggest you to start," he said, leaning back in his chair. "After all, if this isn't a miracle of God, I'll laugh in the face of anyone who says it's just a coincidence."  

***

Rachel didn't have any of those weird wants - no cucumbers with chocolate, no honey and chips, no chalk - but her appetite was growing by the day. Because of her cravings, you could go to the store several times a day, only to have her tell you afterwards that she didn't want it anymore. Just like that, you were shoving now unwanted strawberries into the fridge. The container crumpled from the force you exerted, and the walls of it turned scarlet - unable to withstand such violence, the poor strawberry simply burst.

When you heard your sister's mumbling from the couch again, you spread your arms out to the sides with all your fingers together, closed your eyes, and took a couple of deep breaths to catch the slipping calm. You weren't supposed to be angry, Rachel was pregnant. This behavior was normal.

"What the hell ya doing there?" whined Rachel, peering out from behind the back of the couch. "The show's already starting."

"I'm coming," you muttered, slamming the refrigerator door shut. As soon as you sat down on the couch, she immediately laid her head on your lap, not caring at all about the way your legs were going to cramp up. Sighing, you started stroking her red curls, realizing where this was going. "Ya can't sleep on the couch forever. It's bad for your back."

"Back off," she snorted, fidgeting and tugging the blanket over her. "What can I do? Rob stinks."

"What's that he smells like?" you laughed softly.

"How should I know?" she whined for the umpteenth time this week. "He just stinks. I get nauseous around him all the time."

"Ya sure it's about the smell?" you asked casually, smirking eagerly, for which you received a hard slap on the thigh. "Ouch!" Rachel only frowned more at your exclamation and squirmed harder into a ball, not taking her eyes off the TV. "Rach... How did ya even realize ya were pregnant?"

"Well...," she drawled thoughtfully. "I got my period first. When it first start when you're thirteen it's normal, but when you're in your early twenties... I had a real panic attack," she laughed merrily, remembering her flighty state. "I thought I had vaginal cancer or something."

"Rachel," you giggled quietly along with her.

After calming down a bit, she continued. "I went to the doc right away, and he calmed me down, saying I was just menstruating. Only he was looking unkindly at my medical records. Dunno, maybe I imagined it. Just a couple weeks later, I got so sick...," she whimpered, placing a hand on her still growing belly. "I thought I had poisoned myself with something, but Rob kept following me around and insisting to take a pregnancy test. So, it just happened," she pressed her palm harder against her lower abdomen, and she could have sworn she felt another heartbeat even though her common sense screamed that it was too early for that. "Ya think I'll be a good mom?" she asked muffled, almost bashfully.

"Uh...," you drawled surreptitiously, playing with a strand of her hair. "I guess so? Actually, it depends on the kid, too. It's a matter of luck," you shrugged, trying to choose your words. "If it's a gifted child - fine, but if it's not... Well, then ya'll be scrubbing shit off the walls," you giggled, which earned you another hard slap to the knee. "That hurts!" you squeaked.

The fact that she was unaware of it was neither comfort nor relief. The deeper you went into your thoughts, the more your hands shook as if your mind were a labyrinth, its icy walls stretching to the edge of heaven, leaving no way out. You didn't know if you had to do it or if you just wanted to, but it seemed like the best solution.

Toxicosis is a terrible thing. Either a woman eats a lot and then vomits, or she eats nothing at all and still vomits. After a few trips to the bathroom with Rachel, she finally fell asleep. You carefully put a pillow under her head instead of your lap and headed to the second floor.

You didn't spend more than a minute in there. All you had to do was walk as quietly as possible past the sleeping Rob, steal his phone, and carry it into the workroom. Trifling matter, but when you got to the desk, you couldn't bring yourself to plug the phone into the computer. You felt like you were shackled, and the more you resisted, the harder the shackles dug into your skin - a familiar feeling that made you collapse helplessly into the chair.

"Need help?" the suave mechanical voice was like a nudge or just a key to all the chains for you.

"Meg," you addressed the artificial intelligence, finally plugging the cable into the computer. "Find something," you sobbed raggedly, watching as his phone lit up, announcing that the connection had been successful. "Find something that says he had nothing to do with this."

***

Vito looked at you as if you were mentally unstable. Everyone else had left to celebrate the completion of Hopetown, and you were the only one sitting in the kitchen, in absolute silence and total darkness. No garland was lit. No crickets were chirping. No cold wind rushing in.

Doc probably only told you about it because he knew Rob was Kyle's best friend. He wouldn't have been able to judge impartially, and there was no telling which evil would show its face. A desperate attempt at vindication, or a brutal, agonizing murder. "Eh," Vito sighed, wrapping elastic bandages around his legs. "I was born to drink beer, not this stuff," he glanced at you sneakily. "And why aren't ya at the party?"

"I felt sorry for ya," you joked back.

"Come on," Vito said cheerfully. "I bet next year someone else will get a shift on those dates, and I'll make up for it then."

After waiting for him to lace up his boots and put on his mask, you got up and went to see him off. When you got to the training field, the same point from which every voidrunner departed, Vito nodded, and after telling you to drink a bottle of beer for him, disappeared in a purple flash.

You walked around the place where the man had been a few seconds ago, took a dozen steps toward the forest, and turned around, leaving footprints in the snow. The clammy anticipation of the inevitable made your palms sweat. The clouds of vapor coming out of your mouth were jagged, intermittent, but not from the cold, for all you felt was desolation.

You could feel his presence, but you couldn't sense his thoughts or his moods. You ran a hundred excuses in your head for him, but none of them fit. Your gut shook more and more as he approached. Before the purple flash was even born, you covered your eyes with your hand.

Rob didn't look hurt or tired, only frantically shaking something off his sides with his hands, unaware that there was someone standing ten paces behind him. Someone with obvious motives, someone with courage and no sympathy. Perhaps if he'd paid attention to the fresh footprints, he might have been able to do something about it.

"Relocate."

There was no longer a field beneath your feet - it was a scaffold. One of your hands rested on his shoulder, and the other, clutching the dagger, was between his shoulder blades. The dagger cut the flesh silently, so your conscience was silent, too. It was very quiet. No sobs, no whimpering. Only when you twisted the dagger and pulled it sharply from Rob's heart was there a gurgling wheeze.

The man tried to turn around, but he didn't have time - his legs gave up before he could. He fell to his knees, and only after a few long moments, collapsed face first into the ground.

You'd always loved the sight of blood running down a back - a sure sign that the reaper had gone unnoticed. You watched blankly as the scarlet puddle spread beneath Rob, desecrating the pure white color, and you never realized that this was the first murder you'd ever committed that didn't make your hands tremble.

Your world froze, but everything continued to live without your participation. To the songs of the white wind under the northern sky, winter was sweeping everything away. The ground, the cooling body, the sins of the living and the dead. The only thing left untouched and naked were your bloody hands.

There were two persons in the field. One was the best friend, the father, the husband. The other was the one who took it all away. 

It was a sudden revelation that was never meant to be spoken, and Gojo froze in place, trying not to scare you away. You took it in your own way, though you tried not to think about how badly you might have spoiled his attitude toward you by telling him about your past. It was better to keep your mouth shut as it had been, and though Gojo was sometimes angry at you for it, you'd never felt like he was about to leave for good before. "Rob never had time to figure out who killed him, and Rachel never found out what happened to him," you continued to drown yourself, forgetting your sense of self-preservation. "I just told her that he never came back from the void," you were disturbed to your shaking knees by this uncertainty - Gojo still had his arm around your waist but remained motionless, you couldn't even hear his breathing above your ear. "I used to reassure myself that it was best for her, that she'd never know what he'd done or how much Mike's life really cost, but... I guess those were just pathetic excuses for a coward like me. That's all."  

"Look at me," though there was nothing commanding in his tone, his hand tugged at your waist, forcing you to turn around. "A real coward wouldn't have done anything and let it go, but not you," Gojo said, stroking your cheek soothingly. He would have given anything for you to look at him now, to feel how sincere his words were, but you only squinted your eyes harder. "I killed Megumi's father," he admitted on an exhale, and you opened your eyelids. "I'm not seeking for attention, it's just...," Gojo mumbled embarrassedly, but didn't take his palm away from your face. "It would be fair of me to admit something in return. And... Uh, he doesn't know about it either." 

"How come?" 

"It's just happened," he grinned bitterly. "He had a person to kill and I was just in the way. To be honest, he kicked my ass pretty good, but it was that bastard that made me stronger," Gojo sighed wistfully at the recollection that seemed to have faded into oblivion. "I never got to protect that person, though," he added more quietly. 

"But ya've protected many others."

"Exactly!" he brightened, burying his nose in your cheek. "So do you. Don't ever forget that, 'kay?" you nodded your head weakly, but it was enough for him. If need be, he was willing to repeat it every day, and it didn't matter that there was a chance he'd pester you to the point where you'd ban him from the workroom forever. He could have come in through the window anyway.

The annoying feeling of worrying for someone had long ago turned to trepidation, and when Gojo felt you fidget once more, there was no way he could keep another question inside him. "How long ago did you stop sleeping?" your stunned stupor made him chuckle. "It's not like I'm a blind fool. You said you were gonna sleep in the other room, but when you're home, you don't leave the workroom at all." 

You climbed under the blanket and pressed your forehead against his chest. "Ya've reached your limit of questions for today," you muttered sullenly, pouting your lips.

The only reaction he had to your behavior was tenderness. You may not have remembered it, but he'd seen you asleep once. In this very same spot, on this very same couch, which was illuminated by the light from the TV. He remembered covering a restless you with a blanket and sitting next to you all night, pretending to watch cartoons. "Come here," Gojo whispered softly into the top of your head. "Come here," taking advantage of your lack of comprehension, he rolled over onto his back, wrapped both arms around your waist, and laid you on top of him with enviable ease. His arms closed around you in case you decided to run away, even though he realized that if you wanted to disappear, you would. But you remained motionless, leaning your head against his chest. "Try to get some sleep, 'kay?"   

The song of his heart was fast and feverish, but it wasn't annoying. In the timid embrace of such a rare guest as a dream, you heard another melody, unfamiliar one. The longer this melody was played, the more embrace became tender and stronger, but did an ordinary dream know how to embrace like that? 

Gojo hummed softly to himself, hardly saying any words. It was a muffled melody, and he doubted you could hear it. Either way, you began to fidget less and to raise your head less often, looking around the space with a blurred gaze. "Shh," he hushed quietly as you jumped up once more and gently returned your head back to his chest. "It turns out you're snuffling. You knew that?" after all, he had already kissed you once, would it make it worse if he did it again? Gojo didn't remember himself as his lips covered everything they could reach with tender kisses. "My baby," he whispered softly, touching with his lips the spreading black lines on your forehead. "You're so beautiful," he breathlessly babbled nonsense into your blackened hair and smiled foolishly, but his face changed immediately as if someone was trying hard to take you away from him. "I'll always be there for you. I promise."  

You were pushed from side to side as if you weighed nothing, but it wasn't anyone's fault. There were more people in the bar this time, but everyone was still as drunk and happy as ever. When you heard the threatening creak, you unconsciously bounced. An old wooden sign fell where you had just been standing. A cheeky hooting sounded, profanity was heard everywhere, and a bottle smashed against the wall a few feet away. You ducked as if you were in a battlefield and headed for the familiar staircase.

It was still the same fog of cigarette smoke, but it was a lot calmer. Maybe it was the quiet people who gathered here or maybe it was the influence of the sullen-looking bartender. He was still polishing the glasses.

No one was interested in anyone here. When you walked in, not a single head turned in your direction. The people here were happy in their own way, and they didn't care about anyone else. "Sunshine!" a joyful, familiar voice called out to you.

When you looked over, you saw Kyle sitting at a round table. He had a glass of light beer in front of him, and judging by his blissful look, it wasn't his first glass. He was surrounded by painfully familiar faces, but that pain carried with it only surprise. Vito was slyly pouring more alcohol into Kyle's glass, and your brother's shoulder was gripped tightly by a man's hand. Rob sat next to him, encouraging them both.

"Hey guys," you smiled, taking a seat across from them.

"Hey! Why ya sitting so far away?" whined Kyle drunkenly, holding out his arms to you. "Come here!" you looked at this picture through your fingers. Shifting your gaze to Rob, you saw him raise his eyebrows guiltily.  

"I see ya two are best friends again?" you asked snidely, pulling Kyle's beer glass to you. Kyle was drunk, but he was able to focus and send you a questioning look, even though you thought his eyes were about to drift apart.

"All right, lad, let's go bring ya to your senses," Vito announced businesslike, lifting Kyle by the shoulders in one jerk.

"Oh my," you said meaningfully, watching as Vito dragged Kyle's collapsed body on his back. "It's not even a day later, and he's already on a roll."

"He's been looking out for ya all his life," Rob reminded you, laughing. "He's long overdue for a rest," he sighed as the door to the restroom slammed shut behind the men. An awkward silence hung. You had a lot to say to each other, and only one of you needed the courage to start. "Ya mad?" asked Rob quietly, looking into your eyes.

"No," you replied simply, shaking your head and pressing your lips together. "I'm not."

"Ya didn't tell him?" he nodded his head in the direction of the restroom.

"Kyle's not stupid. I think he figured it all out on his own."

"I just...," he began tentatively, and all his movements seemed awkward, embarrassed. Rob scratched the back of his head thoughtfully before continuing. "I just want ya to know. I don't regret anything."

"Yep," you chirped, sipping from Kyle's glass and immediately grimaced. You sighed heavily, wanting as soon as possible to say goodbye forever to the feeling that made your soul clench into a helpless lump. "Me too."

"That's your style," Rob laughed and immediately relaxed. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. "How's... How's my baby boy?"

"Mike is fine. He's nothing like ya," you stated, wrinkling your nose. "Not in looks, not in personality."

"It's for the best," he said, raising his glass as if his words were a toast. Taking a sip from the glass, Rob set it back on the table with a thud. "And how's my wife?"

"She is okay," you lied, shrugging indifferently. "Ya know her. She can handle anything."

"Oh yeah," he drawled meaningfully, stretching and putting his hands on the back of his head. "I never thanked ya," he started laughing softly again, and you realized what he was getting at.

"Kyle brought ya two together, not me," you tried unsuccessfully to remind him, but Rob was already flying in his memories.

"He just gave me her number and some idiotic advice," he waved it off carelessly. "And ya," he literally jabbed his finger at you. "Ya're the one who told me to bring a bouquet of garlic bread and dried squid instead of flowers on our first date," you clucked your tongue and involuntarily hid half your face in your palms, hoping he'd get your sign and not continue. "And how she chased it all with beer, mmm," he thought blissfully, closing his eyes. "I was all gone," he chuckled again. "Here comes our drunk," he announced, nodding toward a sobered Kyle.

He looked like he was being dragged to trial. His face was still wet and red, and he clutched his clenched hands to his chest with all his might. "I'm sorry," he said quietly to you, sitting down next to you. "I forgot myself a little," he stared guiltily at the table, not daring to look you in the eye.

"You deserve it," you reminded him, shoving him gently with your shoulder. Suddenly, on cue, a thought popped into your head as if your mind was a jewelry box and someone had just put a piece of jewelry in there. "By the way, Kyle," you chirped, reaching into your pocket with your hand. You didn't take it with you, you didn't even think about it, so why did you have it? "Ya left something," you said, holding out a silver bracelet to him.

"Oh shit!" worried Kyle, taking the jewelry from your hands and placing it on his wrist. "I thought it was gone forever..."

"Don't lose it anymore," you jokingly chastised him.

"Thank ya," he wrapped his arms around you and began kissing your face, and you wrinkled unhappily at the touch of wet black strands against your skin.

When he was done with his affection, you unceremoniously pushed the beer glass away from him. You decided to stay out of the men's conversations and musings - they'd been gone too long already. You'd heard stories about their first dates, their first fights, and there seemed to be some generational difference between Vito, Kyle and Rob.

Kyle wouldn't be himself if he hadn't noticed your state of mind even in the midst of a cheerful conversation. He could see your desperate gaze circling the bar, searching for someone. "Sunshine...," he began, taking your hand. "I'm sorry, but she's not coming tonight."

"I thought so."

You're just now noticing that there's been music playing in the bar the whole time. Quiet, but energetic. You only realized this because your brother looked playfully into your eyes. "Shall we dance?"

"Kyle, I can't dance," you protested weakly, flinching away.

"Just a twitch, then," he chuckled, taking you under the arm and pulling you from the table.

There wasn't a single person here dancing. Maybe they didn't know it was allowed or maybe they just didn't want to. Either way, no one paid any attention to you. Everything merged in your clumsy movements, and did so tightly that it ceased to exist at all. You forgot what happened yesterday and didn't know what would happen tomorrow, the only thing that mattered to you now was Kyle dancing and laughing right in front of you. He was alive and whole, and no one tore him apart. He still loved and supported you even when you failed.

The two of you, panting and red, Kyle from the exertion and you from the embarrassment, didn't notice as the bar began to empty. People lingered here for a long time, but they left quickly one by one, and now there were empty tables all around you. "Okay, that's it," he put his arm around your shoulders, trying to catch his breath. Kyle saw Rob and Vito already getting ready, slipping their jackets over their shoulders. "Sunshine," he whispered, looking into your eyes confused. "I'm sorry. But we really have to go."

"It's okay," you cheered him up. "I understand everything. Go."

He pulled you hard against him, but at this point, you couldn't feel how much love he actually put into it. "See ya," Kyle whispered into the top of your head, and he could barely pull away from you as if every inch between you was causing him a tremendous amount of pain.

"See ya," you said after him.

The same bartender was still sullenly going about his work as if he had an endless supply of dirty glasses under the bar. When all the door bells rang out, you looked around and realized you were alone in that corner bar again.

The crackle of burning wood in the fireplace and the smell of smoldering timber brought calmness, one of the few states of mind available to them. Not discerning day or night, sun or moon, love or hate, but only pretending to know everything around them, these creatures sat in corners, in shadows, trying to sort out their own affairs. "It's time to stir up the hornet's nest."

Rei reluctantly raised his head. "Hm?" he lazily uttered, examining the ceiling of the room as if the person speaking was sitting there. "If you meant kill them all, there's a different expression for that. You should be around people more often," Rei stuck back into the fashion magazine and slid the whiskey glass closer to him.

"Who has access to the repository with the artifact?" the creature asked, ignoring the barbed remarks.  

"Frank and his kids," Rei replied nonchalantly, admiring the model's sultry skin on one of the pages. He ran his finger across the page. Why instead of a soft smooth texture he didn't feel even a pitiful semblance?

"How fortunate you killed the lad," the creature hissed

"Do I hear sarcasm in your voice?" grinned Ray, looking up again. "Oh, come on," he laughed, grabbing a glass of whiskey, the ice rattling as if it were afraid. "You're the one who advised me to watch out for the redheaded girl. We didn't need the lad. He just got in the way."

"Any luck finding anything out?"

"Nope," Rei muttered, pouting his lips demonstratively. "Her only weaknesses are alcohol and sex. I like her, by the way," a smile slowly formed on his face, and he turned back to the model. Rather, to her sultry skin.

"You can't be entrusted with anything at all," the creature disappointed, and the glass the demon clutched in his hand crackled. The thin glass shattered into hundreds of small shards, but never broke. "We need someone with powers of observation."

Taking a couple deep breaths, Rei came to his senses. "Stop underestimating me. Even if we did have it, the town is protected by relics," he said irritably, carefully setting the glass aside. "They only protect it from demons and dark energy, though. No one said anything about the rest," the indignation was replaced by a mad chuckle so quiet and short it could penetrate anywhere. Under the skin, under the bones, into the heart.

"Is there someone in mind?"

"Yeah, kinda," Rei chirped, wiggling his leg flirtatiously. Maybe he should have done it for nothing because every movement of that body created an rage in him that he couldn't get rid of. The more he spat it out, the harder he let it out, the more it came back to him. There was only one thing that could do it all.

"You're still not happy about something."  

"Give me one good reason why I should stay in this body or I'll change it immediately," he bellowed, tugging on a shirt that was twice his size.

"Have you tried working out?" the voice suggested sincerely and courteously. "They say it builds muscle."

"Why don't I start eating fucking porridge in the morning too?" Rei clenched his teeth in anger, pitching forward.

"You can't change your body right now," the creature warned. The glass, already battered and hitherto standing peaceful on the table, burst. "Your date hasn't happened yet. She needs to see this," there was a huge upside to each creature seeing and hearing what the other creature saw and heard. At least, if it wasn't hiding. Rei moaned quietly, pitifully in pleasure as he saw your image through the prism of the one who spoke to him. "Calm down. It'll be a while yet, but until then... You need to stay in this body. If you hate it so much... I think you could change it a bit."

"That's right," he said cheerfully, taking off his glasses and breaking them in half. Only one small detail remained. Grabbing the shears from the table and going to the mirror, Rei cut off a long black braid in one motion.

next ⊳

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 22nd of September 2023

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 22nd of September, 2023

Question: Does Meghan have blackmail material on King Charles?

Note: The cards in this reading are all upright.

Interpretation: Yes, or at least she thinks she has blackmail material on him.

Card One: The Four of Wands

This is a card of home, family, celebrations, and weddings.

Meghan was a part of the family from her wedding in May 2018 until Megxit in January 2020. That gave her one year and nine months to collect data on members of the BRF, plus the engagement period (Nov 2017 to May 2018), another six months, plus whatever Harry has told her.

The energy of this card is strongly of weddings - weddings and celebrations. It may refer to when Meghan officially became a member of the BRF as per above, but it can also refer to something happening before her wedding or around the time of her wedding that she has information about and that she has carried with her as a type of insurance ever since. The wedding could even have been a payment for her not releasing this material.

What is feeling right energetically is that something happened around the time of her wedding that gave her blackmail material. Saying that it was connected to her wedding doesn't feel as right as saying that it was something that she found when she was snooping around as Harry's  fiancée, and she immediately latched onto it as insurance and kept all the details she could find about it. The idea of using whatever it was as insurance is coming through strongly.

Card Two: The Seven of Swords

This is the thief card, and the energy of this card is of theft. Meghan crept into somewhere where she wasn't supposed to be, like Orestes on the card sneaking into the palace, and she took something that wasn't hers to take. She may have literally snuck onto an area in one of the palaces and taken something from there - something that was lying around on a table? I am seeing a table with papers on it in my mind. She could also have seen something or over heard something that was not for her ears, but she definitely came into the possession of something - some knowledge or item - that was not hers to have.

The other meanings of the Seven of Swords are lies, trickery, cunning, scheming, and so on, and that is definitely the sort of energy that applies to this situation. I think that Meghan saw something or heard something or took something, lied about having seen, heard or taken it, and then used the information to get what she wanted in the short term.

The BRF definitely know that she has this information, in whatever form. The information feels still relevant today, but less relevant than it was when she took or saw it - as if the blackmail value of whatever she took or saw is declining over time.

Card Three: The Tower

The Tower represents a sudden, shocking event that completely destroys part of all of your life, leaving you to rebuild from the rubble. This is the value of whatever it was that Meghan saw or took - or what she thought was the value of the information - something that would completely destroy the BRF if it was released to the public.

This card tells me that Meghan did blackmail the BRF with her information (the sudden, shocking event represented by the Tower). However, I'm not getting 'complete destruction' energy from this card. I'm getting that the BRF were alarmed, yes, and they wanted the information kept quiet/document(s) returned, definitely, but that if Meghan had somehow been able to publish the information it would not have been the complete disaster that she imagined. The BRF would have taken a heavy hit, but they would have recovered and survived. It was not as strong a threat as Meghan thought it was.

The other thing this action did is expose Meghan to the BRF for what she was. Some members saw through her before this, some did not believe she could be this bad, but after she was exposed as the thief and/or the first time she tried blackmail everyone knew exactly what she was and what she was capable of doing. In a way it was a Tower moment for Meghan herself, as she destroyed her standing in the BRF with this action.

Card Four: The Six of Pentacles

This is the card of charity, of giving or receiving material help. Pentacles is the suit of money and status (and other material concerns), and the energy of money is coming through strongly here.

The Six of Pentacles is a card of charity, giving and receiving it. King Charles was involved in several charities as Prince of Wales, and he has had more than one scandal concerning the money side of his charities. It is possible that whatever it was that Meghan saw/took/overheard concerned the finances of one or more charities of the Prince of Wales, and that it showed something unethical or morally wrong was going on with the monies for those charities. This is supported by the preceding two cards: The Tower as a financial card means financial loss, and the Seven of Swords as a financial card means shady business dealings (along with fraud, scams, theft, and so on).

The other energy of this card concerning money was that Meghan was paid off by Prince Charles (as he was then) for whatever information she had collected by dubious means. This is not something that I can say definitely happened, but it is coming across as a strong possibility. If that is the case, any items taken (documents etc) are back in the hands of the BRF, but Meghan still has the knowledge of what she saw/took/heard to hold over King Charles.

I'm referring to King Charles as the one who paid Meghan off and who was implicated by what she found out because that is what I asked in the question.

Card Five: The Hierophant

This is the card for institutions, and in my readings it usually represents the BRF, as it does here. It is also a card of marriage, and as such it echoes the wedding energy of the Four of Wands which started this reading.

The energy of this card is of an institution - the BRF - that has closed ranks against an outside threat. They are still around, still strong, still continuing their work. Meghan may have blackmailed them and stolen from them but she has been unable to bring them down (which is a source of continual frustration to her, just incidentally).

Coming after the Six of Pentacles, this card supports the idea that if Meghan was paid off, it was done by a member of the BRF (I am saying Charles as that is who I asked about).

As a card of marriage, the Hierophant tells me that the BRF is going to be very careful about who marries into it in the future, to try and prevent another Meghan from entering the fold. This fits with the shut off, closed ranks, drawbridge up energy I am getting from this card.

As a card of money, this card tells me that the money of the BRF is safe from any depredations by Meghan. It is a card of literally keeping your money safe. The coffers have been shut and they will not be reopening for Meghan.

Underlying Energy One: The Ten of Pentacles

Underlying Energy Two: The Ten of Swords

Underlying Energy Three: The Ten of Wands

The Ten of Pentacles is the card of family and legacy - being able to provide for your family financially and being able to leave a legacy to your children and grandchildren. In this reading, this card speaks of the legacy of the BRF as an institution - its values, its traditions, and the meaning it holds for the British public.

The energy of the Ten of Swords is betrayal. Meghan stabbed the BRF in the back and betrayed them with her initial theft (seen/heard/documents), and then she stabbed them again when she used that information for short term gains (of course, she then continued to stab the BRF in the back with Megxit, her interviews, and her continual use of PR to both paint them as the worst people ever and to ride on the coattails of their events to keep herself in the news). However, since leaving the BRF, the energy is saying that she has not used what she stole against them. Either she is keeping it in reserve for something, or it has already come out in the media, or no one will believe her or publish whatever this knowledge is.

The Ten of Wands is a card of burden, of carrying a heavy burden that you can not put down. It is also a card of seeing your dreams turn to ash around you. This is the effect of the stolen knowledge on Meghan. Her actions during her betrayal have now become a burden to her because those actions had consequences that she did not like, and the result of those consequences is seeing her dreams of power, influence etc crumble to dust around her.

I've grouped these cards together because they are all Tens. We have three out of the four Ten cards of the tarot here. Tens are final cards, the end of things, cycles coming to a close. Having three of these as the underlying energy tells me that whatever threat Meghan's stolen knowledge was to the BRF, it is currently over. The money and status part of it is closed (Ten of Pentacles), the thoughts of others and the strategy part of it is closed (Ten of Swords), the act of betrayal is over (ditto), and any burden that this was on the BRF, especially with respect to the media, is also closed. The only avenue that is not closed is the Ten of Cups, the happy family card, using family and emotional blackmail to get her way, and I don't expect that to close as long as Meghan stays married to Harry.

Conclusion:

Meghan did have blackmail material on King Charles. Something happened around the time of her wedding or after her wedding, where she snuck into somewhere that she wasn't supposed to be and saw or heard something that she wasn't supposed to know about. It is quite likely that she stole something as well, and then lied about stealing it. Meghan thought that what she had would destroy the BRF completely, but that was not the case. It may have destroyed part of them, but the rest of the institution would rise again and continue. The information is likely to have been about Prince Charles, his charities, and money issues, and it is very likely that Prince Charles paid Meghan off to get back whatever it was that she stole. Meghan did use her information for short term gains but ended up with the BRF closing ranks against her. She may have tried to use the information to destroy the BRF through the media, but the media would not publish the information. This could be because the scandal had already broken.

The value of the information that Meghan stole has declined over time. She has failed to use it to destroy the legacy of the BRF and she has to live with the knowledge that she was not able to actualise her dreams of revenge. She was just not powerful enough. Three out of four avenues to the BRF are now closed to her - wealth and status, reputation, and a media crusade against them. The only avenue she has left to hurt them is through emotions/family, i.e. through Harry.

[dayeongi]

Four years and a day ago, my sister picked me up so we could go to the hospital for news about my father.

I didn't know he was interned. I didn't even know he was that sick. Last thing I heard from his own mouth was that he was recovering from an ear infection and was feeling better.

I'd moved out a few months ago after he tried to beat me up in March because I didnt shower exactly at the time he asked, and after a lifetime of neglect and 18 years of other types of abuse from him and my stepmother. I had tentatively invited him for lunch the Sunday that had just passed.

Yet, I went. And I waited outside for news. At 8 pm the doctor came out to tell us he was refusing intubation but was hanging on.

At midnight, we went back home to sleep.

Next morning, we headed to the hospital at 6 to wait outside again for news. And we waited. The doctor came out. He said we needed to bring them supplies. I hated my father, but I raced down the concrete stairs of the hospital to pick up the supplies from my aunt. She held them out the window of her car, and I snatched them like a purse thief.

By 8:27 am that morning, July 11, 2020,.my father had died.

I had experienced death before. An uncle, family friend, my paternal grandparents, one after another, my own mother. I was familiar with decay, sadness, awkwardness, sunny funerals, the silence of the cemetery around you as the sky collapses on itself, and the world that keeps on moving. Turning, even if you can't stay still.

But somehow it never occurred to me that my father would die that soon, or so young, still in his mid sixties.

I had prepared for every eventuality. How to explain to him I don't want my future children to be much in touch. How I don't want his wife to know them at all. Thinking of moving far away, where he cannot hurt me.

My sister had to repeat this information twice. That he had died, I mean.

She had to confirm that I understood. She cried, and held me, and said "now its just us two, alone." I held her. What was there to accept? He had died. Whether I accepted it or not. I didn't cry much, just a few tears, so she wouldn't get too worried.

They didn't let us see his body, even from afar. The military wanted us a block away. People who lived in front of the hospital opened their homes to us so we could look through the window. They held my sister and I, even though for all they knew, we were dangerous.

It wasn't until his wake, where only us immediate family were allowed to attend, that I finally realized; something is wrong.

My father wouldn't have wanted a funeral like this. He was a devout catholic, for better or for worse (usually for worse). He didn't want to be cremated. He would have wanted a mariachi band, and have a procession with us walkimg after the hearse. He would have wanted the songs that were sung for my grandparents' funerals to be sung for him.

I cried a lot then. Almost to the point of not breathing. To the point of throwing up. To the point where words stopped making sense anymore. I didn't want to get off the car. Then, the opportunity for him to repent, the opportunity for me to have a father would be truly gone forever.

At the time, I didn't know I still relished that hope. I thought it had died, lile a fire put out in a panic, slap after slap. But it smoldered even without my knowledge.

It went out in a blaze of grief, when I held the wooden box that was his urn and I realized, I was holding everything my father had ever been, and everything he could have been, and everything he'd never be, because he'd never be ever again.

There are songs I can't sing now.

[theinquisitxor]

June 2024 Reading Wrap Up

I read six (6) books in June, and was able to get through most of what I wanted to read. I ended up reading several books that all take place in Britain, in a similar time-frame, which was completely coincidental. I read 4 fantasy, 1 historical fiction, and 1 nonfiction.

1.The Magician's Daughter by HG Parry (5 stars) This was a delightful standalone novel that is a coming of age story set in Edwardian era in England. When I first read the blurb about this novel, I thought it was going to be a retelling of The Tempest. It is not-- but it is an original story yet classic in its own way. While I would consider this a 'cozy fantasy' it does have its darker moments. I also really enjoyed the lack of romance in this book.

2 & 3. The Greenhollow Duology by Emily Tesh (4/5 stars) This was my Random TBR Pick for the month of June, which I was very happy about since this duology has been on my tbr since 2020. This was exactly what I was expecting- folkloric, woodsy, queer novellas following fairy lore and mythology. I'm glad I finally picked this up!

4.1177 BC: The Year Civilization Collapsed by Eric H. Cline: this was my nonfiction book for the month, and this book takes a look at how an ancient civilization collapsed, and ushered in the first 'dark age'.

5. The Essex Serpent by Sarah Perry (4/5 stars) I found this to be a very atmospheric period novel set in Essex in the 1890s. This is the type of novel where you can tell the author did a lot of research on the time period, and I felt transported right into the time period. Each character was very distinct and different from each other, and I enjoyed the hint of the fantastic in the novel surrounding the Essex Serpent.

6.The Blade Itself by Joe Abercrombie (3/5 stars) My brother got me the series for my birthday, after he read the books and enjoyed them. I will admit, that this type of fantasy is not necessarily my favorite, but I wanted to give this series a chance. I thought it was fine overall, but I can tell it's not my cup of tea. I have seen things about the second and third books being better than book 1, so I am hoping to continue. Glokta is my favorite and I would start book 2 just for him.

I have also been reading River Horse: A Voyage Across America this month too, but I've only been reading a few chapters at a time. This is a travel narrative about a man who traveled across the US by river. I'm enjoying it so far!

Those are the books I finished this month!

Books I'm hoping to read in July:

The Stardust Thief by Chelsea Abdullah

A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine

Daughter of the Forest by Juliet Marillier

Equal Rites by Terry Pratchett

Thief Mage, Beggar Mage by Cat Hellison

Charmed Life by Diana Wynne Jones

second First Law book by Joe Abercrombie

finish River Horse by William Least Heat-Moon

Most of these I have access to the audiobooks, so I'm hoping to read at least one via audio. I kinda fell off reading audiobook lately, so I want to get back into it.

[heavenboy09]

Happy Birthday To The Hottest And Most Bodacious Geeky Nerdy Bad@$$ Actress of Many Favoritable Movies and Shows of the 21st Century. The Awesome Latina Wonder Woman👩🏾🇵🇷🇨🇺🤎🧡 herself.

She is an American actress. She made her feature-film debut in the 1995 independent drama Kids. Her subsequent film roles include He Got Game (1998), Josie and the Pussycats (2001), Men in Black II (2002), The Rundown (2003), Rent (2005), Sin City (2005), Clerks II (2006), Death Proof (2007), Seven Pounds (2008), Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief (2010), Unstoppable (2010), Zookeeper (2011), Trance (2013), Top Five (2014), Zombieland: Double Tap (2019), and Clerks 3 (2022). Dawson has provided voice-over work for Disney/Marvel, Warner Bros./DC Comics, and ViacomCBS's Nickelodeon unit.

Rosario Dawson was born on May 9, 1979, in New York City. Her mother, Isabel Celeste, is of Puerto Rican, Taíno, Cuban and African ancestry. Isabel was 17 years old when Rosario was born; she never married Rosario's biological father, Patrick C. Harris. When Dawson was a year old, Isabel married Greg Dawson, a construction worker. Isabel and Greg moved into a reclaimed building on East 13th Street after being approved as members of an affordable housing plan. The family later moved to Garland, Texas.

As a child, Dawson made a brief appearance on Sesame Street. At the age of 15, she was discovered on her front-porch step by photographer Larry Clark and Harmony Korine, with Korine deciding that she was perfect for a part he had written in his screenplay for the controversial 1995 film Kids. 

Dawson had several roles in film and television adaptations of comic books. These include Gail in Sin City (2005) and Sin City: A Dame to Kill For (2014), Claire Temple in five of the Marvel Netflix series (2015–2018), and providing the voices of Diana Prince / Wonder Woman in the DC Animated Movie Universe and Space Jam: A New Legacy and Barbara Gordon / Batgirl in The Lego Batman Movie. In 2020, she portrayed Ahsoka Tano in the second season of The Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett, and stars in Disney+ original series Ahsoka. In 2021, she had a recurring role in the Dwayne Johnson autobiographical comedy series Young Rock and a main role in the Hulu miniseries Dopesick.

I always thought she was Afro Latina. Oh well

PLEASE WISH THIS MOST AWESOME & BAD@$$ LATINA AMERICAN ACTRESS OF MANY FORMS OF ENTERTAINMENT & HOT NERD 🤓 🔥

A VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊

YOU KNOW HER

YOU SEEN HER MOVIES 🎥 , TV APPEARANCES 📺 & GEEK OUT ON SUPERHERO FILMS 🎥

& SHE IS STILL RADIANT TO THIS VERY DAY

THE 1 & THE ONLY

MS ROSARIO ISABEL DAWSON👩🏾 🇵🇷🇨🇺🤎🧡

HAPPY 45TH BIRTHDAY 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 TO YOU MS. DAWNSON👩🏾🇵🇷🇨🇺🤎🧡 & HERE'S TO MANY MORE YEARS TO COME

#RosarioDawson

[the-forest-library]

June 2023 Reads

Return of the Thief - Megan Whalen Turner

Moira’s Pen - Megan Whalen Turner

Once More With Feeling - Elissa Susan

Cassandra in Reverse - Holly Smale

Ciao for Now - Kate Bromley

The Happy Life of Isadora Bentley - Courtney Walsh

Same Time Next Summer - Annabel Monaghan

Meet You in the Middle - Devon Daniels

Not Here to Stay Friends - Kaitlyn Hill

What Happens After Midnight - K.L. Walther

The Wishing Game - Meg Shaffer

Some Shall Break - Ellie Marney

Bryony and Roses - T. Kingfisher

As Old As Time - Liz Braswell

Such Sharp Teeth - Rachel Harrison

Jasmine Zumideh Needs a Win - Susan Azim Boyer

Yellowface - R.F. Kuang

Charlotte Illes is Not a Detective - Katie Siegel

Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret - Judy Blume

The Princess and the Grilled Cheese Sandwich - Deya Muniz

She-Hulk, Vol 2: Jen of Hearts - Rainbow Rowell

Happily Ever After - Debbie Tung

Book Love - Debbie Tung

The Worrier’s Guide to Life - Gemma Correll

Cryptid Club - Sarah Andersen

Escargot - Dashiki Slater

Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs - Judi Barrett & Ron Barrett

Hooked - Sutton Foster

Better Living Through Birding - Christian Cooper

Have More Fun - Mandy Arioto

Notes from a Public Typewriter - Michael Gustafson

These Precious Days - Ann Patchett

It Was An Ugly Couch Anyway - Elizabeth Passarella

Dear Girls - Ali Wong 

Where to Start - Mental Health America

The Vegan Week - Gena Hamshaw

Bold = Highly Recommend Italics = Worth It Crossed out = Nope

Thoughts:

I am now in a world with no more Queen’s Thief books to look forward to, but what a marvelous ride it was. This is now one of my favorite series, and I eagerly look forward to whatever Megan Whalen Turner does next. 

Also, I didn’t mean to read two beauty and the beast retellings back-to-back, but it was fun to compare them. The highlight was T. Kingfisher’s Bryony and Roses, which was absolutely lovely. 

Goodreads Goal: 210/400

2017 Reads | 2018 Reads | 2019 Reads | 2020 Reads | 2021 Reads|

2022 Reads | 2023 Reads