#you have chosen to cause me harm and harm a child. This is unforgivable.“

[satisfactionbroughtmeback]

Danny stared at Ra's. Danny stared at the baby. This entire infant and now the second child of his created without his knowledge or consent.

At least this one was young enough to have not suffered as much damage. He had destroyed the first and largest Lazarus Pit a bit under 2 years ago and this child looked maybe a bit under a year. Or just over a year? He had not had enough time to pay attention with attacks happening during the unit for baby care in high school, and he could now say for certain the flour sack had not prepared him for this. Hopefully Frostbite would be able to help because otherwise he had no idea how he was supposed to figure out how to take care of an extremely liminal child not yet capable of expressing its desires.

"Yeah, no. I came here to close the portals and no, creating a baby me will not give you a weapon that will be able to open them again. How long have you even been planning this? And how did you get the material needed? Did you think I wouldn't be coming back to check my work when I noticed Realms energy that shouldn't be there? Just... what the fuck man."

Ra's glowered furiously. "You stole my pits! You had no right! And I will get them back. If it necessitates the creation of a child to remake them, so be it. You left through similar portals after destroying my property! Do not expect me to believe that they cannot be remade!"

Danny held the child closer. It's eyes were wide but they weren't fussing yet, thankfully, despite the shouting. "Portal creation is an extraordinarily difficult and rare ability! Even if you managed to create an exact clone, which this child clearly is not, they would not have been able to recreate those cesspools you were using."

Ra's expression, disconcertingley, lightened. "Maybe not for a being of your limited intellect, but I have worked to remedy the issue. Young Timothy may have refused to be my heir but I have ample genetic material and something with your abilities and his brilliance will no doubt be able to solve the issue. But further discussion is unnecessary. You are correct that the creature you are holding fell short of expectations but my research has found a way to contain your kind and I will be able to make better versions soon enough. Shadows!"

Phantom darted backwards scanning the surroundings as the ninjas he had seen previously at the locations he had been to destroy the faulty connections to the Infinite Realms filled the room. Ritual markings for bindings lit up the walls and floor and Danny was horrified to see one of the individuals kneel at cult leaders feet only for Ra's to slit the man's throat to power the binding. "What the hell are you doing!"

"Containing something that has caused enormous harm to my organization on a degree almost as destructive as the Detective. Fitting that a combination of the two of you will be used to bring it back to, and greater than, it's previous glory!"

The bindings grew stronger and settled into their final configuration. Phantom settled with eerie stillness in the center. Then the shadows cracked around him.. ̸͚̈"̵̨͖̤̓̆͐H̶̦̳̍̈̑ȧ̴̝d̴̩̀̓ ̸̤͕͖̽̌y̸̹̐̈́o̴̼̎̏̚ŭ̷̮̹͌ ̴̧̰͑̇͝a̵̞͑͛͘c̴̡̦͖̚c̵̡̝̯̈́̏ē̷̡͎̣̂p̵͉̻̻̅͒̄ṱ̸̛̮̿e̸̗̱͐d̵͕͊ ̸̟̬̬̋l̷͖̜̹͊́o̴͉̚s̶̲͇͔̓̄͒ȉ̴̭̑̓ͅn̸̯̮̣̅͗͘g̶̢͖̼̐̓̊ ̵̤̙̚ț̷́h̴̪̦̓é̸̪ ̵̘̻̋̋h̶̡̼͉͆ǫ̴̰͗́l̴̡̲̚ď̸̺ ̴̪̼̄͒o̷̖͗̋́f̴͓̳͒̑͜ ̵̣͕̠̾̚ţ̸͗͝h̴͈͗̑͑e̵̡̨̻͝ ̷̫̈́͜Ȋ̷͉̭ͅṉ̶̚f̶̖͖͚̐i̴̪̇̉͠ǹ̵̬í̸͉̐ͅt̶̳̭͋̂ȩ̵̘͒̆̄ ̷̪͒R̴̹̠̩̂̃e̵͎̺͑͠a̴̯̱͂͝ļ̴̮́̂̽m̶̼̬͆̿͌s̵͍̓ ̵͚̆́̚w̴̯͛e̸͓͊́ ̴̠̦̏̿̚w̸̟͗̋o̵̮̐̅û̶̡l̷̡̼͍̐̈́ḋ̷͍̖ ̸̛̣̍̆h̴̻́a̸̽̓͝ͅv̶͉͈̊͆e̸̺͊̈́̿ ̸̺͇͔̅͆̿n̷̻̙̬̾͊̾e̵̙͝v̸̖̘̿̏̚ͅḙ̷̙̭̏r̴̬͓̻̉̔̎ ̵̨͉̽̈́̓ͅn̴̢͎̓͋͝e̶͙͒͒ḛ̸̮̹͒̈d̷̤̯͋͝͝e̵̺̗͗ͅd̷̠̝̜͆͆ ̶̟̹̂͒̈t̵͇͎͋̆o̵̢̠̗͆͝ ̶̧͎͖̋͂m̵̛͔̟é̶̹̮̈́͐e̶̯͑t̶̩̑̏ ̵̇ͅa̵͎̪͔͝g̷̻͗̉͊a̸̫̐̾͝i̸̗̇ņ̸̮̍ ̶̦͈̖̑̉̿ö̶̞́͝ṇ̶͉̰̔ ̴̢̹̭̓̇͠t̵̼̘̑͒͜h̷͓̻̋ͅe̷͕̾̒̉ ̵̳͇̌M̶̙̦͔̉͌o̵̥͎̤̾r̷̯͗̾̕ͅṫ̸̤̈́̈́ä̶̧̻̹́̇ĺ̸̠̭͌̈́͜ ̸͈͛̚P̶͉̩̗̈́̃͌l̸͔̘͎̀͐͗ă̶̠͈̈̈́n̵̞͉̱͘e̷̘̍.̵̼̟̥̽̂̃ ̵̘̘̿U̵̗͐͠ͅn̴͎̊f̶̛̬͙̃o̵̧͎͓͆r̸̯͕͍͌t̸͙̾̈́̎ͅǘ̶͙͎͉̃́ṉ̷̆ͅa̶̖͍̗̔̈͝t̶̨͈͗ę̴̣̌̒l̸͙̹̓y̶̝̰̺̿̂͂,̵̺͍͊͑̀ ̸̭̹̰̃͊̚y̷̺̭͝ö̴̯͚́ų̵̯̱̔͆͝ ̸̰̯̋͊͌h̸̢̪͖͆ā̶̩̣́v̶̳̼̍̾ͅe̵̯̞͆̔ͅ ̷͙͆͋c̷̢̱̺͂h̸̫̐o̸͍͕̓̋̕s̸̲̞͗̉é̵͓̮̀n̸̢̛̜̑͘ ̵̪̞̃͑t̴̪̽́̚ȏ̸̲͙͖̅ ̴̗͎̏͌c̶̗͊̒a̸͉̿ụ̷̋̊͘s̴̪͌͌̀e̸̯̹̾ ̶̞́̒̀m̷͚̓́̍e̷̢̅̀ ̷̟̿ẖ̶̔͝a̸̢̗̪̾̈́r̵͓̳̳͒̌m̵̘̳͓̀̅ ̴̼̚ä̴͙ͅn̶̰̘͇͝d̸̺̞̍́ ̴̝̅̂͠h̵̙͖̆̈́a̶̼͆̐͝ŕ̸̡̤̳m̵͈͔̰͆̈́̽ ̶̳͇̻̑a̶̮̪̓̈́ ̶̳̬̖̓͆c̶̞̈́͑͑h̶̛̖̣̟̀̾î̵̜̤̘l̶͈̱̉̽d̵̝̜̙͗̌.̵̲̍͝ ̶̝̑Ť̴̫̜̮h̷̗̆͗͂i̵̳̋̈́s̷̹͍̑͊ ̴̈��̹̓ỉ̶̯͍s̸̫͋̐͗ ̴̝͍̝̆̿͆u̸̼̺̔́̇n̶̮̣̅̏f̶͕̮̪͂̌̈́o̶̳͉̮͒̃r̷͖̥̈͑̄ǵ̵̤̼̿͐ḭ̸̘̥̄̈́̿v̵͓̏a̶̹͑̐́b̸̨̜͊l̸̙̟͕̓ę̶̀̀.̵̨̆"̶͙̅̿̕

Ice crept from the corners of the room and fractures of green light became apparent as Phantom's form warped, child still held safely against what had been his chest before his being had changed into an ever shifting nebula.

̷̧̛̖̗̜͒͋̉̓̒͑̑̄̓̚̚"̷̤͛͌͐͂̐Y̷̗̱̯̞͔̖̱͍̯̜̣͐̉̓͐̾̓͝o̴̡̡̨̝͓͖̭͓̗̣̮̰̞͚̰̺̿͗̐u̷̢̨̡̬̪̞̟̙̯͖͙̘̲̭͕͋͑̋͝ ̴̢̟̺̦̤͍̭̥̥͕̯̩̥̪̮̥͉̒̇̀́̑͘s̶̜͌̇̈́͂͋̆̅͊̃͌̑̚͝͠͠͠a̵̢̻̭̮͓͙̙̗̩͌c̶̨̡̠̤̞͓̥͖̞̗͙͉͆́́̓̐̈́̓̏́͆̄̄ͅŗ̶̜̳̤̠͇̦̰͕̭̼͙͈̟̹̙̪̓͋͗ì̴̡͈͈̀͐͒̈́̋̽̅f̸̠͓͕͕̼̣̦̲̗̙̰̮̱̙̳̏̔̐̃̈́̎̾̈́͜͜͝͝i̵̧̤̠͖̿͐̑̓̾͂̇͒́́̉̎͗͘͝ͅc̸̢̛̬̳̯̀̋̿̓̏̽͛̔̈͂̎ę̵̈́̀͐d̸̙͐͌͗̈́ ̵̛̳͗̌͆͑̽̿̑̒͗͂̅̕͝s̵̢̛͕̘̯̹̻̰͍͍̠̆́̈́̆̇̔̌̄̏̿͌̀̆͒̈́̊o̴̦̳̘̝͛̓̆̿m̷̥̠͔̻͙͖̖͕͇͈͙̹͉̅̓̐̋̔͗͋̄͑̓͛͗̊̆̕ͅé̶̢̻̖̲͖̈́̎̓͋̉̆̍̍̅̌͊̎͆͜͝o̶̜̅̋̌̏͑̄̎̐̾̇̓͑͌̓̊̌͘͠n̷̛͚͍̥̘̱̲̘̟̲̉̃̿̇̑̓̿͋̊̐́͆͘̕ë̶̢̻̬̙̖̬̪͇̝͇̘̫̙̬͚̪̪͚́͆̃͋̄̈̃̆̌͛̈̊͛͘͝͠͝͝ ̴̢̡̡̛̠̝̩̼͔̩̰̼̦̘̣͍̠͑͐̀͗̎̽͂͘ȉ̷̞͉̳̳̹̏̄̈́͝͝n̴̢̢̧̧̯͙͍̥̹̺̞̭̱̱̽͊̾̈͒͒̽ͅ ̷̳̣̱̳̟̥̎̄̒̔͛́͒̀̉̓̇̕̚͠͝͝a̶̡̢̙̞͈̹̠̜͓͚̠͈̦̰̓͑̌̓̄̋̊̐͑̉̓̀n̷̢̢̧̡̰͉̙̙̤̺̩̟̲̝̱̽͊̄̏͐͒͋͌̀͆̊̎̚͜ ̸̡̜̙͇͔̣̭̝̞̖̈́̀́͑͝ͅạ̷̢̯̙͍̹̦̳̤̫͙͆̽̂͛̌̿̈́̾͐̒͊͑̌̀̒ṱ̶̪͋t̵̛̛͉̭̳͕͉̟̔͂̍̚͜e̴̛͎̟͕̗̣̣̭̣̱͔͓̰̬̐͂̆̇͆̕m̵̡͙̱͎̬̮̠̾̀̈̇̍͂͗̏̋̀̍̍̕͝͝p̸̢͎̲̗̟̞͌̂̒̉̄͆͘̚t̵̡̗̬̲̞̫͈̜̺͍̫͂̆̋̐̑̌͊͊͠ ̶̛͚̜͚̯͔̼̼̍͒̓̓̾́̍̈́͗͌̈́́̄̓̍̕ṫ̵̞̋̈̓̅͆̏̾̓͐͑̓́̑̚͘ö̶̯̤̜̘́̚ ̵͐̈́͒͊͆́̎͒̾̒̚͠͠��̧͉͇̦̤͔̠͉̺̹̝͈̝͙̖c̶̜̝͙͍͙͍͈̬͍̔̔͜ḩ̴͙̬͈̪͈̻͙̻̯̭̲͍̻̤̞͎͎̌͋͂̉̅̓̐̓̀͋͠a̶͉͙͍͈̼͔͎͇̫̫̭̝̪̒̂͝i̶̧̛̠͉̳͎̣͐͐̓̄̓͊̎̓̚͝ņ̸̡̡̛̼͉̲͇̗̄͌̃͗́͆̒̎̋̌̕͘͝ ̵̢̘̼͓̤͕͔̦͍̱̞̝͎̮̬̥̠̈́̏̈́̾͂̚̕m̵̢̧̜̤̦͒̈̈́̅͒̌̓͒̓͜ȩ̴̨̢͚̥̘͉̲͉̙͇̮̳̰̦̱̔͜ ̷̛̼̪̮͉̰̰́̋̋̈̍̆̈̽͗̕a̵̩͓̯̤̼͉̰̦͍͔̻͔͋́͒̾̒͒̂ń̴̻̩̳̙̼̝̄̊̃͒̇͆ͅḑ̶̢̢̛͍̞͉̘̬̜͕̪̟͉̲̬̼̥̟͗̔͊͋̄̂͊̾̍̂́̿̃͘͝ ̶̳͉̬͍̮͓̟̹͌̃̽̾̀̏̑͛̈͝î̵̝̣̝̼̠̱̅͋͘̚͝t̶̢̰̲̼̩̬͕̗̘̺̑̏͂̆͐͂̄͂̚͝ ̷̼̄̂͗̆̉͂̿͊̉̓̈̑͆͂͋̚w̴̘̮̲͎̝͇̠̗̫͎͓̣̙͋̄͒̔́̏́̈́̈́̓̔̂̉̿͒͘͝ͅȁ̷̧̢̡͔̼͍̺̱͈͉͚̹͉̈́̓͑͂̑̓́͂̅͗̿̌͝ͅs̴̨̛͎̭̦̯̜̻͔͔̈́̓͋̆̇͗̃̽͑̅́̚ͅ ̷͎͕̲̤͔̬͖͎̙̎̓͋p̵͖̃̆̂̔͋̎̏͌͠͝ǫ̸̧̰͚̰͍̗̺̞̣̒͊͛̉̀͋̃̄͆̓̐͑͑͝͝i̶̢̼̱͙̱̘̘̠̣͚̙͙͙̤̙͕̻͍͊̂͌n̴̢̻̰̜͇͚̝̂̏͜͜͜ẗ̸̡͓̰͔͍͈͔͙̦͖̩́̽ļ̸̧̢̛̻̣͖̤̃͋̀͋̇e̸̡͍̰̹̯̱̯̫̹̼̹͍͗͆͒̚ș̷̊̀̽͒̌̋͂̔͛́͌͂̾ș̷̦͔̘̀̓́͂́̉͑͋́̃́͘͜ͅͅ!̴͍̜̤͎̯̠̥͙̀̈̿̿̈́̽̊͝"̵̭̻͑̉͑

Phantom's voice could no longer be considered human. It crackled like electricity. Like ice breaking. Like the sun as it burned.

"̴̥̞̘̠͉̠̬̞̗̻̝̫̥̘͔̟̣̪̫͈̘̟͈̯̺̞̎͋̐̌̽͗̓̽̀̕͝I̵̡̨̧̪̗̳̬̠̫̱͍̝̬̝̗̥̗͕̯͇͆̏͑̈́ ̶̝̥͕͔̫̪̳̥̜̠̘̫̹͇̋w̸̧̮̣̙͚͓̦͖͙̘̼͉͔̼̜̭̗̣͉̲̜͈̘͊̈̈̓́͊̔̕͜͜ͅi̵̢̢̲̼̭͙͙̥̪͔̣̭̥̤̤̠̯̩̭̗̭̠̳̘̤͙̇̃̒̏͜ͅͅl̴̡̡̢̳̘̖̟̻̥̲̤̼̬̫̺͎̣̗̭͉̩͍̱̞̼̈͊̒͂̑̐̽̂͗̍̈̐̚͘͜͜͠ľ̵̛͇͙̭̪͍̱̬̒̈̓̔͗̏̐̈́̎̋̈́́̓͐̽̈̄̅͘͘̕̕͝͝͝͝͠ ̸̡̡̠̼̤̯͙̳̣̤̼̰̗̣͗̽͊̓̑̾̈͂̐̾̅̚͘͠b̵̨̨̡̛̫͕̮̘̣̺̳̖̠̜̻̠̗̘̖̭̯̳͙̫̱̪̱̺̥̟͙̻̗̲̓̌̓̆̀́́̿͒̾͋̋́̽̊̀͌̈́̒̅̆̓͛̊͗̃͂̚͝͝͠͝͝ͅȩ̷̧͉͍̼͉̙̘͓̯̻̻̣̤̣̩̗̹̬̙̪̺̼͊̓͋́̈̊̑̒͛̔̾̐͑̊̂̕̕͜͝͠͝͝ ̷̛̮̠̜̼̌͌̏̀͐͛́̌̊̉̅́̈̓̏͝͠b̴̛͇̮̈́͂̅̍͛͑̆̅̆̂̄̈͛̅̄͌̂̂͝͝͠͠ͅ��̥̥̣̯̫̻̞̙̟̼̹̞͜ą̴̛͍̳̰̰̩͓͇͕̳̠̭̠̜̦͂̊͊̏͐̀̓̇͝ĉ̵̠̰̣͈̘̰̞͈͎̙̖̖̰̬̬̪͐̈́̾͆͋͂̊̂̀̍̈́̏k̴̡̨͉̪͔͎̼̳̖͈̥̝̺̟̝̭̩̮̣̳̼̻̮̹͗̈́̔́̿͛̂͐̓̒̊͝͝͝͠.̶̢̨̫͚͔͖̩͚̖̱̱̣͓̳͖̗̞͎̬̳̬͒"̵̢̢̛̙̦̝̘̣̳̖̤̯͖̜͖̙͓͖̤̹̹̖̎͛̽̇͊́̊̒̏̀̀͊̑̌̈̌̅͐̒̄͛͌̒̀͒͋́̐̑̈́̕͜͝͝ͅ

A portal opened behind him and the ritual shattered, room breaking around it.

The portal closed leaving nothing but rubble behind.

Project R au except Danny is not the clone.

Instead Danny gets Ras Al Ghuls attention after overhearing that the baby in the tube was made from a bunch of "Robins/detectives" and a little of Phantom himself and looks the guy in the eye before using his intangibility to grab the baby-still not breaking eye contact- and saying, "Mine now." before disappearing.

Danny comes home and explains the situation to his sister and parents and they welcome the new baby into the family with open arms. When asked why they took dna from Danny, Jack immediately jumped in with, "Because we're Fentons!" As if that was all the reason needed.

Elsewhere Ras tells the bats about the clonenapping, conveniently leaving out the part about Phantom also being one of the babys dads. The bats go a little crazy trying to find out where thier baby is and why some no name villian (cause thats what they believe he is due to what little media coverage Amity Park has on him) wants with thier baby.

Then they learn about the ghost thing and then the research. At first they didn't believe it because they had dealt with ghosts before and they were nothing like that. But the more they looked the more they realized these weren't the kind of ghosts they were used to...

[water-to-drink]

How Does That Grab You?

(A/n): My first Genshin fanfic, please tell me what you think. I wrote this while I had a pretty bad headache so if anything is wrong, I’m sorry for that

Days where Childe would be chosen by the Creator were always the highlight of his week. Didn’t matter if the tasks he performed were major as clearing a domain or as insignificant as collecting berries, as long as he get to bask in your divine presence.

Joy filled the young man as you chose him, nearly bouncing in excitement as he neared a hilichurl camp. He moved at your command as he started to clear out the camp.

Childe almost didn’t notice the music that began to fill his ears. Not that he minded the music, but this music seemed not as preppy as the music you’d played before. That was until he heard a voice.

The lyrics seemed innocent at first, getting to hear about you, his Creator when you were a child excited the harbinger at first.

“He would always win the fight

Bang bang, he shot me down

Bang bang, I hit the ground

Bang bang, that awful sound

Bang bang, my baby shot me down”

Childe’s heart sunk. He wanted to believe that this was a friendly sparring match between you and a lover, but he couldn’t lie to himself like that.

His Creator potentially getting injured due to your lover caused fury to start to boil up in him. There must’ve been a reason for this, for the divine Creator to be.

“Now he’s gone, I don’t know why

And till this day, sometimes I cry

He didn’t even say goodbye

He didn’t take the time to lie.”

Now rage threatened to consume him, he could barely aim his arrow with how his hands were shaking.

Harming the Creator was already an unforgivable sin one could commit, but to have the audacity to abandon you afterwards without a single word spoken was something inconceivable.

As the last hilichurl fell and dispersed into a black mist Childe’s anger still remained. It was no use, no matter how many monsters he would kill the anger would still plague him.

The anger turned to frustration. Frustration that he couldn’t track this person down and have them beg for mercy, and frustration at he couldn’t be there to comfort you.

He hopes someday you would descend to Tevyat, a place where no one would dream of doing anything that could bring you harm.

Yet he can only dream, with you and him being worlds apart?

[kendrixtermina]

You know, I may not agree with Hamas, but I can understand them.

I get how injustice and humiliation can lead to anger and violence. I may have chosen not to act on it, but I know the emotion of wishing harm upon those that hurt you. I know what it is to wish death on abusers and bullies, even though nothing I experienced comes even NEAR what people in gaza suffer.

But those people who make mocking videos on Israeli TikTok?

In a way, those are like me - living in a rich, orderly country - , and that is why they're unforgivable to me.

All this has made me hyper-conscious of how lucky I am to have food, safety, medicine, water, good education, rights etc. and more than that, my family, warm and alive. What this makes me feel is shame & anger at the injustice, gratitude & appreciation for what I have, and most of all compassion and frustration - I have water here in my hand that people in palestine need so badly and I can't give it to them because our leaders are corrupt and don't represent us. I also feel grief, because while you could give the people water right now if Joe Biden wasn't an idiot and a coward, no one can give back dead family members.

What twisted things must someone believe, to see those same images of people lacking everything you enjoy, and LAUGH at them?!

I know there is state propaganda, but still. A dead child is a dead child. Not cause for glee. Many Israelis grew up with the same propaganda and are against this carnage. So WTF?! Are they on cocaine?

How distorted is your thinking that you no longer react with compassion to grieving parents weeping?

[luxmaeastra]

He exhaled and moved toward Yuza. The music slamming into him made his knees buckle.

"Yuza she's gone. She -"

"No! No she isn't!"

This cave was horrible. Bits of bones and fae bodies in the corner. He remembered Yuza, a Stelari who was as charming as he was vicious. He assumed he'd found a way to drag Ix's body away.

But she wasn't getting better. And fae were going missing. If this kept up the High Lords would have to take action. He was shocked Summer hadn't already.

But then Yuza had chosen lesser fae so that explained it. He looked to Yuza's latest victim. One of Ilyios children. A young one by the looks of it. He was chained and his blood was being slowly siphoned away.

He looked back to Yuza. His body was skeletal and he could see Ix's body mostly hidden by the gloom of the cave. If she was conscious this was a prison.

He exhaled and hefted his sword.

"I'm sorry. I am only getting involved for Ix. Let me take her. Perhaps we could -"

"You work for the fae! You are their dog. No. No she is safe here. She -"

He lunged his claws aiming for his teeth. He knocked the sword from his hand and throw him to the ground. The child whimpered in the corner straining to get free.

//for Illyios and Silba!! Millenia after Cassandra and the "deaths" of Silba sisters?//

Power pulsed through the cave, her eyes burned with the power within her as it continued to grow with each and every moment. the fact that Yuza had lashed out, he attacked was unforgivable.

Before all this, before he had become a creature in the cave that filled many's nightmares, she had once admired him. A fine Stelari who was loyal, one who would always continue to fight on it seem.

Silba moved inside, behind her Illyios was not far behind. She knew he would prefer to handle this, she knew he would want redemption for what had happened to his son.

"Take your son Illyios, I will handle this and I promise no more shall happen." With that she moved forwards, using her powers as a means to contain Yuza from causing any more harm.

"Enough Yuza, Ix is gone. She is dead. There is no light left in her...I'm sorry..."

Illyios quietly moved towards where his son was, it did not take him long to make good work of the chains. All the time he was working he looked over his son, making sure he was not harmed more than he should have been.

"Come, we are leaving. Your mother is worried."

[starbuckaroo]

I watched/rewatched 6.10&6.11 and I felt like I was watching some kind of freaky nightmare alternate reality version of this show even before the coma buck schtick.

And it ties in with the one scene in 6A that still gets under my skin and still feels unearned and unforgivable: the phone call between Eddie and Ramón.

So far s6 seems to be the season of OOC abusive parents, abused children being coerced one way or another to invite said parents back into their lives, and in 2/3 cases fairly specifically because of the grandchildren involved.

My mom said of 6.10&6.11 “it feels like an abused child’s warped fantasy of reconciliation, like if I finally just apologize or say or do the right thing, my parents will suddenly change and love me the way they’re supposed to/I’ve always wanted” and she was right. And it’s fucked up.

Listen, I’m in my thirties, I come from a multigenerational line of abused children, many of whom are also abusers, and I understand decently well that 1) change and growth are possible, 2) reconciliation and moving on are possible and even desirable in some cases and 3) every family is different and the dynamics involved are complex and have a big impact on why people make the choices they do regarding contact with abusive/harmful relatives (esp parents).

AND I also know that for me, a hard and unshakeable foundation of this is that the person who caused the harm needs to AT THE VERY LEAST acknowledge the harm, and preferably also express remorse and make some sort of apology. I know many times those apologies aren’t actually very good, or satisfying, but being validated that you were hurt is a huge and necessary step that has to happen BEFORE you can move into reconciliation, into building bridges and new relationship foundations. Sometimes they don’t give a very good apology, but the fact that they know they hurt you and are going to put forth some sort of effort not to do it again is enough to have contact. What you’re willing to adjust your boundaries about is a personal and situational thing.

This IS related to 911 because this show is fucking atrocious at this and I personal find it incredibly upsetting and given the way they dealt with s6 it’s tipped over into being triggering for me. So yeah I know I’m having a bit of an overreaction, but I haven’t seen anyone discussing this and so here I am.

Bc listen, in s4 when the Buckley parents show up at the fire house, they never actually apologize for the way they hurt Buck. They make excuses for their behavior but that’s not even in the realm of the same thing.

And look! That’s what they did with Abby as well!! She shows up in s3 and wants to see Buck and yet??? does she EVER actually apologize for ghosting him? No! She just makes excuses. It’s fucking gross. But that’s okay! Neither Abby nor the Buckley parents needed to be in Buck’s life! The show was fairly clear about that, and so the fact that those people did him wrong was just a Thing that Happened, but Buck had his chosen family and his career he was building and he made meaning there.

But enter s6, when suddenly the Buckley parents have been replaced by pod people WITH NO EXPLANATION????? And it visibly disturbs all of them, Maddie and Chim and Buck. All three of them *expect* more shitty behavior and when it doesn’t happen, they get confused. And later on Buck even says something along the lines of “oh they definitely didn’t approve [of the sperm donor thing], but they wanted to save face/have the upper hand against Mr. Han.” So he’s aware of it??

And yet. Man. What am I missing? Because the takeaway from his coma was that he what??? Says “I know you did the best you could and I love you anyways”????? and sure that’s what he says to his parents in his head but that by itself is fucking weird. But then after that he just…lets them come into his apartment and play act at being interested in his life, redecorate, Watch The Game, etc.

God it was so strange and out of character and just. It was just freaky.

It’s how I feel about the phone call between Eddie and Ramón in 6A. NOT because I’m against Eddie having some reconciliation with his father, or against him trying to rebuild something. But the fact is that the big talk he had with Ramón at the end of s5? They just addressed Eddie’s childhood, they didn’t go anywhere near any of the hurtful things that he and Helena said and did to Eddie as an adult!! When the issue was not longer about Ramón being absent, but was about them disapproving of his choices (wrt Shannon and then Chris) and actively trying to change the way he parents or take away his parental rights altogether.

And so what gets me so fuckin riled up about the phone call is that Eddie doesn’t just call to check in, or have a heart to heart or whatever to establish that he’s been working on things with his dad. No. He fucking calls his father to ask for PARENTING ADVICE.

Like no no no sorry no, it’s like a fucking fundamental character trait of Eddie’s, that he is a very protective and caring, loving father. He doesn’t always know what to do or how to achieve what he wants for Chris, but one of my favorite things about him were the hard fucking boundaries he set with his parents regarding Chris! They said “don’t drag him down with you” and in response, he fucking moved out of state because he recognized the threat! And I’m now actually fully vindicated with that because at least from Buck’s coma perspective, Eddie could have ended up in a nasty custody battle and lost! He was fucking RIGHT to put up those boundaries!

So having the very first convo we get to see between Eddie and Ramón be a request for help with Chris? It felt out of character and regressive and toxic.

I just feel like this season, the show can’t decide if it’s more important to “let” children have relationships with their blood relatives because what??? they’re “supposed” to???????

Or if they’re gonna keep going with the foundation they’ve built for all their characters over the last five fucking seasons, emphasizing the importance of chosen family, of putting in the work, of being in the mess with those you love and putting things back together as a team, of showing your care and respect for your loved ones by seeing them for who they are and loving and appreciating them where they’re at!

Like….you can’t actually have both those things, not unless those blood relatives accept the yoke of the chosen family rules and learn some humility and respect of their own. And this show is 0 for 3 when it comes to parents acknowledging the ways they’ve hurt their children RECENTLY. Like I’m NOT EVEN TALKING ABOUT ANY TRAUMA OR ABUSE THEY ENDURED AS CHILDREN. All three of Eddie, Chim and Buck have had terrible things said and/or done to them by their parents as adults ON THE SHOW. Where the FUCK are their apologies for that???

My only concession here is that esp w Chim’s dad (and to a smaller extent w Eddie’s dad) there are cross cultural complexities that I don’t fully grasp and can’t speak to. I still don’t think a small acknowledgement of the hurt caused is too much to expect, but I also admit to not knowing enough to say for sure. At least with Chim, he had on the one hand Hen encouraging him to talk to his dad FOR HIMSELF, to help himself get some closure, NOT as an attempt at reconciliation necessarily, bc she recognized that Chim can’t control how his dad responds, but as a step forward towards any kind of future with any number of different possibilities (she did NOT push him to do so for Jee’s sake, which I think is an important detail to remember); and on the other hand Chim also had Albert to deal with, which imho wasn’t dealt with very well, but IS a realistic complexity within families, particularly when siblings are either very far apart in age and/or have only one parent in common. Albert’s experience of their father was fundamentally different than Chim’s, and that was addressed in an earlier episode even! And so I think it was shitty but at least believable and in character for Albert to be a little manipulative like that and show up w his parents and pressure Chim into reconciliation. I’ve literally seen that happen within my own family. So like, as much as Chim shouldn’t have had to deal w that, his storyline was the most realistic/believable.

But like. Listen. With Chim and Maddie, and with Eddie; the thing I do NOT understand is that all three of them were hurt by their parents…what about that experience makes them feel like either their parents are owed a relationship with their child, or that their child should have or needs to have their blood relation grandparents in their lives???? Make it make sense!!! Jee already HAS grandparents with the Lees! (And lbr Chris very nearly has g-pa Bobby)

I just. These competing messages are fucking with me and they completely soured the lightning strike/coma buck storylines for me. Maybe I’ll feel differently later, maybe not. I spent the entire hiatus trying to get over the Eddie and Ramón phone call and didn’t manage it. It’s a very personal and very serious issue for me, and like. Listen…if my mom hadn’t protected me from her parents, if I had had to have forced interactions with them like that…I almost certainly would have been abused as a small child by one if not both of my grandparents. And they might have fought for custody of me, and they might have won, given that my mom was a single parent. This shit is very real! And like, I am also fully aware of how my mom has worked to have some semblance of a relationship with her mother, though it took a couple decades, but she has also never once attempted to communicate with her father. Like there’s forgiveness, and then there’s recklessness. And I’m not saying that the elder generation on 911 has done any of the same types of abuses that happened in my family, but I am saying that any type of abuse SHOULD warrant caution, and boundaries, and these characters have come far enough to demonstrate a tiny amount of fucking self-respect enough to demand some show of remorse and acknowledgment of wrongdoing! And they didn’t get any of that! It’s fucked!!!!!

[honorhearted]

It took Benjamin a long moment to realize that the frantic thrum-thrum-thrum was not a snare drum, but his own pulse, wild and erratic like a songbird darting within its cage. His breath grew tight and painful, almost too much for his ribs, and as Beth tilted her chin, he felt a sense of sin upon noting the curve of her neck, the flicker of her own heartbeat as the stretch of earth between them suddenly became far too close.

"Know your place," Benjamin warned. Her implications hurt him -- that he was far too foolish to take note of even the slightest change in his own regiment; and yet, he also knew she was right. He didn't have the time nor the resources to appraise every new recruit in camp, and with as slight and stealthy as Beth had proven herself, she could easily disappear beneath the layers of Continental blue.

Delicate?

Again and again, Beth sliced him open with her words, striking him akin to a desperate rat trapped in a corner. His mouth opened and closed, soundless as humiliation burned within his chest like a furnace, the heat of his wounded fury blooming up towards his cheeks and staining them red. The most unforgivable offense of all, however, was he could feel his eyes stinging and growing wet -- he was not a child any longer, goddammit; he did not cry! -- and yet somehow, her words transported him back to a time when he was a boy...when it was okay to fall at her feet and bury his face into her lap and weep, lament, curse for the things he'd lost -- and in many ways, for the things he would never truly be.

But before he could think to apologize -- I'm sorry, Beth, you were right; God, please forgive me! -- she curled her lip and drove in the fatal blow: "I have known you since we were children and I would never so easily speak your frailty to your face. But I do thank you ever so profoundly for dislodging me of the idea I might want the yoke of matrimony, or that I would have chosen you."

All at once, an icy heat grappled inside his chest, causing him to reach out and seize her face between his palms. Benjamin held on tight, panting to the point of dizziness as he forced their eyes to remain deadlocked in an unyielding dance. He'd seen a flicker of doubt in their depths, an uncertainty, and in that moment, he preyed upon it, guiding, seeking, begging as he slumped forward and edged their foreheads into a haphazard press.

"I know you, Elizabeth Riley, and you don't hate me," he hissed. "It isn't in your capacity to hate, just as it isn't in mine to stand idly by and let you harm yourself over your injured pride!"

Her breath fanned out across his mouth, scorching him, and despite the biting cold stabbing throughout his boots, he felt unspeakably hot as his gloved fingers wove through her hair and tugged, the intimacy of his bottom lip grazing her upper stoking the fire in his chest to the point of agony.

Despite their baffling test of wills, Beth sneered at him. "I would sooner crawl through shattered crockery."

The words exploded between them akin to shrapnel. The proverbial blade he wielded suddenly shifted into her own hand, and he jerked once she stuck him with the sharp end of her words, needling him, wounding him as he broke away with a soft growl.

"Dammit, Beth!" he snarled. "Just what do you expect me to do?" He spun away from her then, humiliated and no longer able to take her eyes on him. What had he done? What in God's name was the matter with him?

For just one moment, he genuinely believed he hated her. He hadn't felt this helpless, this out of control since the Delaware, and he'd be damned if he allowed this spoiled, tiny slip of a girl to bring him to his knees.

Trembling, Benjamin steeled his shoulders and straightened once more, affecting nonchalance. "I'll send for one of the officers' wives," he decided. "If you do not wish for my help -- if you do not wish to adhere to my suggestions -- then I will leave you at the mercy of your own stubbornness."

An unbearable silence swelled within the air, followed by a vicious retort in Beth's native tongue.

Throat bobbing, Benjamin lowered his eyes and exhaled. "I love Andy," he softly ventured, "and for some unfathomable reason, I feel the same for you...and if that is too big a cross to bear, then I will keep my distance."

But no -- it wasn't the same at all -- what he felt for Andrew was warm, pure, fraternal, while what ensnared him for Beth was harsh, angry, all-consuming, and just a little bit terrifying.

She can hear exasperation starting to shade the edges of his voice when he breathes her name. Which only then feeds the self-righteousness that continues to harden her jaws. Especially when he continues to ridiculously hunch down into the snow as if he thinks she has no senses of her own, and cannot see the flaws of logic that are as blatant as the cold around them. She shivers into her cloak. It is then he chooses to grace her with his visage although there's a growing sense of ill-ease around him. Then comes the threat and she doesn't know which seems the less horrific to her regardless of whether he calls her name softly. A portion of her urges concession; while it's frigid the pain is dull but when her ankle starts to swell… then there's another portion of her that refuses to soften her spine and acquiesce. Her dismissal earns reprisal and this Ben? This is the one she doesn't recognise. The way his footsteps plant into the earth, he suddenly becomes Goliath. Thunder clouds his features and his eyes are swords. She has neither sling nor stone and is no child of David. She stares into his face with the widest of eyes. Lips parted and thick sooty lashes reaching for her brows. She would have taken a step backwards if she could have taken one at all. She can now see the soldier in place of the boy ~the man~ she has always adored. At first she can hear Andy alive and speaking through their friend. Telling her that she is too headstrong. That their father has indulged her entirely too much and made her unsuitable for any of the delicate pursuits of keeping home and hearth. Then he becomes himself again and speaks of his camp. His commander. As if she is a common soldier who has broken ranks, his fidelity to the Cause. Wounds her heart with talk of servants. She does not keep hers by chains and cruelty. She takes a breath to speak and he smothers it by stepping closer; she can smell wood-smoke on the wool of his coat. A hint of his shaving soap. Something that reminds her of tea and honey on the ghost of his own breath. It coalesces in the back of her throat and sinks down into her lungs kindling a warmth that cannot come from the air around them no matter how close the snow-bound branches might be. She's never heard him blaspheme before and she cranes her neck back on instinct but she otherwise doesn't move. Instead she merely scours his face fast racing gaze. Pulse pounding in her throat enough that he might see it and the red wash through pale skin all the brighter now. "I supplanted my will to yours in coming here, as I am and not what I could have been. Had I been left to my own device? I could have paraded under your nose as a message boy or a drummer and you would never have even noticed me, Benjamin! However, I clearly have committed some great offense to your delicate sensibilities to make you think of what a great punishment it is to have me underfoot. And while I see no regiment of swooning ladies flaunting handkerchiefs in your direction, you could do far worse than to wed me. I am somewhat autonomous, nobly bred, and will eventually inherit a fortune that even your precious Commander cannot dream of, in all of Man's avarice. More than that? I have known you since we were children and I would never so easily speak your frailty to your face. But I do thank you ever so profoundly for dislodging me of the idea I might want the yoke of matrimony, or that I would have chosen you."

Her shoe? Her stocking? They could rot for all she cared in the moment. She chooses instead to dwell in the shame and hurt that burns through her like wildfire. "I would sooner crawl through shattered crockery." She puts her injured leg down, tips of her toes sinking into the snow. The cold and the shock of pain hisses through her clenched teeth and her entire frame quivers for a moment as she casts her gaze down to find a suitable branch. "Go n-ithe an cat thú is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat."

[defiantsuggestions]

One of the most infuriating arguments for "you need to respect your parents! :) " I've ever heard came from one of those assholes who has no idea what they're talking about, who looked me in the eye and said, "well, no matter how bad they were, you wouldn't be here without them, so you need to respect them for that."

And I just? Holy shit?? This is part of the fucking problem. This mindset is why parents think they own their kids. This is why parents think they should be worshiped for no other reason except that they're parents. This is why parents think they can get away with anything no matter how much harm it causes.

They didn't do me a favor by having me.

They did not do me a favor by having me. I did not consent to life. I did not agree to be born. I did not choose to be brought up by people who would torture me for multiple decades.

I spent most of those multiple decades suffering and in pain. I have been left with trauma that I have to cope with now. The entire rest of my life will be spent trying to salvage myself from my parent's abuse.

But I'm supposed to be grateful to them because I exist.

Because mere existance is enough of a gift that half a lifetime of torture means nothing and I should be grateful that I was brought into this world by assholes that didn't give a shit about me.

Fuck that. Fuck the notion that parents are owed for their child's existance. I would not have chosen to be born. I would not have accepted the condition that my existence would mean decades of abuse.

What my parents did is unforgivable. I deserved more than mere existance. I deserved not to be abused. I deserved to be raised by good parents. I deserved to be given the tools I needed to grow and succeed. I deserved a happy childhood.

I deserved not to live my life in constant terror.

They owed me that.

And they failed.

[kaetastic]

Where Have You Been? 2

pairing: Harry Potter x Slytherin!Potter!Aunt!Reader (no incest- just aunt and nephew battlin’ through evil :)), (possible future evolution to pairing with Sirius Black)

summary: After years blinded from the tainted power and lies, Y/N Potter finally sees the truth. The truth that urged her to clamber out of the hole created by the Dark Lord. Will young year-2 Harry accept the absence of an aunty he didn’t even know he had? 

word count: 4.8k

warning: fluff, heavy angst, guilt, mentions of death

note: lately, i haven’t found myself writing as much, i don’t think it’s w****r’s b***k, it’s just me being distracted by so many other things lmao. thank you for waiting this long for the second part, i’m pretty sure there’ll be a third :)) there’s no harry in this but i wanted to keep the pairing consistent

Harry was just a thirteen-year-old boy. He was a young wizard, trapped in the walls of muggles who wished they had nothing to do with his kind. There was no other safe place for the boy. If Y/N had not fallen into the rabbit hole that branded the mark on her arm, maybe she had the chance to keep her nephew with her. Y/N could do nothing about it. Despite her ideas of getting him out of that suffocating house, to finally enjoy the presence of someone she shared her blood with, to show him what magic truly was, she knew it would only place great danger onto him. Her life which had slanted down like that anticipated, fingers-digging-into-the-railing part of a roller coaster had gone from a flowery childhood to having no other alive family member if Harry was to be excluded. 

If the time she had been on the run was to be calculated, it would’ve roughly been thirteen years. Thirteen years of shifting houses to houses. Although, one year, she had feared for the loyal followers to be sent to capture her, the rest twelve, she had to constantly check over her shoulders for a sign of Aurors who were on a mission to chuck every last death eater into Azkaban. Y/N hoped the day where she would not have to leave a bed to enter a new one would come. The witch didn’t mind if it was sooner than said, it would be nice to open windows to the scorching sun with a cup of warm tea in her hands. It would be nice to walk on open streets without a heavy, ominous clock over her head. It would be nice to walk on the streets, not pathways that had been littered with spit. 

Although, the sweet victory taste she had dreamed for had turned bitter, acidic to her tongue as if those scenarios she wondered on for hours had been nothing but bait, a tease. The Privet Drive might’ve not been the best place for Harry, but it was the safest for the boy. Well, safer than going on the run with his aunt who had to keep glancing over her shoulders in case a shadow scurried after her. 

Even though the wizard had suggested he could follow her since she had magical blood, just like him, the witch had no choice but to turn him down. Even the frown on his face had embedded itself in her memories. The disappointment at the rejection of a better life with the sister of his father had plagued Harry’s time at school. Not before Y/N told him to not mention their meeting to a single soul. It might’ve been hard for the young boy, but he somehow managed… well, apart from his two other friends he had found a strong connection with. Harry had mentioned the name Hermione and Ron during the heart-aching conversation of the early morning in his bedroom. Unfortunately, it had been cut short when the witch had realized the time. 

Y/N was sick of scrambling around, running away and cowering from everything. Because she had not only feared the suppressed��group that had gone either into hiding or had lied to not face the terrible consequences but also the Aurors. Aurors who had tied a price tag around her head. She couldn’t even defend herself. By that, the witch meant that the way her head had wrapped around the wrong she had done placed her perspective in an angle some people would not believe. In simpler words, Y/N believed- no, she knew that they wouldn’t spare a speck of mercy onto her soul. Even though she had thought of surrendering herself with hands high in the air, the Potter had not been dumb. Not to forget, she had pride. Pride to not give the golden trophy right into the hands of the Aurors. 

Then, she made a move. It had been a risky path she fell into, but she moved her Queen piece across the chessboard. The only piece she had defending her sole King. Y/N sent a letter to the headmaster of Hogwarts. Despite her worry about his response since he was in fact, the creator of the Order of the Phoenix, there was no need to overthink of the great wizard’s reply. Dumbledore waited for the day, not losing a bar of hope for the return of the witch. The day she would clamber out of the dark hole she had stumbled into. Taking a chunk of his busy and occupied time, the wizard had made time for her. It was not long before they met up at the place he had chided to her when she was just a twelve-year-old, the place he told her where one should go before they die. Although, the place didn’t live up to the wizard’s words as it had been nighttime, the perfect and safe time for her to be out of her lodging, and it had recently just rained.

“There isn’t anything I say that will defend for what I have done. What I’ve done… it’s unforgivable.” Her gaze trailed down to brush over the clumpy doughs of the drenched soil. The stretched-out shapes had been filled in with the recent shower from the tears of the clouds. Although, the teardrops had been pure, innocent without a speck of tainted colour, now- it was just clouded. Y/N wished that was how she remembered her horribly chosen youth. Unfortunately, it had all been crystal clear. Despite her trying multiple choices of blurring out the wrong she had done, every single moment plays in her head every night. It sat in her mind, permanently. 

With her lack of interaction with other wizards to minimize her appearance to the wizard community, obliviating herself wasn’t really an option. There had been some… pathetic muggle suggestions such as hurling her head against a wall. It didn’t take her long before she discarded the idea that would only cause more harm than good. Even though she wished she would not be reminded of such memories, she then remembered one of the few hopes that kept her hanging on that cliff. 

No one was placed at such a position like Y/N’s. Well, other than someone she had grown to associate with the passing of years while she was a death eater. Is it still ‘was’? Was the thing she needed to yank out of her chest in the past? The ‘tattoo’ still remained. As time passed, it had faded from the prominent ink. Even though Y/N felt joy unfurl in her chest at the thought of it becoming non-existent, ready to see her bare arm once again without the hideous memory from her past, it lingered. The mark stayed to torture her every second. The branding on her arm had been the last string that labelled her as a death eater. She had not found anything to remove it. Y/N had gone through books after books, crumbling pages to flying lines, unreadable handwritings to hidden, enchanted chapters. None had given her an ounce of hope she needed.

“There have been many people who’ve done nothing but wrong their whole lives, yet, they always had something to say. What makes you an exception?” The man quirked up, his silvery eyebrows jumped at her figure with his infamous words that had been packed full of knowledge and riddle. It had always been like that, ever since she was just a child, the man who still rocked his extensive beard had become a prominent feature. Although, the two lost contact as she dived into the side she was warned about during dinner. Dinners that lasted short, a smudged out memory. Y/N pressed her lips in thought, fingers twiddling without a slight intrusion in her head. A habit she had grown up with. And like as always, he cut her off with another sentence for her to process. “If I remember correctly, you mentioned in the letter that you have not done more than maiming someone.”

“In the name of the Dark Lord.” 

“Yes, but it was for your survival,” Dumbledore interjected. Oh, he always had his way with his speeches and his sentences. 

A sigh brushed her lips, creaking into the heavy air of the light wind toying with the hairs of trees as if they were puppets. Pushing her legs to rest her back against the bench that had been damp from the previous shower, Y/N murmured without peeling her eyes away from her fingers, “He killed Regulus. Regulus never came back, you know? After a trip, he was gone… forever. That’s what made me doubt my choices. His death was the sole reason I had left.”

“Regulus Black. Sirius’s younger brother.”

Y/N hummed while her arms slithered to wrap around her body, the chilling kiss of the air had been merciless to the defence of her clothing, “Regulus Arcturus Black. Whenever I was lazy to call his name even though it’s just seven letters, I called him ‘R.A.B’,” She let out a chuckle since it had been her joke for the boy to embrace the three letters as his signature, before the corners of her lips curled down in realization. “Although, now, I seem to find the longer being comforting.” 

“There’s no need to worry, what matters most is your safety. You must try to stray away from any sight of those who may seem interested. I will write a letter once Harry starts his third year.” Y/N nodded even though she was slightly reluctant to the life she would have to shift her own foot in. Deep down, she knew, no matter what other’s would say to comfort and calm down her nerves, she would always have something to fidget about. Something that came in the package when one falls into the Death Eater’s path.

It had barely been a month since she had met with the well-known headmaster, and Y/N hadn’t exactly found peace in continuing her life of being a criminal. The ability to sit still in a seat for longer than fifteen minutes was non-existent. Thoughts ran, scrambling from one side of her head to the other without rest. Every second, she would always have something to think of. A smart decision she made during her Hogwarts years was focusing during classes despite her side chores, so, it only became helpful when she needed a vial of ‘Draught of Peace’ or ‘Calming Draught’ to calm down her relentless thoughts. 

Harry recently started his third year at Hogwarts as the letter sent by the one and only, Dumbledore. The wizard had reminded her as he had promised; although, she remembered the day the students would be going back to school. Y/N could only stare into the abyss while she dreamed of walking onto the ground of the school once more. Oh, to feel the chilling stone walls during winter. She could only dream. 

It was for the safety of her nephew, and for her to stay in hiding that she didn’t write to the boy; even though she desperately wanted to. So, Y/N spent hours on the crooked wooden desk which had been slanted down, the folded piece of newspaper had begun to damp in the humid air, melting into the floor. The witch wasted hours of her day that flew by once she completed the letter to her heart’s desire. Days that stretched out when she didn’t occupy herself. 

She could barely count the number of lines she had scribbled down onto countless yellow sheets of paper. After a day of jotting down hefty block of paragraphs that was enough to build castles, she would stuff the pile of letters away, under her bed, or she would try her best to cram the sheets into the minuscule gaps between tattered books and the shelves. Most addressed to her nephew, now, just unsent thoughts that had been occupying her head, and desires of her heart which she had no one to pour out to. 

There was nothing Y/N could do. She was edging to the last sentence of her book, the last chapter of her story. If she was to stay, all she would have is Harry. Even so, she didn’t have him. The young wizard was hurled into the palms of her sister-in-law, muggles who hated whatever wizards were capable of. 

Maybe the only reason she reached out to Dumbledore was because she had information, intel that would be impeccably useful to the Order. Things the members wouldn’t even be able to smear against, things they can’t even imagine. Comparing herself to some members of the organization who had achieved great things in the available tasks by the Ministry, Y/N had seen far more than some of them has. She has seen gruesome sights, sights she wished she had glanced away from. However, she knew, she knew he was watching. 

That was her lifestyle now. The witch would have to suck it up, swallow the truth and deal with the reality she was stuck in. Stranded in a sole, pathetic room of a sad excuse of a building. Y/N had barely left the place she would have to call home. There had been multiple times the owner had tried to usher the lady out for a quick talk, Y/N did not want to risk anything. The only walls that had been present in the rented room were for the loo, that- she was grateful for. 

Then, news broke out into the wizarding community, it cracked over their heads like a spoiled egg, the yolk oozing out in a battered pace before it splattered into a squelch. News that sent everyone into a frenzy, news that made heads poked into corners of streets before they proceeded to walk the route they had been used to for years. News of the notorious Sirius Black breaking out of Azkaban. It was impossible. No one had fled away from the prison. He was the first. 

However, unlike most, Y/N knew things some didn’t know. It was not belief, rather, she knew the truth. Sirius Black did not do the things wizards and witches had whispered into each other’s ears. He was not capable of said-things. Y/N had met the man from his tight friendship with her older brother. Friendship that people had poked at him for being weak since he had shown his back to James. Those people knew nothing. They didn’t know how close they were for James to bring the boy to live at their house. They didn’t know that her parents had seen Sirius as their son. No one knew the truth, yet, they still let their words slip up into stubborn rumours. 

During her years of being a death eater, side-by-side with Regulus, her head held high without a quiver in her bone, Y/N had heard and seen things. Maybe some of them she should’ve not even eavesdropped on. It would’ve cost her life… she still did so. Y/N was meant to be in Slytherin, it was destiny that she had denied ever since the hat had spoken, and she saw her brother’s expression falter at the declaration. Despite her opposition to the situation, she wore the new shoes perfectly. The first few years, she was as close to her brother as she was before, any time she saw him in the corridor, she would wave, or they would pick up a desultory conversation. With that, he had introduced his friends. Y/N could see the tight rope around them, bonds she can’t see broken. Or so she thought. 

Then, it inched to her fourth year when she truly distanced herself. No, nothing would be blamed onto Regulus, no idea of his would be looked upon for the dead could not even defend himself. Y/N fell onto the path her parents had prominently warned her about. Their occasional talks about people who were surrounded with an aura that would send shivers down their spines sparked into muffled ears. Those lectures and lessons were all forgotten as Y/N found comfort standing beside the person she could not tear herself from. 

Walburga would accept the girl with warm embrace. Although, that came with its consequences. Y/N had to sit at the dining table, next to Regulus while the woman rambled poison-filled words about her parents who were not ashamed to be in the presence of muggles. The blinded girl did as her blurred head told her to do so, she tolerated the blows to her gut. It was only rare times when Regulus would speak up to stop his mother from hurling more onto the meal made by the elf. Despite Walburga’s hatred for Y/N’s parents, the woman had mentioned countless times that she had filled in the shameful place of her other son. Y/N was sure the empty space in her house had been plucked in with Sirius Black. 

Regulus would just be flushed with crimson red whenever his mother had brought up the two. She always took the chance to talk about how good they looked next to each other. There were few, forgotten times when she had dropped the word marriage. However, there was nothing but friendship between the two that would constantly burgeon, blossoming every second of every day. Walburga would swat it away, not believing them. 

It was true, despite the pureblood mother believing the two had something going on. It was nothing but friendship. Sure, there had been gentle kisses against cheeks, but it was nothing more. 

Everything then fell apart. She didn’t know who was amusing themselves by having a poke at the blocks of her life, but she knew it had wavered her platform. It was Regulus, then, it was her mother and father. The night when the elf had stumbled into the Grimmauld place, an ominous locket in his grasp, Y/N’s head went into a frenzy. She had never seen the creature look so distraught. The only reason she had remained at the house was because she had nowhere else to go. It wasn’t until days she would piece everything together. Regulus had gone, so the house-elf had confessed. The truth was not to be told to his family. How did anyone expect her to stay at the house she had made unforgettable memories? Y/N left, not even a farewell or a note for the family. 

The two had whispered conversations of the truth of becoming a death eater, they would do so under their breaths, afraid of who might listen. Whatever Regulus did, she did too. 

Kreacher said he had been ordered by Regulus to go back home with the locket, leaving the wizard to die. Y/N had screamed at the creature for his pathetic words, thankfully, Walburga nor Orion was at home. The two Slytherins had discussed of the Dark Lord’s attempt to murder the house-elf before they dived into countless pages, all so they could land to assume that the locket had been a Horcrux. The two eighteen-year-olds had just found out the deepest secret of the Dark Lord. And one of them died with the truth, while the other ran for her life.

If it wasn’t enough, Y/N could not even attend the funeral of her parents. The people she had not spoken to for years. She had listened to the words on the street that it was to Dragon Pox. It was then Y/N had to sit through excruciating months before she had the chance to visit their graves. The last she had seen their faces was a photo she had absent-mindedly packed before she had run away from home. If seeing her parents in flesh was in consideration, it was the sobbing mother who could not calm her hiccups in tears with every caress of her husband’s warmth. The photo might’ve been the best mistake she had ever made. 

In the midst of 1980, thoughts that would only surface when the sun no longer exists had steered the witch away from the path she thought she would be on until she bled to death. Just before she allowed the thought of living her life on the run consumed her, she had planned and listed out everything that would come as consequences if she was to proceed. That was when she tumbled over something. Still a death eater, she had stumbled upon the voice of a man who had been deeply trusted by her brother conversing with none other than the leader of the dark. His squeaky voice poured out every information he had about James and Lily. However, that was not the thing she had eavesdropped on. It was the fact that the man was Peter Pettigrew, the boy who would trail with the group. All so he could fall under the protection of the Dark Lord. What a grave mistake he had made. 

Y/N didn’t know what it was in her, but she then cut off any ties with the death eaters. That sounded easier than it truly was. There would be nights when she would feel her arm burn, flames piercing into her skin. He was angry, furious- she knew. All she could do was clutch onto the frigid sheets of the bed around her inflamed arm. She lived and survived, something she didn’t know how she came out successful, and lived her life on the run, always on edge. She stayed at multiple places, hoping the dark lord and his goons had not found her. To her luck, the pain dimmed down, she had only felt the faintest of a sting at the mark. 

Then, it was the unseen, unfortunate death of James and Lily. Y/N didn’t waste a second when she had heard a man regurgitate the words at the bar to sprint towards the house. The motionless figure of the man she once had picked on for accidentally wearing her jumper of an adorable bunny. So, she cradled his chilling body while streams of tears gush out of her eyes. There was no one left for her. That was, until she reluctantly pulled away from the corpse to follow the boisterous cries. Up the mess of a corridor and into a nursery with planks of wood decorating the floor She was met by a gruesome sight of her sister-in-law, flat on the ground, and the relentless toddler who the dark lord feared, her nephew.

Even though Y/N wished to spend more time, she had no choice but to peel herself away. She apparated away once she jumped through the window. Not long after, it was the rest of the Order’s turn to take in the event. 

Y/N knew there had been some death eaters who remained loyal to the dark lord despite his fall. Some had been locked up in Azkaban, while the rest still sauntered over streets casually. She knew some of them would be chasing after her, she knew the Ministry was searching for her, so why did she fall for the words scribbled by Dumbledore to meet up with Remus? 

“Sirius didn’t kill James and Lily.” Remus nodded, his eyes finding the sight of the pond to be more captivating. 

“I know.”

“Sirius didn’t murder those muggles.” Remus nodded once again.

“I know.”

“You know, yet, you had not defended the man when everyone’s ears had been stuffed with lies.” The wizard could only press his lips, lost in thought.

“Y/N, listen, we haven’t exactly been on the same path, but I feel like we are now,” The witch’s eyebrows furrowed. Remus swung from the same bench she had sat with Dumbledore. “I wanted to meet you when Dumbledore had told me he had met you. Although, I didn’t have a good excuse to do so. Now, I do.” 

His ominous words had only made her fingers crawl towards her wand. Neck snapping towards the rustling of leaves, she shot up from the seat, the wooden stick pointing towards the source of noise. With a spell murmured by Remus, her wand was out of her hand. She didn’t want to falter her gaze from the shadow that poured out of the bushes, but she couldn’t help her expression morphing into that of betrayal. Remus didn’t bother to send a face to comfort her. 

Y/N felt every muscle in her body freeze, every fibre was pulled taut before they remained stationary. The black dog paced towards her at a casual pace, almost approaching her carefully. Its eyes, it looked familiar. She had seen it somewhere. And no wonder… she had. Before her eyes, the dog transformed into a man who was dressed in tattered and shabby clothing of dull colours. The face of the man who had been plastered all across newspapers and streets, “Sirius?”

Maybe she should’ve panicked first, to why he had even put himself at risk, her even, but she reverted to another path. She saw Regulus in him. The infamous Black’s dark hair which Regulus would gingerly trim and take care of had flourished on Sirius’s head. 

“You’ve got to be joking me,” Y/N gushed out, the corners of her lips curled up in amusement even though she felt anything but amusement. “Are you out of your mind? You truly have gone insane in Azkaban.”

The witch turned to face Remus, “You too. Is this the plan of yours? What? To bag me up for the Ministry?”

Remus sighed out, his fingers splayed out against her wand, “Sirius wanted to meet you, the reason, he had not told me. This meeting is not a trick, no one knows Sirius is here.”

“Will you be holding my wand throughout this?” The man could only give her a slight nod of his head. Y/N let out a frustrated huff. “Fine, get on with it, I can’t wait to leave the country after this.” 

“Do you know of Peter’s boundaries?” Sirius’s voice sounded hoarse, raspy as if he desperately needed water. Maybe that’s what happens when one has just escaped a prison which was believed to prevent escapes.

Y/N’s face transformed into that of an offended expression, “Peter Pettigrew?” Once the man confirmed with a nod of his head, Y/N scoffed at the accusation. “What makes you think I know where he is?” 

“Well, you two bear the mark,” The words fell off his tongue without a care for her. “You two sold yourselves to Voldemort, it would only make sense if you knew where the traitor is.”

“Sorry to break it to you, but I have no idea of where he is.” 

Seconds morphed into minutes, minutes of Sirius’s eyes beaming onto her, “Have you bothered to search for him? Did you even know he was the one who sold out James and Lily to Voldemort?”

“I know a lot of things, Black,” Y/N sneered. “To satisfy your endless questions, I’ve done everything I could to find him when I happened to stumble upon his voice at the Malfoy’s home.”

“You knew that Peter was meeting with Voldemort and you didn’t bother to spend a cent on the thought that it would be James and Lily’s fall? Were you too busy snogging my brother?”

The mention of Regulus sparked up something in her chest, something that spun through hurricanes, Y/N’s expression hardened at the sight of the man, “Do not speak ill of Regulus.”

“Still defending my brother? You two never parted away from each other, every corner I turn at school, you two were always side-by-side.” Sirius could feel the corners of his lips curl up. 

“Sirius,” Remus interjected to stop the man, he knew this would not go well if the convict had not held himself back. 

“How hard it must’ve been for you to see him gone.”

Y/N could feel her fingers furl with every word he uttered, “He was your brother.”

“Was. I was exiled from my family, remember? You would remember clearly, I remember the day you left home to stay at that horrid place.”

“Sirius, that’s enough.”

“No! Remus! She must know the pain she inflicted onto her parents when she stepped away from that house, the sadness James drowned himself in when he couldn’t find any way to invite you to his wedding.”

“Would you stop mentioning my brother?”

“Oh, so now you consider him with sentiment? What happened to avoiding us?” 

“Are you done? I had only prayed the meeting with Remus to be civilized, yet, here you are.” She sneered. 

“Why do you fear of talking about James? Are you turning away like a coward? Now?”

“I don’t want to talk about James because I’m not in the mood for it, Sirius.”

“When are you in the mood then? Is it because you are saddened by the fact that you couldn’t take Harry when you visited their house?” Y/N accidentally allowed her eyes to widen at his words “You didn’t think we wouldn’t know?”

“I was in no position to take Harry.”

“You were in every position to take Harry!” Sirius yelled out, his veins popping up to bulge into the air. “You are his blood! His aunt! His godmother!”

“His what?”

taglist: @teheharrypotter​

[bbrandy2002]

My Love

Chapter Four-Please Remember

Book: TRH

Pairing: Liam and Riley

A/N: Thank you @burnsoslow who edited the hell out of this and did so masterfully and just for all your support with everything. Also, @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore and @romanticatheart-posts I stole your words from your comments on the previous chapter. It was just two sentences but wanted to give credit where it was due. Keep your comments coming and you two will have this thing written for me..lol. And lastly, @dcbbw who sent me the perfect song for inspiration found here:

 https://youtu.be/3Ru1euNUN2s

Warning: Physical altercation and MC death mentioned.

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

Silence fell on Liam’s lips as he held in his hand the first missing piece to Riley’s death. It had been exactly 12 hours since she departed this earth and his life,  taking with her the best parts of himself. Every second since had felt like thousands of painful stings throughout his entire body that he wanted nothing more than to numb.  Would this report provide him with all the answers he sought to why her life was taken from her? Would it make his heart hurt any less knowing what happened? Or would it simply open Pandora’s box, leaving him with more questions?  He knew it wouldn’t heal the pain he felt, but perhaps it would clue him into why she was gone.

Ignoring Bastien’s suggestion to sit, he turned away from his head guard and pinched the clasp of the manila envelope. With his heart thundering in his chest, he reached inside and slid the report from its enclosure. Pacing nervously, his eyes scrutinized every single word, line by line, from her name to how the exam was conducted. Nothing was abnormal.

He licked his thumb and turned to the second page. His eyes immediately caught sight of the bold type at the bottom of the page, and he couldn’t help but skip straight to it.

The cause of death is acute respiratory distress from potassium cyanide-induced histotoxic hypoxia. 

Manner of death: Homicide.

Liam read those words over and over again, unsure he really believed them. His stomach wrenched as thoughts of his own mother's murder began to haunt him; how could this happen again?  Riley, his love, the one who made him complete, who turned his world upside-down in the very best ways possible, succumbed to the same death his mother had over 20 years ago. Poisoned.

He had spent the last several hours contemplating whether he had done something to hurt her, thinking perhaps she hadn't been physically ready to be intimate the prior evening. As ominous as that thought was, knowing now that she was murdered, that he risked her life to marry for love after his father warned him of the pain of losing Liam’s mother, made him feel every bit as culpable of her demise. It was why he hadn’t chosen her at his coronation; he knew she was set up, but he had to protect her, even if it meant they couldn’t be together. 

Liam turned to Bastien with a remorseful look. “I killed her, Bas.”

“Sir, you did no such thing.”

He held up the report. “Then explain this … he warned me, Bastien; my father told me my love for her made me weak, that I put everyone at risk by choosing her. He was right.”

“Your Majesty, regardless of what the late King said, the same poison that killed your mother was found in the Queen. We need to proceed with an investigation and find out who really committed this atrocious act.”

Liam ran a hand down his face. “Yes, we need another damn investigation that will take you 20 years to figure out-except you didn’t figure out who killed my mother! my friends and I did that!” he spat.

“Sir, with all due respect, I wasn’t the Head Guard when your mother passed.”

Liam yanks Bastien by the collar, nearly nose to nose with him. “YOU ARE FOR THIS ONE!”

The guard attempted to loosen the grip, feeling the weight of his King’s words. “Please, sir. I understand the anger directed at me …”

“Oh, I don’t believe you can even begin to understand the anger I have for you, Mr. Lykel.” Liam stepped back. “You are charged with protecting my family, and so far two members of the royal family have been murdered on your watch:my father and my wife..So help me God, if I find out you could have prevented this and failed again …”

“What’s going on?” Drake asked, having heard the commotion and stepped around the corner to make sure everything was okay.

Liam continued to eye Bastien with a steely glare. “Drake, can you stay with Ellie while I take care of some business? I need someone I can trust to actually protect her.”

__________

In the lowest reaches of the palace, Liam placed two cold hands on the cell bars of the former Duke of Karlington. Godfrey had been imprisoned for the last six weeks, awaiting trial for his part in Eleanor’s death. The elderly man was lying down on his cot, stewing in boredom and oppressive thoughts, when he heard the familiar sound of keys clanking and the creaking of the door swinging open. Before he had time to lower the arm that rested over his eyes, he was jerked from his peaceful doldrums on the bed and brought to his feet. His aging body was thrust against the icy concrete of his prison walls, causing him to bounce off and stumble harshly to the ground.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Liam crouched down beside him, grabbing a fistful of Godfrey’s silver mane in one hand and his feeble neck with the other. “You son of a bitch. I will give you one chance and one chance only to rectify your miserable life before I strangle you with my bare hands!"

"This is preposterous," he gagged slightly as Liam's hand constricted tighter around his neck. Godfrey instinctively began tugging on the King's arm, desperate for breath.

"Did you kill my wife?" His tone became sharper.

The Duke gasped for air after the grasp on his neck was loosened. He furrowed his brows as he stared straight into the unforgiving eyes of his captor, unsure whether the lack of oxygen caused him to misunderstand.

"Did I hear you correctly? The Queen … is dead?"

Liam released his hold on Karlington's neck but kept the other bound to the back of his hair. "Did.you.do.it?'' he seethed.

"I haven't the faintest idea what the bloody hell you speak of!'' he replied contemptuously. "I'm facing death for what happened to Eleanor; what possible reason would I have for harming the Queen now?"

"Because you have a track record, Your Grace. The same poison you used to end my mother’s life was found in Riley’s body. I don’t believe this is just some coincidence.  You had nothing to lose."

"I would have nothing to gain either," he replied succinctly.

Liam let out a heavy sigh and stood, towering over the man whose deception and thirst for power had cost him years of anguish and emotional turmoil as a child. He searched Godfrey’s malevolent face for any indication of guilt or responsibility, yet none was detected. Feeling overcome by mental and physical exhaustion, he turned and walked toward the prison doors, where a guard stood nearby watching the encounter. “I’m ready.”

The guard pulled his keys from the clip on his belt and opened the door. As he exited and the lock was secured behind him, Godfrey pushed himself up from the ground and called out to him.

“Your Majesty!”

Liam stopped just out of view but did not face him. "What is it, Godfrey?"

Godfrey grabbed the bars of his cell and pressed his withered face against them.

“Sometimes we have no one to blame but ourselves. Are you really surprised this has happened, considering that from the moment you announced your engagement to the puckish American, our country has suffered one attack after another? Perhaps you’ll think wisely when choosing your next queen, because this lies squarely on your shoulders, Rhys."

Liam hung his head low Godfrey’s words were doing exactly what he intended them to do, getting under his skin and inside his heart. He did blame himself; he knew he always would. The guilt was eating him up inside because he thought the two of them together were unstoppable. They had encountered every possible danger together and always came out victoriously, but somehow he failed her this time. He turned on his heels, motioning for the guard to reopen Godfrey’s cell door.

“Take care of him.”

The guard nodded and lifted the pommel of his club from the holster at his side.

_____________

That evening, Hana would return to Valtoria. She had offered to stay, but Liam insisted he and Ellie would be fine. Maxwell and Bertrand returned to Ramsford soon after, and Drake retired to his room.

Liam stood just outside his bedroom after putting Ellie in her crib for the night. Fear of being in their room without Riley, sleeping in their bed alone for the first time and knowing that was the last place he saw her alive, prevented him from stepping inside. He placed his hand on the doorknob and slowly turned it, then let go. 

With the baby monitor still in his hand, he headed back downstairs and stepped out onto the balcony just off the living room. Liam placed both hands on the balcony railing and leaned into it. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, allowing the cool, spring wind that carried just a hint of honeysuckle to refresh his mind and relax his worn and weary body. 

“My love,” he began, peering down towards the entrance of the hedge maze. “I keep expecting to wake up and see that beautiful face of yours looking back at me, telling me this has all been just one horrible nightmare.” His throat began to tighten as his emotions started to resurface. “I have all of our wonderful friends, I have Ellie, but I don’t have you … and I’m so lonely, Riley,” he choked out. “I’m so lonely.”

Liam swiped away the tears that began to surface and roll down his cheeks like a torrential downpour. “Everyone keeps telling me that we will find out who did this to you - and I swear I will - but in the end, it won’t bring you back to me ... and our little girl will never know her mother, Ri. How do I even begin to tell her about you?... about us?” 

Liam pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and washed it over his teary face. His gaze turned to a small apple tree that he and Riley planted just outside the hedge maze shortly after finding out they were expecting a baby. Liam recalled she wanted something to represent the three of them: her being from the Big Apple, him being from the Land of Apples and their baby referred to by the people of Cordonia as “the Little Apple.” A thought crossed his mind, and he knew it was the right decision.  “Love, if it’s okay, I would like to lay you to rest under that tree.” He sniffles, “I think you would have wanted that.”

Feeling his eyelids growing heavier than he could withstand any longer, he said a quick good night, hoping it reached the heavens, before returning to the warmth of the indoors. 

Liam walked back upstairs and grabbed two blankets and a pillow from a hall closet. He entered Ellie’s room. Even with a guest bedroom, he didn’t want to be alone tonight, opting to sleep on the floor next to his daughter’s crib. 

______________

It had been one week since Riley died, and there were no leads, no suspects, no evidence other than the cyanide found in her body. No one who had spoken with or saw her in the days prior to the tragedy noticed anything that suggested she was sick. Cyanide poisoning kills quickly, though, and Liam, as the last person to see her alive, couldn’t explain how she ingested it. Their quarters had been swept, and no traces of suspicious activity was found anywhere. As frustrating as all of this was to Liam, he had something else on his mind today.

It had taken him three days to finally re-enter his bedroom, yet he still slept in Ellie’s nursery where the staff prepared a small bed for him there. He knew it was nonsensical, but he just couldn’t bring himself to be alone in bed without Riley.

Today, all businesses were closed, flags lined the streets of the Capital, and a frenzy of press and people were already gathering along the funeral procession route to pay homage to their beloved queen. At the palace, Liam stood before the vanity, adjusting his tie, smoothing out his suit jacket, and locking the emerald  cufflinks Riley gave him in place. He glanced over himself once more in the mirror before peeking down at Ellie, who was sitting in a bouncer on the vanity beside him, watching his every move. 

“All right, Princess, this is where your mother would tell me my tie is crooked or I have a hair standing up in the back. It’s up to you now; what’s the verdict?”

Ellie’s lips curved into a large smile, completely enamored by the attention she was getting from her father. “I will take that to mean the Princess approves,” he smiled back.

Liam gathered a baby cloth and slung it over his shoulder then lifted the baby from her bouncer. With a kiss to her forehead, he moved downstairs, where Bertrand and Maxwell were waiting for him at the door. Both brothers’ grim faces perked up at the sight of the approaching baby, who was almost a mirror image of Riley. Miss Talbert, who had served as Riley’s personal assistant, agreed to stay on as Ellie’s nanny, having helped care for her in one way or another since her birth.

“Amanda, she’s been changed and fed recently and will most likely take a nap within the hour.”

“Come here, sweetheart.” Amanda took Ellie from Liam’s arms. “We’ll be fine, Your Majesty; I’ll take good care of this little peanut.”

Liam kissed his daughter on the cheek. “Daddy loves you, sweet girl; I’ll be home soon.”

He looked down at his watch and then to Bertrand and Maxwell. “We should probably go.”

Stepping outside the front doors of the Palace, Liam took a deep breath and prepared himself mentally for what he thought would be some of the most difficult hours of his life. The eyes of the world would be watching his every move, every expression, and every shed tear. It wasn’t fair that he had to be strong; he detested the expectations he was burdened with on today of all days, yet it was what was conventional of a monarch during a time like this. Any sign of weakness could be detrimental to his country, or so he had been led to believe. He wondered why grieving the loss of your wife, your best friend, could be misconstrued as a sign of vulnerability ... but then, perhaps, today, he was vulnerable.

The sun was high, and the warmth it rained down was quite welcoming. With Maxwell on Liam’s left side and Bertrand on his right, they stopped at the end of the cobblestone walkway that led to the drive in front of the palace, and there they waited. The silence that commenced for the next minute was finally broken by the advancing sound of a horse’s trot. 

Drake was riding Maribelle’s Dream and pulled a wooden caisson bearing the casket of Riley Brooks. Draped over her coffin were the flags of Valtoria, Cordonia, and Ramsford, as well as a bouquet of her favorite flower, purple lilies perched in the center.

Maxwell lost all control of his emotions as she passed by, while Liam and Bertrand bowed their heads in deference. Once the carriage had cleared, the three men stepped forward and followed behind on foot, out the gates and to the cathedral. 

The service was a traditional, royal funeral. Liam wasn’t sure she would have liked it, considering she was anything but traditional. Sitting in the front row, he maintained his stoic facade as everyone around him wept and sniffled, yet inside, he was completely destroyed. He was devastated in his grief and the realization that the last time he was in this building, he was beginning his life with her; now, one year later, he was here once again, for its ending.

“King Liam of Cordonia, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you vow to love her, comfort her, and cherish her, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in times of joy and times of trial, til death do you part?”

“I do.”

At the conclusion of the ceremony and after all guests in the cathedral had exited, Liam, Drake, Hana, Maxwell, and Bertrand each gathered around Riley with heavy hearts. It had been decided they would each place a sentimental item with her and say their final goodbyes, away from rolling cameras and the eyes of the public. This would be their final time together as “The Gang” and wasn’t something they wanted to share with anyone else. 

Bertrand, never one for words, gave her a copy of the bill for the Applewood dress she never returned, knowing she would have found it hilarious and so perfectly him. His throat tight with emotion.  “Goodbye, Lady Riley, until we meet again.”

Hana stepped forward. “Riley, you gave me the confidence to be me, to follow my own path, to have fun, to laugh, to be wild and free. You’ve always been there for me, and I will never forget you.” She gave Riley the recipe for her hot cocoa that they had spent so much time bonding over. It reminded her of all their best times together. She placed a hand on her friend’s cheek.

Maxwell held out a small white box and placed it next to her. “I wanted to give you a box of cronuts because it was one of the funnest nights I ever remember with you … I assume you would appreciate the fact that I’ve already eaten half of them.” he chuckled through tears. “I’ll never forget you, Riley … I … I … I can’t do this.” Maxwell turned and fell into Bertrand and Hana’s embrace.

Drake inhaled deeply. “Uh … hey, Brooks. You already know what I got you.” He slipped a bag of marshmallows inside. “I can hear you laughing now and telling me how gooey I am on the inside. I like to think you had a little something to do that with, but don’t go getting all boastful about it.” He sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair. “Damn, this hurts, Brooks … but I want you to know, I’ll take care of Liam and Ellie and … maybe you can save me a seat at that bar in heaven.” He smirked, “Yeah, my heaven has a bar, and all the whiskey I can drink.”

The four friends stood back, their arms around each other as Liam prepared to say goodbye. His thumb caressed her temple as he looked down at the face of his angel.

He cleared his throat and reached inside his breast pocket, pulling out several things. “Love … I have a few things to take with you, just some photos of us together and Ellie … and because you know me better than anyone, you would know I spent last night writing this letter to you … you always said I have a letter to write for every occasion. I won’t read it to you, but --” his lips began to quiver and his shoulders shook -- “I wanted you to know how proud I am of you … how proud I’ve always been of you. You possessed a strength I never had and without you, never will. All those dreams we won’t be able to fulfill -  yet we lived every dream we had to the fullest. We sure had one hell of an adventure, didn’t we?” He sobbed passionately, “We just ran out of time.” 

Liam leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Riley’s lips, lingering for just a moment. “I always loved you … I always will.”

With that, “the gang” left together and returned to the gardens of the Palace. They gathered together for a private burial under that apple tree she planted, while the birds soared, the butterflies flew, and the squirrels ran across the lush palace lawn. The five of them held each other, cried and laughed, remembering times and a life they would never know again.

[justanotherlifeff]

Levi Ackerman × reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Fluff, matured themes, slowburn

Warning: There's mentions and descriptions of underage rape and suicidal themes and self harm and other triggering stuff.

No one's POV

"Squad leader (Y/N)! The scouts are back! They retook wall Maria!", (Y/N) was woken by Diana's excited yelling. She barged into Levi's room, mud all over her shoes. (Y/N) woke up with a jolt and noticed it. "Levi will be pissed..." she thought but she didn't say anything to Diana. This wasn't the time for it. She knew that she had to see if Levi and Erwin returned safely or not. "Diana, saddle my horse. Fast" (Y/N) commanded Diana as she went to the bathroom to change out of her nightgown. She didn't take long to change and when she was done, she immediately ran for the stable, her heart fluttering with joy. They are back. They are successful. They are one step ahead for humanity's victory.

When (Y/N) reached the stable, Diana was done saddling the horse and (Y/N) immediately got on it and galloped for the walls. The fluttering feeling in her heart turned into an uncomfortable clench when she reached the wall. An elevator with nine people was coming down. An elevator can hold about twenty people. "Was that all the people who survived?" she thought, the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach increasing. The lift seemed to come down for eternity. "Are they dead?" (Y/N)'s mind whispered to herself. She had no idea what she would do without Levi. Without Erwin, her only family left. When the lift came down finally, (Y/N) felt like her heart stopped. At the front was Hanji, her eye bandaged. Behind her was Levi. (Y/N)'s eyes widened at the sight.

"No... This isn't happening..." her mind shouted. Levi noticed her on her horse and bowed his head. "He didn't protect Erwin..." (Y/N)'s mind whispered at her. Out of instinct, (Y/N) turned her horse and galloped towards the Survey corps headquarter, not stopping even when Levi shouted, "(Y/N)! Wait!" loudly.

(Y/N) went straight into Levi's office. She needed to know how Erwin died. She needed to know if Levi tried his best to save him. After what seemed like a lifetime later, Levi entered his office to find (Y/N) sitting on one of the chairs in front of his desk. "How did it happen?" (Y/N) asked him in a quiet voice. Her face scared Levi. It was what he saw the day he first met (Y/N). Emotionless and cold. There were no tears in (Y/N)'s eyes. She almost looked like she was tired, like she was bored. Levi didn't know how to explain everything to her. He was never too good at explaining anyway.

With a sigh, he said, "Both Erwin and Armin were seriously injured. I had to use the titan serum on one of them and I decided that it was time for Erwin to rest.". "So, you killed him..." (Y/N) stated, her voice showing...nothing. No anger, no regret, no sadness. Her voice was like of a dead person, void of any human emotion. "(Y/N), I had good reason to..." Levi tried to explain but (Y/N) held her hand up, signalling him to stop. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say." she said before walking towards the door. "Don't try to follow me. I don't want to see your face again." she told him, not bothering to look at him before walking out of the office.

(Y/N) felt numb. Memories of Erwin and Levi making promises shot through her mind. "How many times will I lose everything dear to me?" she thought. To her, life seemed more meaningless than ever. She walked towards her office. Yes, she had her own office but she preferred to work with Levi. She felt lonely doing all the work alone. Ironically, loneliness was all she had now. She took a pen and paper and wrote a letter.

"Ms Hanji Zoe

Commander

Survey corps

Subject: Resignation letter

Dear Hanji,

Please accept this letter as my formal resignation from the position as squad leader of the Survey corps, effective from whenever you get the letter.

I appreciate the opportunity of growth and development you have provided me.

Sincerely,

(Y/N) (L/N)"

This was it. She knew she had to run from this life. Being in the Survey corps meant she had to witness the death of loved ones again. She had to face Levi again. (Y/N) walked towards Erwin's office. "I will never see him sitting in there again" her mind whispered to her. She opened the door to find an empty room. "Hanji didn't move in yet.." she assumed. Memories of when she was chosen as squad leader, when she asked him to walk the aisle with her on her wedding passed her mind. The wedding would never happen now. She remembered the ring in her finger. "Should I leave it with the letter?" she thought, not being able to make up her mind. At the end she decided to keep it.

As a symbol of her old memories of a Levi she knew she loved. (Y/N) placed the letter on the desk and went out of the office, out of the headquarters. She didn't take her horse or her possessions, she didn't have the time to. She walked towards the place where she made the decision of joining the Survey corps. To the orphanage.

(Y/N) POV

I knocked on the door of the orphanage and the matron opened the door. Seemed like the news of Uncle Erwin's death spreaded like wild fire since the first thing the matron did was hug me and say, "Oh (Y/N) dear! I'm so sorry...". "Ms Winkler (the matron's name), can I stay here for a few days? Till I get my own house?" I asked her calmly. "Your own house? Aren't you getting married soon?" she asked me, confused. "I'm afraid the wedding won't take place. After what he did..." I sighed. "My dear, I don't know what the captain did but you rejecting him means it must be something horrid. You're welcome to stay here for as long as you want. I'm getting old, so a bit of help is always welcomed." Ms Winkler smiled as she took me in.

Ms Winkler showed me my room a while back. I sat on the bed, trying to remain calm but I felt restless. The depth of the situation was finally hitting me. Uncle Erwin is dead. I left Levi. I left the Survey corps. I have absolutely nothing left to live for. I felt emotionally unstable. I felt all energy from my body being drained. "I can't take this anymore. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts..." my mind was screaming.

I walked to the bathroom. Conveniently, there was a blade there. I had to cut myself. Drown my sorrows by causing external pain. Just before the blade touched my skin, I remembered that I wasn't alone. I still had my child. "I'm sorry honey... I completely forgot about you... I'm so sorry I almost hurt you..." I whispered to my stomach, which bulged a bit now. I caressed it a bit as I sat on the bathroom floor, whispering sorry as tears streamed down my face. I have to take on all the pain the world throws at me. I have to make sure my child gets a happy life.

A week later

"(Y/N), you need to eat properly... You're eating like a mouse, dear... Both the baby and you needs the food..." Ms Winkler tried to convince me to eat. I honestly tried my best to eat as much as I can but I had no appetite. After the happenings of last week, nothing felt good. I slept for two days, eating a few bites of bread whenever Ms Winkler got it to me. She was worried about my and my child's health and even if I was grateful that she was making the effort, I just couldn't eat. My sleep schedule was all over the place too as my nightmares came back.

It's been a while since I've been having nightmares every night. Being with Levi helped but now... There's nothing I could do about it. I've been helping Ms Winkler with her household duties, looking after the other kids, and keeping myself as busy as possible to forget the events of last week. Hanji didn't send me an approval of the resignation letter yet and I thought about going to the Survey corps headquarter to make sure if she got the letter or not but later decided against it as there was a chance of running into Levi there.

I still didn't know why he decided to let Erwin die but I decided that it's best if I don't know as the truth on it might only be more hurtful. I rented a house last day too, where I was supposed to move in to next week. The owner, a lovely old lady, was really understanding of my situation. I was peeling some potatoes in the kitchen when Ms Winkler came into the kitchen and told me, "(Y/N), someone is here to see you."

Levi POV

It had been a week since (Y/N) left. I understood why she did it. What I did was unforgivable. However, I couldn't keep any regrets, right? My sleep schedule had been shit for the last week, the insomnia returned, as well as the nightmares. All I did everyday was bury myself with paperwork, clean any place with a speck of dirt and drink to some extent at night. My good alcohol tolerance didn't help at all. At least that kept my mind off things... Apparantly everyone was surprised when I cleaned the stable by myself two days back. I couldn't blame them because I made cadets do things like that since I became a squad leader. I was working on paperwork when Hanji entered the room.

"What do you want shitty glasses" I asked in a stoic expression, not looking up from the paperwork. "Oi, I'm the commander now. At least give some respect..." Hanji teased, trying to make me talk. She had been doing these for a while as I haven't talked to anyone much since last week. There just was too much on my mind and the amount of paperwork was intense. "It's been a week since she gave that resignation letter. What are you planning to do about it?" Hanji asked me. Yes, she wanted to leave the Survey corps. Because of me. It was all over wasn't it? "Aren't you in charge of writing the approval letter?" I asked, restricting any emotions in my voice.

"Levi, stop acting like you don’t feel anything. Before her commander, I'm her friend and I know that you want her to be happy as much as I do. You need to go and explain why you made that shitty decision. At least try to get her back." Hanji told me, her voice sounding angry. "I tried to tell her. She didn't want to listen" I answered. Hanji looked at me like I am horse shit.

"You went up to her and told her that you made the decision to kill Erwin. It's obvious that she wouldn't want to listen to you. And you stopped trying because of that one time? I honestly had better expectations from you, Levi." she told me, getting angrier. "What am I supposed to tell her? That I don't regret making that decision? You think she will like hearing that?" I asked Hanji, frustrated. She was right, I should've tried harder, but, how?

"But you do regret it don't you? Even if it probably was necessary according to you?" Hanji asked, in a soft tone. "I'm not supposed to regret it... Erwin said.." I was interjected by Hanji, who simply said, "Erwin regretted not being able to see what's in the basement, didn't he? Thus you had to make the decision for him and he had to die. Sure, the downfall was big but it caused one of our biggest victories didn't it? We know so much now... I suppose, regretting might give some good results too, doesn't it?" she explained. I was silent. She was right. I regretted my decision.

However, it had to be done. I had to explain everything to (Y/N) and leave the decision to her. "Levi, let's not delay things more. I got news that (Y/N) is staying at an orphanage nearby. Let's go together and convince her to talk to you. As a friend, I want her happy and as a commander, she is a huge asset to the survey corps, given that now we only have 9 survivors from the last mission. I'll tell someone to saddle our horses." she told be before getting up and going out of my room. I didn't feel as nervous as I feel now when I proposed (Y/N)...

It took a while for me to arrange all the paperwork I was working on into neat piles before going to the stable. Hanji was already there, on her horse. Diana, (Y/N)'s second in command was standing there. She probably was the one to saddle the horses. "Commander Hanji, when will squad leader (Y/N) return from vacation?" I heard her asking Hanji. Yes, the survey corps members and other higher ups were told that (Y/N) was on vacation as she needed some time alone due to Erwin's death, and not to talk about it to the press. The only people who knew about the resignation letter were myself and Hanji. "Well, we are going to talk to her about that now." Hanji smiled at Diana, who saluted me as I arrived near them. I motioned her to be at ease as I got on my horse. With that, we galloped towards the orphanage she was in.

We reached there in a few minutes as it was pretty close. "I'll go inside and talk to (Y/N) first. I'll call you when I have convinced her to talk to you. I have a feeling that she will refuse to talk to you at first." Hanji explained. I nodded as a reply. It was depressing to think that (Y/N) would refuse to talk to me. I got down from my horse to find a few kids staring at me and the horses. "Oi brats, you know where the stable is?" I asked them. One of them, possibly the leader, a small brunette kid, walked up to me and said, "I'd tell you if you were nice to me." with a pout.

"Listen, brat, I am being nice. I'm not in much of a good mood now, so don't give me this bullshit. Where's the stable?" I asked the kid in my monotone voice. "Mhhm, I won't tell you unless you're nice." she pouted. "Kid, don't expect every single stranger to sweet talk to you." I sighed. Kids were annoying. "Well, Ms (L/N) was a stranger. She was nice to us." the girl told me. "She was? Well, Ms (L/N) is a nice person. I on the other hand am a piece of shit who made her sad." I sighed, my expression showing some sadness even if I tried to hide it. The girl looked at me for a moment before saying, "The stable is in the backyard. Follow me.".

I followed the girl, the group of kids followed me. "You're captain Levi right?" the girl asked. "Yes. I am." I answered, as I walked with the horses. "How did you make Ms (L/N) sad?" she asked me. "Well, as you know, the commander of the survey corps is dead right? I had a lot of things to do with it. The commander was Ms (L/N)'s uncle and... You know how that works." I explained. "So you're here to talk to her?" the girl asked.

"Yeah" I answered as I got the horses in the stable. "You know, she won't be happy if you keep using your potty mouth. If you're nice to her, she will listen." the girl advised. I was surprised that a 10 year old was advising me about how I should talk to (Y/N). However, she wasn't entirely wrong. I only had a chance if I calmly explained everything one by one. "You're right, kid." I answered as I closed the stable door. "Oi, what's your name?" I asked the girl. "Stella." she answered as Hanji came out. "I figured you'd be near the stable. (Y/N) agreed to talk. Let's go." she said. "Best of luck out there. You need it." Stella told me with a smile.

(Y/N) POV

"Hanji?" I was surprised to see her here. I honestly thought she will just send an approval letter. "(Y/N), we need to talk." she told me. "I'll give you two some privacy" Ms Winkler said before getting out of the room. "I expected you to send an approval letter..." I started but Hanji interjected. "(Y/N), both you and Levi are my best friends. I want both of you to be happy. What you two are doing right now isn't gonna make either of you happy." she went straight to business. "Hanji, I'm happy this way. I don't want him in my life." I told her.

"Don't try to trick me, (Y/N). You're as thin as a scarecrow. I could tell you can't eat properly. Don't be so selfish (Y/N). We both know that you're not happy. Do you think your child will be okay without any explanation of why you left his or her father? You can't deny your child of his or her father just because you are angry." Hanji told me. "There is an explanation, Hanji. He decided to let Uncle Erwin die. He chose some Cadet over Uncle Erwin." I was interjected again.

"(Y/N), you weren't there when it happened. I saw the whole thing and I don't blame him. I don't know what he was thinking but I witnessed everything. He was going to give Erwin the injection. He was almost killed by Mikasa in the process. Eren begged him like his life depended on it. He ignored every one of them. I saw from far away that he almost pushed the needle in Erwin's hand but then Erwin shot his hand up, away from the needle and said something to Levi. That's when Levi gave the injection to Armin. I think, it was something that Erwin said that changed Levi's mind. Trust me, he wanted to save Erwin but I don't think Erwin wanted to be saved. If anyone broke a promise, it was Erwin. Not Levi." Hanji explained to me what she saw.

Was I blaming Levi for nothing then? What did Uncle Erwin say to him? "Levi hasn't been sleeping for the last week and he honestly looks as old as his age now. I don't want any of you two to suffer. Please, at least talk to him about it. Let him explain." Hanji told me in a serious tone. "Okay. I will talk to him." I sighed. If Hanji is right, I probably am making a big mistake by leaving him. I just had to make sure. "Ah, great! I will get Levi here in a minute. He's right outside!" Hanji said happily before skipping outside. That crazy woman is always prepared...

After a long minute, Levi entered the room. Hanji wasn't kidding when she said that Levi looks older. He had eye bags and looked like he had a bad case of a hangover. How much has he been drinking? I've never seen him having a hangover... Even after all that, he still managed to look almost as good as usual. "So, explain" I told him as he sat on the chair beside me. We were sitting at the dining room. "I decided that I will tell you everything from the beginning. After that, you're free to make any decision that you see fit." Levi told me. He looked like a defeated man, like he lost everything dear to him. "Okay" I replied before he started.

"We were losing the battle. The beast titan was throwing boulders at us, cornering us. If we were to wait longer, everyone would've died. We were in the inner walls of wall Maria. My squad and Hanji's squad was in Shiganshina. The colossal titan was coming towards us from Shiganshina. Eren was unconscious on top of the wall. Everything spelt defeat. I proposed Erwin that I would sacrifice myself so that he and the others could ride Eren and escape. It was a botched up plan anyway. Erwin then told me that he had a plan which included him and every other soldier in the inner wall to charge at the beast titan, making themselves potential targets. They would shoot flares at the beast, distracting him and I would use the line of titans next to him to get to him.

Erwin wanted to see what's in the basement and to attend the wedding. He wasn't willing to make the decision. I, at that time, decided that humanity's victory is more important because I wanted you and our child safe. Even if you leave me for it. I made the decision for him and he told me to take care of you two. The plan was a success. I got the beast titan but I hoped that Erwin was alive. I didn't kill the beast titan so that Erwin could turn into a titan and eat him. I was wrong, and the cart titan took the beast titan and ran off. He commanded his titan army to kill me but I killed the titan army as fast as possible before following the beast.

I found him talking to Eren but he saw me and ran again. My gas was finished when I reached Eren. There, I found that Armin was almost burnt to death. He defeated the colossal titan earlier by sacrificing himself. Berthold was captured by Eren. Eren told me to use the serum on Armin. I hesitated because there still was a chance that Erwin might be alive and I was right. Erwin was badly injured and dying. I made the most obvious decision, which was to save Erwin. That's when Eren started begging. Mikasa shot at me with her sword when I hit Eren to get him out of the way. I just... Felt weak.

Who was I to choose that their best friend, a person who was almost like a brother to them, should die? Even after all that, I knew that I had to save Erwin because I promised you that I will keep him safe. Hanji came later and took Mikasa off me, explained them that it has to be Erwin. That's when Eren mentioned how Armin wanted to see the ocean. I realized that both Erwin and Armin had dreams that made them go on. I still decided to bring Erwin back to life. Just as I was about to push the needle in his hand, he shot his hand up and muttered with his dying breath, "Teacher... How'd y... find out that they don't exist?". I remembered something that Kenny said at that time. That everyone has to be drunk on something in order to live.

It matched with something Erwin told me earlier, that he wanted to die many times but it was the mystery of the basement that kept him alive. If he knew what was inside the basement, he probably wouldn't want to be alive like this anymore. And, that would be a loss for humanity nonetheless. Armin on the other hand had goals that was far from reach. I made the decision that felt would be best for humanity and the safety of you two. On the view point of a captain, I have no regrets, but, in a personal view point, I regret this decision and will continue to do so all my life." he explained.

For once, I think I understood why he did it. "Levi, I understand why you did it. I think I will forgive you too, but, give me some time. I need to think it all over, and convince my mind to forgive you. It really wasn't your fault but I lost someone dear to me. I just, need some space till we get married." I replied. "You... You won't leave me? We are still getting married?" Levi asked, his voice and face showing surprise. "Yes. I won't leave you and we will get married on the date we fixed. However, I want to stay alone till that day. I need to give myself the time to forgive you." I explained.

"(Y/N), thank you so much for reconsidering... I don't deserve to be forgiven. I'm sorry..." Levi muttered. "It's okay Levi. By the way, how much are you drinking?" I asked him. "Oh, just every night." he answered with a smile. "Don't drink that much. It's bad for you. You look older." I told him. "Okay. I wont." he told me, holding my hand. I didn't know what came upon me because I got up and hugged him. He was still sitting down, his head was on my chest. "I'm so sorry.." he muttered. "It's okay. We will be okay." I told him, caressing his hair. He hugged be back in a few moments and I knew that I would never regret this decision of not leaving him.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE: (Y/N) WILL GET MARRIED IN THE NEXT CHAPTER! Sorry, I might have mentioned in chapter 18 that (Y/N) will have her kid after 6-7 chapters but I decided to give the characters a bit more development before going into that. So, (Y/N) won't have her kid in a few more chapters.]

To be continued...

Taglist: @reality-is-often-disappointing, @kingtamakimurder

[cowtale-utau]

Another thought has occured, sorry! Do they monsters have their own laws? Like ones separate from the standard laws?

So, some of this is based of things that felt right culturally for Monsters to me, and aspects of my own personal code, as well as what to me seems to be basic common sense. This doesn't really have a whole lot of order, as I just typed as I thought of things.

They kept most of their laws from the Underground (classic) although they study American law, to simplify things should they choose to venture out. Crime is notable more rare among Monsters than their human counterparts. Their natures tend to err them away from it. While the Fells have some learned behaviors that cause issues, and some of the Horror Monsters still struggle with control, for the most part, crime isn't something they're inclined towards.

One thing of note, monsters have an odd concept of communal property. Clothing, knick-knacks, etc, are all personal objects. But things like tools and supplies are all, for the most part, “communal”. If you need a shovel, grab the nearest one, then set it back out when you're done. Got some sewing to do? Ask for a machine and whoever has one will give it to you.

Monsters never hunt for sport. Many do not hunt at all, but it is illegal to kill something for the sake of killing it. For food, for hide, and for defense, are the only acceptable reasons, and you must makes use, or find some else who can make use, of every part of the animal. There is no allowance for waste. The only time parts may be discarded is if they are truly unusable (rotted meat, burnt hide, etc).

What one does with their own body is their own business, and is not for others to decide.

One should not encroach upon the freedoms and life of another. If their chosen life in no impacts you, then it is for them to decide. Should another's chosen lifestyle directly impact you, you may stop them. If they continue, bring the issue before a council.

To harm a child is unforgivable.

Defend yourself and others as needed, but do not make unnecessary aggression. Death will be forgiven if no other option exists.

Should you encounter someone who is in need of aid, and you are able, provide it. If you are not able, seek one who is. In practice this just means you're not allowed to just ignore someone who's injured/dying. Do what you can to help.

Justice is handled exclusively case by case. There is no “this is what happens every time no matter the circumstance”. There are certain standards and guidelines in place, but the one making the decisions can choose to stray from those if they feel they should. Decisions are often made by a small “council”, made of a mixture of those in positions of power, and peers of both parties. Monsters are by nature compassionate and forgiving, so even the injured part tends to be more fair than a human would. On very rare occasion, has the need for the Judge arisen, but it has happened, and while they generally don't enjoy the duty, any of the Judges will answer the call. This generally only happens in cases where someone has died and cannot speak their part.

I have no idea if this is coherent, but eh. This is what I've got for now. Monster society runs pretty well similar in practice to human society, but with more communal sharing, and stronger aversion to waste.

[365daysoftododeku]

13th March 2019

Author: CrzA

Admin’s Note: The second part of Bunnyzuku by @crzangel​! For the first part, check out her work from March 8th!

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Never Me Anybunny Like You (Part 2)

In all honesty, this is probably the stupidest thing Izuku could be doing right now. The Prince had it all right, and now he’s just pushing his luck by going back to his ways. And it’s not like he has an excuse—not that any one he might have would justify this—, it’s simply not something he should be doing. It’s an invasion of privacy, really. And he knows that it’s wrong, of course he does, shame is eating away at his insides this very moment, as it had been since the very first day he happened upon the edge of the castle’s private gardens, but there is just this strange pull. Because that makes it sound better. He can bet all stalkers use a similar line—it's fate, don’t you see? We are meant to be!

Izuku shudders. It’s not like that…

It would be a lie to say Izuku didn’t know about the Prince before. Every one of his kind knew him, his father had a bit of a reputation and it was just assumed that the Prince would follow in the man’s footsteps; cruelty, war, destruction, all in the name of a search for more power. He is a king, isn’t that power enough? Such greed for more had led to many years of strained relations between Izuku’s kind and the Tyrant King (as he’s so lovingly called by most of his people).

When Izuku stumbled out of the forest on another one of his narrow escapes from Kacchan’s angry clutches and right into the grounds behind the walls, his heart had shot right to his throat as soon as he had laid eyes on the Prince’s dual-coloured hair. He managed to jump up to one of the tree’s branches before the prince even turned in his direction, hidden away from view by the foliage around him. It certainly helped that both his hair and clothes had a similar shade of green, otherwise he may have still stuck out like a sore thumb.

In retrospect, he should have just walked—or run—away when he realised where he was, even more so when he saw that he had company. But Izuku had always been a curious bun, and he had never really met anyone from the royal family. All he knew was what his elders told him and all the other children when they were young. And King Yagi was a kind and nurturing man, he wouldn’t sow the seeds of ill-will towards someone who had never done them any harm.

All he really knew, however, was that King Todoroki wanted to drive them out of the forest so that he could secure an easier passage to the kingdom he meant to conquer but never could. He had seen the man storming out of their court with murder in his eyes, had felt the aura of hostility emanating off of him as he walked past Izuku and back to his castle. Everything else, he had just been told; that his children were sure to be just as unforgiving, with such a man’s influence growing up.

But Izuku didn’t know that to be true. He was wary of anyone from the royal family, no doubt about it, but he didn’t want to make conjectures about someone he had never even laid eyes on. He was so curious what the King’s youngest was really like, if the rumours of his equally cruel demeanour were true. The King had three other children, all of them older, and yet he was the one he had chosen to make the Crown Prince. Everyone said that he must have been the one the King saw most potential in. And if that was the case, it couldn’t mean anything good.

Izuku wanted to know the truth, see for himself if this prince was just as menacing as everyone said he was.

Just one look at the young man’s face and Izuku would never believe there was a single evil bone in his body. The slightly confused furrow of his brow at the sound of the leaves rustling held no malice, no threat, and when he deemed that the sound was just his imagination, the softness of his expression was breath-taking. Birds chirped all around him, some even landing on his shoulder, completely unafraid, and if Izuku knows anything is that he can trust animal’s judgements.

The way he cared for the plants in the garden was so gentle too, giving them all the nurturing they needed to grow big, healthy and beautiful. He would caress the flower’s petals sometimes, smiling so tenderly, as if they held treasures only he knew the existence of, and perhaps they did. It was obvious how much this garden meant to him from the look on his face alone.

Then there was the way he talked to all the little critters that found their way into the gardens too, how he would sometimes hold them if they allowed it and how he always carried some food on him for whichever ones were willing to take it. Everything he did was careful, gentle, kind. It was hard to even believe that the Prince and the King were actually related.

Though Izuku supposes that he should know better than anyone that blood does not dictate someone’s behaviour. After all, he would never abandon his mother, much less someone he claimed to have fallen in love with or any child they may have together.

And Izuku was fascinated by the Prince, by everything he did. When he left the gardens, Izuku had lingered a while longer, not really knowing why. And then a few days passed and he couldn’t stop thinking about him, about his gentle kindness, that soft smile on his lips that made him so unbearably beautiful. Izuku wanted to know more, he wanted to know him and his story, so he kept coming back in the hopes of someday gathering the courage to talk to him, to make his presence known, introduce himself.

Of course, that never happened. Because Izuku may do many reckless and crazy things, but telling a prince that he has been silently admiring him from afar isn’t one of them. And the longer he did it, the more terrified he became of being found out. If it had been that first time or maybe even the third, it would have been easier to explain, but a few times over the course of two weeks became an almost daily routine and after a little over a month he’d tipped the scale from curious to downright creepy, he’s sure of it.

And he’s ashamed, he is, so devastatingly ashamed, but he doesn’t have the guts to come clean. The incident made that very clear. Kacchan turned him into an actual rabbit and he had instinctively run towards the Prince without even thinking. And then he picked Izuku up, and held him close, and he was so warm and his arms so comfortable. How could he possibly resist nuzzling into his chest, burrowing in his arms, reach up to touch his adorable nose with his own?

And then… And then he kissed his forehead. For a split second Izuku felt like he was on cloud nine, which in and of itself should have been a red flag, but then Kacchan’s spell was broken by that very gesture and of course he doesn’t know how to shut up. That had always worked out in his favour—that is, if his goal was to get into copious amounts of trouble. The Prince is smart, how could he not be, it was to be expected that he would be able to put two and two together from Izuku’s panicked ramblings and figure out the encounter wasn’t entirely due to chance.

Somehow, he’d managed to escape before being fully confronted, but Izuku must have a death wish. Or at the very least he is extremely stupid. Because here he is again, after only three days, waiting for the Prince to come by the gardens as he does every day. Except he should be here by now—Izuku realises how concerning it is that he even knows that—but he is nowhere to be found, and a cold feeling spreads in the pit of Izuku’s stomach.

“Waiting for something?” A voice sounds from right behind Izuku and he jumps into the air from the fright, nearly missing the branch he had been perched on on his way down.

“Holy Bunn Might, my ticker is going faster than a professional hopper on a carrot race!”

His eyes widen as soon as they land on his company, one fiery red eyebrow climbing up into the Prince’s hairline as an amused smirk stretches across his thin lips. A small high-pitched noise climbs out of Izuku’s throat and he slips on the branch, ready to fall to his death only to have an arm wrapped around his waist to prevent him from tipping over. If his heart was beating fast before, then it is certainly trying to beat right out of his chest now, the Prince’s face so close Izuku can feel his breath wafting against his cheeks, surprisingly cool and wonderfully fresh. Just like when he had held him before, he smells like snow freshly fallen from the sky, and he doesn’t know how someone can capture the scent so perfectly and yet here he is. Izuku can only stare, dumbstruck.

“What’s wrong? Rabbit got your tongue?” Prince Todoroki quips, gently flicking one of Izuku’s ears.

With another disgruntled noise, he immediately pushes away from him, jumping to the ground and getting ready to hop his way back to his home in the heart of the forest when he hears a thud right behind him. Before he can tell himself to ignore it and just start running, the Prince settles between him and his escape route, clearly much more aware of what Izuku is capable of this time around. Surely it would be stupid to attempt a similar move, and yet…

Just as Izuku is vaulting over the Prince’s head once again, he catches his foot, upsetting his momentum and causing him to come crashing face-first onto the fluffy grass beneath. At least it was a soft landing, but it doesn’t change the fact that there is a royal currently sitting on his back and he can’t move no matter how much he thrashes.

“Ah, tiddlywinks.” Izuku huffs in defeat.

“Now, I don’t suppose you’re spying on me to report back to your superiors, otherwise you would have little more to tell them other than the fact that I like to spend my afternoons surrounded by nature before I retire for the night. Unless you mean to kidnap me, though I would believe they would send someone more competent if that were the case.”

Izuku may have been offended by that comment if not for the fact that he really brought it upon himself and the Prince has an excellent point. Sighing heavily, Izuku lets his ears droop forward, covering his eyes with them.

“I’m sorry…” He mutters miserably.

“What for?”

“Watching you… I know it’s bad and I shouldn’t have done it but you’re just so…” The Prince hums, a hint of curiosity in his tone as Izuku drifts off. Bracing himself for the worst, he swallows nervously before adding “—captivating?”

“That’s one of the nicest things anyone has said about me.” He replies, and Izuku can’t quite tell if he’s being serious or not. “But you are right when you say you shouldn’t have done it. I don’t exactly like being watched, that’s one of the reasons I go to the gardens to begin with.”

“I truly am sorry…”

“That’s alright. You sound sincere so I accept your apology.” Feeling the weight lifting off his back, both literally and figuratively, Izuku almost jumps in joy at the Prince’s words, until he notices the tilt of his head, the mischievous glint in his eye, and he gulps, casually dusting himself off. “On one condition.”

Izuku’s heart sinks right down to his stomach and a cold shiver crawls up his spine. He should just turn on his heel and run, he should just go and never return before this whole situation gets even more out of hand. But when has Izuku been known for making wise decisions anyway? He owes the Prince proper compensation for his invasion, it’s only polite to listen to his demand…

“Next times you come around, you actually come and sit with me. I must admit, you have me intrigued.”

“W-what if I don’t come around any longer, then?” Izuku tries.

“That’s up to you. I can’t force you to do anything.” Izuku would certainly beg to differ. “But something tells me I will see more of you in the future. I would most definitely enjoy the company of someone who doesn’t serve me or my old man, for once.”

There, in his mismatched eyes, Izuku sees it, clear as day: a vulnerable boy, lonely and sad, trying to reach out to someone who might treat him as an equal and not as a prince, not as a means to an end or a burden they were tasked to bear. His ears stick to his head once more, tears welling up in his eyes as he sniffles for a moment, turning away. He shouldn’t, right? But he just wants a friend, is that so wrong?

“I will… see you sometime soon.” Izuku whispers, reaching for one of his ears to shyly stroke it in front of his face. “C-could I call you Todoroki-kun, then? Prince Todoroki or Your Highness just feels strange… Where I come from titles don’t really matter.”

“Sure.” Todoroki smiles for a single heartbeat, and Izuku’s own skips. “Midoriya.”

He remembered my name. Oh, wrinkly whiskers he remembered my name.

Nodding stiffly, Izuku rounds Todoroki and tries his hardest to resist the urge to start jumping to the time of his heartbeats. He comes to the conclusion later that bolting in the direction of his home is only marginally less embarrassing.

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[josiesimblr]

Leader Haven: Woman...can you not see how much I worship you?

Constance murmurs: We’re only meant to worship the Great Creators, Asher.

Leader Haven impatient: I am the Chosen One, the Favored One. I know that one day- my name will be spoken alongside the Great Creators themselves! 

Constance gasps.

Constance: Asher...comparing yourself to our Gods...that- that is sacrilege. That is an unforgivable sin. You are not a God.

Leader Haven: I am chosen by the Gods and that is equal to the same thing. The decisions I make are divine. And similar to the kings of the Middle Ages, I rule this community by divine right. I will eventually rule all of the compounds. This was revealed to me in a holy vision. I have the power of the Gods, Constance. I know it’s hard for you to absorb. And I don’t expect you too. I only expect you to obey me and love me. 

Constance was speechless. She’d noticed the growing look of mania in her husband’s eyes, a power hungry mania that was slowly overtaking him. Now, he was comparing himself to the Gods!

And his love for her. It had always been a strong love but now it was bordering on suffocating. It was causing him to harm his own child, just to have Constance to himself.

 It scared her. It all scared her, scared her to her very soul.

Constance whispers: I will prepare your office for your visitor.

Leader Haven: I’ll receive him out here. My office is only for important people. *intense* Come into my arms, my darling. You are my everything, Constance. I’d burn this entire compound to the ground for you, I would create a new world where all would bow at your feet, Constance. And mine.

[sprigsofheather]

the darkness

i’ve given in to the darkness lately.

it’s a darkness that enshrouds me and scowls at me before it grabs me by the scruff of my neck and drags me down to its depths, and i can’t breathe, and i can’t see, and it feels like there’s no way out of the black hole i’m in.

but it’s the darkness i’ve always known, it’s a place i’ve called home for a lot of my life, a wee child, before i grew old enough to learn how to pretend everything was fine -

i adorned the black hole with fairy lights and fashioned a façade of being alright, a plight for healing disguised with disingenuous meaning but i faked it till i made it - somewhere, at least.

but i’m so scared, i’m so fucking scared of the feeling and so severely wounded that it’s easier not to care that i’m bleeding, bleeding from my roots and into the offshoots breaking into a million pieces.

you can understand this, right? not even the brightest light i can muster can synthesise the fragments of my soul back together - before they all fall apart again.

and i fall apart so easily, wilting like a flower, a blessing and a curse... so i ask God for help but my faith has been wavering so he hasn’t been listening lately, and i haven’t been listening either, really.

i just listen to the most evil voices in my head that are telling me that being in love means pain - it’s the story i know best, from the guidelines that were set for me growing up. i’m still a kid when it comes to love.

but i learned over time that these voices are maligned, so i’ve been known to just seek the sweet songs that can be sung into my mind, but the sugar was saccharine and rotted my teeth and i engorged on what was good like it was a fucking drug sucking from its teat like i could never get enough,

i can never get enough, it’s never enough, i’ll admit it: i’m an addict, a hedonist, a junkie, wasted. wasting away. a life to live for seems so far away.

and i smoke to hide the pain in my chest, the pain in my heart that never fails to ache. i feel like if i can inflict the pain myself with another sort of poison, it’ll be the antidote to the pain that’s already there. it’s a pain that i’ve chosen, and if i choose to hurt myself at least i have control over what hurts me. because i’m scared of being hurt by others because it’s hurt before. 

it’s hurt so much before.

***

‘we are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars’ oscar wilde once said, and the gutter i find myself in is cold and damp and unforgiving. i submerge my fingers and toes in the black sludge of the drain just to feel something. just some sort of something. just to feel like something is there for me. a sick sort of comfort tends to me.

and i clench my hand into a fist and the sludge spills out and stains my wrist the colour of the most pained parts of my heart. black.

i feel like i’ve clutched onto the hands of my most venomous demons, but i only need to look up to the night sky to see the stars of hope shine onto me, eternally, and to see you there with your hand, outstretched for me. healing awaits me, angels sing for me.

but your hand has been there for me less and less because i’ve kept denying you and pushing you away. slapping the hand away instead of cradling it to my chest. and the angels now sing their song of warning before they fly back to heaven, because i’m been waiting to be forgiven without being willing to repent.

because i choose the demons over you, almost every time. the devil is tempting me and i’m confused and scared because he’s wearing a mask of your face, and it’s fucking terrifying, but it’s what feels like home... 

and the cut is so deep, it seems, that when love threatens to flower it overpowers my nervous system and the wound re-opens and bleeds and bleeds and it just doesn’t seem to stop... i thought the wound was healing, but only now am i just feeling some of the pain that i haven’t felt for years. time to tend to the past and cry the tears of a wounded girl, a wounded woman, a wounded soul fraught with fears.

***

the morning after i met you, i left the sofa where we slept together and went to my room and cried. my heart hurt and so i cried; my heart hurt because it sensed the possibility of love and immediately began to throb with pain. and that was arguably the thing that hurt the most, that in the acknowledgement of something so beautiful and divine, the possibility of the greatest thing we have - the possibility to love - that my demons should smirk at me and show me no mercy.

here’s your pain motherfucker, and you’re going to feel it. no chance of being in love until you deal with it. let’s have it here, right now, whilst he’s here with you. show him the bitch you can be and see if he still wants to be with you. and serves you right if he leaves you. 

that’s what they say... but i know it’s not true. i know i’m deserving of love but i’m hurt so i’m hurting and hurting you...

so i take responsibility for the pain i have caused, for the disgraceful way i have used my words... our words are our weapon, a double-edged sword - so easy to protect, but so easy to cause harm. i’ve done what i thought was right, but i admit that i’ve been wrong. and i forgive myself above all for being human.

i used to delude myself with the illusion that i could be all light and no dark. i used to think i had nothing but good intentions for anything and anyone, and i was wrong. it’s wrong, anyway, to believe that we can be nothing but beacons of good. i’d misunderstood the nature of being human, and i’ll admit i had an unrealistic expectation of myself for being more than who i was, being more than anyone around me, more than i ever could be, or anyone could be.

because if i was perfect no-one could see the ugliness that lies beneath me. and i did a good job of decorating a broken soul with extragance and embellishment, and now when i’m confronted with myself and my honesty i can only tell a story. i’ve dramatised my life into an art, a tragedy, a comedy.

and our love story is gothic, it’s no coincidence we both like macbeth, and that was one of the first interests we shared. remember back then? our love was still pure but now it’s been tainted and dragged through the mud. an innocent flower that’s been trampled on, its purpose misunderstood. and the serpent came out from under’t and spewed pure venom...

but that’s the thing with flowers - they’re ephemeral, they don’t last forever. that’s what’s beautiful about them really, how they bring us joy for a fleeting moment. and appreciating that joy in the moment of life is the experience of love, but clinging onto what’s dead will only hurt us more. 

and lest we forget that flowers will always grow. they die quickly, but they grow again... maybe it’s time to let what needs to die away to die away, and to plant the seeds for something new to blossom. and let’s nurture that. mother nature is on our side, she’ll ensure our love will not be forgotten.

flowers, remember, are delicate. i need the gentle warmth from the sun, the nourishment from my roots beneath me, the replenishment of the rain. an existing set of conditions put in place to ensure i thrive. i’m only now starting to realise what’s best for me and what’s not, but i’ve survived this whole time... all i can say is that this flower knows how to regenerate quickly when she needs to, and some seeds and seasons are better than others.

definitely.

and after confession i can see the glint of light, now, looking up from the gutter. i’ve loosened the chains on my neck, and i’ve accepted some of the help from my angels, and now it doesn’t suffocate to look up anymore. the stars are slowly starting to come out, in my mind, in my emotions, and now i’m starting to see that they were always already there.

even if the clouds cover them, even if the night sky is blanketed with black. even when i was blinded by illusions and i believed they weren’t there... the stars are always there, and we know that, we have trust that they remain, even when they’re unseen. that’s a lesson between us we need to learn... that hope and light are our beacon, and it’s always there, even when we believe it’s not. even when everything from our past makes us believe that it’s not. it’s there, it really is. and we must follow that north star.

july 2020

[fineillsignup]

I have been bothered countless times by the canon sasu/saku fans who continuously insist that this ship is 'beautiful' because of sakura's 'unconditional love' for sasuke. It has always bothered me for obvious reason but I can never articulate my arguments into words, when it's /clearly/ wrong. Can you explain how Sakura's love in the canon pages is unhealthy? I really like your explanations and I would like your input on this too I guess.

ayyyyy so I have been letting my inbox pile up (that’s why I turned off anon asks, btw) and I’ve finally become guilt-ridden enough to start going through the backlog. Here’s my current earliest ask, from like, May or something like that. IDK if you will see this, anon! I hope you do.

This is a really good question, so good that I also find this problem difficult to articulate. It’s extra difficult because the concept of “unconditional love” is one applied to many relationships in this series (romantic, platonic, familial) and it’s difficult to talk about one without bringing in the others, either in comparison, or in cause and effect, or sometimes other things. Plus there’s the question of what unconditional love is, whether it can be abusive or enabling, whether it excuses or justifies certain acts, etc.

Like let’s just take “people who unconditionally love Sasuke” as a starting category, right off the bat you have at least Karin, Itachi, Naruto, Sakura (I alphabetized because by God people will be petty enough to argue about which one I put first otherwise). Now I’m sure people will also argue that one or more or these doesn’t really unconditionally love Sasuke (because they don’t love the “real Sasuke,” or because their love isn’t love but infatuation, etc). But I ain’t got time for that today. I got 29 asks in my inbox, people!

So, taking it for granted that all four of these people unconditionally love Sasuke, they all express it in very different ways. Now, I’m going to take the least controversial of the four (at least as regards the genuineness of his love for Sasuke), Itachi. Itachi may have loved Sasuke unconditionally, but he also ruined his life. He’s not fully or solely morally culpable for ruining Sasuke’s life–I’d say he bears very little culpability for the massacre, a llarge share of culpability for later tortures of Sasuke and not revealing the truth until post-mortem, and a share of culpability for allowing Orochimaru to get his hooks in Sasuke–but without regard at all to his moral culpability for his acts, his acts fucked up Sasuke in a big way. (Some people might say that Itachi couldn’t have acted any other way without harming Sasuke more, I’ll succinctly say that’s horseshit. Twenty-nine asks to go, people!)

So unconditional love does not mean always doing what’s best for the object of one’s love. Much less does it mean doing what’s best for oneself.

Unconditional love and unearned mercy/concern/forgiveness can be very beautiful. Naruto crying for Gaara when he’s still 95% Shukaku = beautiful. Sakura hugging Sasuke in the Forest of Death to stop his rampage = beautiful. Dying Karin telling Sasuke not to hurt Sakura (who, by all appearances, at that point was preparing to kill Karin) = beautiful. Like, there are tons of examples of that in the series and that’s good.

But unconditional love can also be “fine, I’ll slaughter dozens of my relatives, some of them totally innocent of any wrongdoing, as long as you let my most beloved relative live”. And that’s… not good.

With Sasu//Saku, the major problem I see is that Sakura is only ever discouraged from her love with Sasuke when that love is perceived as a threat to Naruto and the village. Naruto’s promise to her to bring back Sasuke is compared by Sai to Danzo’s curse mark. Yikes. Shizune points out that Naruto wants to save Sasuke for his own reasons, which is acknowledged, but Shikamaru then doubles down that this is why they have to deal with Sasuke themselves, to prevent a cascade of war from the Cloud killing Sasuke, Sasuke’s friends killing Cloud ninja, Cloud ninja killing them, etc etc.

Sound familiar? It should. It’s essentially the same justification for the Uchiha massacre: we must eliminate the threat to stability, the threat that promises to launch a ripple effect towards total war.

Poor Sakura. All her training, and all her precious people, (except Naruto and Kakashi, who, let me remind you, once again fucked off and left her behind without a word, so much for teamwork), are telling her she’s gotta convince Naruto to kill Sasuke. Sakura knows Naruto better than any of them of course so she knows that’s a non-starter. What does she do? What can she do?

What she does is fuck up right royally, and since she’s not a good looking male character this is unforgivable, even though no real long-term bad consequence occurs as a result of her series of fuck-ups. (Remove any of her individual fuck-ups or all of them in this arc, and the arc still is going to end basically the same, with Sasuke escaping and resolving to take the EMS; moreover nobody on the Konoha side is long-term damaged by her actions.)

The arc ends with Sakura explicitly saying that she has to believe that Sasuke and Naruto will work it out themselves–without her. Basically, this arc is a big “up yours” to the concept that Sakura, Kakashi, or anyone but Naruto will have anything to do with Sasuke’s redemption. Teamwork? I don’t know her.

What this means is that Sakura’s love for Sasuke may be unconditional, but it’s also essentially irrelevant. Everything is irrelevant except Naruto, the Child of Prophecy, the reincarnation of Asura, soul-brother of Sasuke, blah blah blah fate fate fate bullshit.

The narrative is so zealous about keeping all the plot agency with Naruto that it can’t help but leave Sakura in the cold and dark, which makes her continuous devotion to Sasuke inexplicable. Naruto is given an “alien reincarnation made me do it” explanation (which also invalidates him, imo) but it does even worse to Sakura; she basically wandered into this Immortal Drama, but she’s just an ordinary girl. She’s not in the prophecy; she’s just incidental.

So this sets up a huge meta imbalance between Sasuke, Central Antagonist, soul-brother of Naruto the Chosen One, the long-prophecied reincarnation who would make peace and stop the cycle of blah blah blah bullshit; and Sakura, nice girl who tries hard. You’d have to do a huge amount of legwork to bring the two into balance post-699, and Kishimoto doesn’t do any of it. Instead, Sakura is just devoted to Sasuke, as surely as the sun rises and sets, just because, no matter what he does. Sasuke doesn’t have to earn it or maintain it or even be present to receive it.

So yeah, it’s unhealthy. Blah. I don’t know if I articulated this any better, Anon, but I tried.

[insanescriptist]

If Xanxus died and was reborn as Uzumaki Naruto, who would he assemble as his new guardians?

Oh wow, if you were expecting cheer and good manners then you’d be disappointed. Because Xanxus growing up in Naruto’s childhood… where child soldiers are the norm, the government is a tyrannical lie, history is subject and genocide happened in the middle of town.

Sarutobi Hiruzen sighed, looking at the young ninja of the leaf. Per usual, there was a permanent scowl, a sense of impatient hostility and restrained violence. The feathers and beads in his hair really weren’t worth noticing other than the fact that he wore them and made him look wild, especially in conjunction with the whiskers. It would be more intimidating a look if the whiskered cheeks were less round with childhood still clinging to his face.

Uzumaki Naruto took after his father in looks and intelligence and his mother in terms of chakra capacity and had her drive in face of adversity.

His temper and general personality however seemed to been shaped by the less than ideal treatment of the villagers. Naruto had a suspicious, nasty mind that didn’t trust easily, if at all. Hiruzen had jonin that trusted more easily. More to the point, his personality was blunt, coarse and unforgiving in general. The less said about how short a fuse his temper had the better; he could control it, but training grounds afterward had needed remodeled when he finally let it loose. Some property of his chakra could cause immense destruction; the sort that seemingly removed trees and training equipment from existence and not by turning it to ash.

The young ninja had graduated early and proved himself well enough to have earned a vest. Currently just a chunin vest, but Hiruzen didn’t want the young ninja to be so distant from his age-cohort in rank for all that they were recent graduates. Most of those that Naruto spent time with were the more specialized tokujo.

Part of his reluctance might be from the fact that the last time he had promoted and trusted someone so much at such an early age had gone on to kill all his clan. And the others that had been promoted so early while capable ninja were not the most whole human beings.

“What’cha got old man?” The blond drawled. He sounded bored. Obviously he was looking for a mission and was impatient for one.

“What are you in the mood for?” Hiruzen asked, curious.

There’s a pause and consideration; Naruto would take any assigned, but had an affinity for the bloodier, more clandestine missions than his general temperament would suggest.

“Escort, if I can have my pick of people preferably.” In other words, he wanted to be out of the village and around people he wanted to be around for at least a week. Choosing Genma was a good sign, Raido meant that someone was probably going to die, Anko would be a sign to expect moderate property damage and there were worse signs.

“Asuma-sensei, when are we going to take a C-rank? Sasuke-kun’s team would have if their third member hadn’t come down with the flu. I want to prove my worth as a kunoichi!”

“Them.”

And that was the worst sign. Playfulness.

“Hey! I know you! I’ve seen you around my dad sometimes!”

“Uzumaki Naruto. Chunin of three years. Your team and your sensei will be with me on a C-rank of the Hokage’s choice.”

“How troublesome.” The young Nara groused.

Hiruzen mentally agreed with the young ninja; Uzumaki Naruto was angling for something and the best that Hiruzen could figure that to be was Hokage. Few other chunin had rotated through all of the village’s various departments such as the barrier squad, the police force that was instituted after the death of all but two Uchiha, the code-breakers and included a small stint in the academy as a teacher’s aide while one of the chunin was out for maternity leave.

That sort of rotation and dedication gave Uzumaki Naruto a basic understanding of most of the village. The best thing that came from that was a lot of connections around the village who thought well of his dedication and skills and the fact that Naruto actually had a friend his own age: Kurama Yakumo. Who was Team 7′s third member that had been laid out with the flu.

Yakumo had a prodigious genjutsu talent but had a frail body. She had been given to Kakashi as a student in light of Kurenai’s earlier failure with Yakumo as a student -the failure that Uzumaki Naruto knew of because he had been a friendly acquaintance of Kurenai’s back when she was teaching at the academy as a chunin. They even had nicknames for each other, although the meaning of the names was lost on Hiruzen and all observers.

Kakashi had been for failing this team as well but Sasuke’s decision to feed his teammate bound to the log had given Kakashi the sign that his team would care and fight for each other with all the strength the will of fire could give. It showed that Uchiha Sasuke still had empathy for others and a disregard for stupid orders. The sort of stupid orders that would be killing all your relatives.

Seeing no harm in humoring this decision, Hiruzen agreed with Naruto’s not-request.

“C-rank to Wave. Escorting Tazuna back home and protecting the bridge until it’s finished.”

Izzy accidentally fic’d.

Storm: Tenten or Neji

Sun: Lee? This is where lack of characters strikes. Because not many shown strike me as Suns. Hana? Genma?

Lightning: Ino

Rain: Genma or Raido

Mist: Yakumo

Cloud: Anko

Generally speaking, I’d prefer Xanxus/Naruto not to bond with peers aka Naruto’s age-mates. Because Xanxus/Naruto is mentally older/more experienced. Also a lot more damaged in some ways. But that’s where Naruto’s limited cast of characters acts up. Hence Yakumo the Mist, Yakumo being from an anime filler.

Storms are all about aggressive attack: Neji and Tenten both are like that.

Suns are considered ‘flashy’ but well, Anko is eccentric. Not flashy like Lee and Gai. Hana is understated flashy but three hounds compared to the usual one… Also Genma is pretty and does flashy things with senbon sometime.

Ino is the exception to the ‘not age-mates’ rule if only because the nature of her Clan techniques means a lot more mental exp from a lot of people. Later anyway. At the moment, teasing her is like teasing the shark and is fun.

Rains are supposed to be a calming influence. Genma is one because on a team between Gai and high-strung Ebisu someone had to be the calm one. Raido because I like Raido and he has a sword and specializes in assassination.

Mist is Yakumo. Where obviously the Kurama Clan has Mist Flames as their ‘kekkai genkai.’

Clouds don’t really care about social convention, so much as getting what they want. Which is Anko all over.

Xanxus/Naruto can still use Wrath Flames but anyone that asks gets ‘special chakra’ or ‘a twist to yin release’ as an answer. Which is true in a fashion.

Xanxus/Naruto is rather sympathetic to fox; points out it could be worse. Fox could be frozen. Not exactly best buds but moderately friendly.

Other things aka plot in case someone wants to adopt. Because I’m not going to have time to write this or thing about doing so any time soon.

Wave Mission is coached to Team 10 as ‘part of my eval to special-jonin’ and ‘revised some of the qualifications needed to promote in light of past events.’

One of the Demon bros get captured by Team 10, the other by Xanxus/Naruto. In the fight against Zabuza, Zabuza’s sword suffers a malfunction against Wrath Flames. Poor sword. Zabuza switches it to a ninjutsu fight. Against a shinobi who can just obliterate techniques with Wrath. It doesn’t go well. Haku intervenes. Asuma is third-wheeling like a pro.

Gato catches a case of death before Zabuza on the bridge. Gato’s minions then catch a case of death; it spreads fast. It even gets Zabuza because Asuma’s previously wounded him.

Haku isn’t happy. Haku is then given the choice to watch over Wave or come to the Leaf and join. Otherwise Xanxus/Naruto is happy to kidnap him, since Xanxus/Naruto’s keeping the sword so some shithead doesn’t steal it and put it to dishonorable use or something.

Xanxus gains Haku as a minion. Haku is a Rain, but lack of killer instinct puts him out of running of being Xanxus’ Rain, okay?

Ends up as a security peon in 2nd task. Clash with Orochimaru. Part of the Forest of Death ends up gone. Ends up getting bitten but well, Wrath Flames. Cursed Seal gets burned up. Doing so later to Anko has them bonding; it’s not a tight one but still enough.

Jiraiya shows up in Konoha but Xanxus is Not Amused. Jiraiya Earns Grudge. Hence why Jiraiya is not Sun-candidate.

Don’t care for the genin match-ups at the moment. Just know that Yakumo becomes chunin with Shika and Ino actually manages to progress to the finals by luck.

Gaara and Shukaku start acting up and well, not much stands up to Wrath. And well, demon in forest means no holding back. Xanxus mentally scars Shukaku into behaving and somehow Gaara finds sanity. Xanxus reveals that he plans to be Hokage one day. Is odd conversation.

(Xanxus is only a little miffed that Gaara’s the Kazekage at like fourteen. A little. Actually a lot pissed.)

Anyway, Jiraiya takes Xanxus to find Tsunade because strong shinobi needs to protect Kyuubi-container that can vaporize just about everything. Yay. Logic. Grudge grows stronger.

Also not impressed with Tsunade’s pity party of like twenty years. Because what would she do with the position? Rack up her debts more and send Konoha to bankruptcy?

Let’s just leave it as Xanxus has Plans. He just can’t do any of them because he’s twelve, freshly a special jonin and will be promoted to jonin for his 14th birthday.

Basically manipulates her into accepting the position. Because a ninja that can mentally scar a bijuu is good like that. Not sure how Tsunade’s fear of blood is dealt with but it is because that’s bullshit and Xanxus calls her out on it.

Anyway, due to Grudge, Xanxus is not letting Jiraiya take him off for two years doing fuck knows what. Ends up as Tsunade’s chosen successor from almost the get-go of Tsunade’s reign; which means dealing with lots of politics, renovating systems and diplomacy etc. Because benevolent tyrant position of power or not, you still have minions with power to keep content so they’ll do what you say willingly.

Chosen antagonist of these two years is going to be Danzo. Because no creepy seal on Sasuke but that doesn’t make Sasuke less of a person of interest. Because fancy eyes. Oh and somehow Sakura becomes less of a waste of space. Probably better than her part 2 canon self because ‘let’s send Sasuke away for his safety’ and Xanxus is nearby to keep her head on straight.

Although I should point out that Gaara puts up more of a fight against Akatsuki with Shukaku’s cooperation. It’s amazing what a little mental scarring to do. Or a lot. Deidara’s dick move is still dick move.

But anyway. Sasori’s puppets against Wrath. Wrath wins and then goes after Deidara. Because guess who has guns now bitch?

Deidara loses arm. Then he loses head. Gaara is revived.

The whole business with Orochimaru, Sai and Kabuto doesn’t happen because it’s not Sakura who kills Sasori and so gets ‘rewarded’ with the info. Sai is busy learning how to be human again because fuck Danzo that’s why. He dead, dead, dead. Dead.

Anyway, Sasuke gets back with Jiraiya because Jiraiya follows no schedule. Is the only genin of his year now because that’s hilarious.

Anyway, things progress. Zombie brothers get taken down, jinchuriki get their bijuu extracted, Sasuke kills Itachi and doesn’t end up in Madara’s hands. Jiraiya still dies but there’s no successor to the toad contract. Whoops. Kisame gets to hold off Xanxus and Yakumo and Lee, so is terrible match-up. Because Mist Flames aren’t chakra.

Zetsu ends up in a ranged illusion and then ends up shot. Black Zetsu somehow escapes.

Pain happens to Konoha. Wrath happens to Pain. Because it is hard to regenerate and control puppets if the chakra receivers aren’t conducting because they’re not there. Vaporized. Grudge against Jiraiya is validated, Konan lives, Nagato almost dies but well, Xanxus says fuck that. You’re going to atone properly and not suicide your way out of your mess.

Someone attempts at the eight-tails and so the kage meeting happens. Sasuke has no reason to cause a scene as he’s chilling in Konoha but Tobito has reason and attacks with the white Zetsu sparking off the 4th Shinobi War.

Xanxus takes advantage of Kyuubi’s cooperation and Sky property of Harmony to pick out Zetsu and vaporize them.

Orochimaru decides to defect over to the Shinobi side over the Akatsuki side and Xanxus gets a lecture in Sage Mode and how to use. Kabuto has been convinced to go to the Akatsuki side somehow, so is now enemy who has no problem with edo tensai-ing every fucking one. Tobito might have broke his mind or something.

Anyway Madara’s the big bad bitch until Nagato makes him dead again. Nagato’s got Rinnegan exp over his ass. Tobito is pretty much down for the count and then comes Zetsu.

And after comes Wrath, preventing bunny goddess from being reborn or revived because Zetsu is obliterated properly this time.

People go home, rebuild and Xanxus puts his plans into action so Konoha will remain strong long after he passes on.

And in the afterlife, he hunts down Byakuran and punches him. In the face. Repeatedly.