#it’s so strange to continue life while a genocide is happening right before our eyes

[baby-girl-aaron-dessner]

Palestinian poet, Mahmoud Darwish

[edgarwhitmanwilde]

it’s so strange to continue life while a genocide is happening right before our eyes

[glimmerglanger]

Whumptober2020 - Day 5

We’re right around the halfway point for the oof!au as of today! Life continues to be awful for Obi-Wan and the 212th. All general warnings still apply. Specific to today’s entry: strangulation (with the Force), torture, mistreatment of prisoners, brief mention of non-con, branding. Still jumping around with the prompts.

Oof!au basic information: Post-Order 66 Vader-Captures-Obi-Wan AU. Eventual happy(ish) ending. Past/eventual Codywan. One-sided Vaderwan.

No 24. YOU’RE NOT MAKING ANY SENSE Forced Mutism | Blindfolded | Sensory Deprivation

Obi-Wan stared across at the wall in his cell for a long time, after the med-droids pulled him from the bacta. He had not thought while submerged in the tank. It had been a relief. All his memories were waiting for him as he came back to consciousness, every burning moment of them.

There was no way to pretend, even for a moment, that it had not happened. The brands across his back pulled each time he tried to move, remaining even after the bacta treatment. He could not see the marks well, not even with his arms free, as they were most of the time in his cell. He shuddered to think what Anakin had burned into his skin, what marks he would bear, for however long he remained alive.

He had known, when he antagonized Anakin, that the results were unlikely to be.... Pleasant. But he’d had no choice. Allowing Anakin to consider too long Padmé’s fate, the fate of his children…. It risked too much. The safety of the children first and foremost.

There was comfort in imagining Luke and Leia safe. Far away from the violence of their father. Obi-Wan would keep himself between them and the rage burning within Anakin, until it consumed him outright. He could keep Anakin distracted, keep his thoughts away from the children, from everyone who needed protection. Obi-Wan knew he could continue making Anakin angry. It had never been a difficult task, and it was significantly easier at the moment.

He closed his eyes and then opened them again, because there was nothing he wanted to see in the dark of his own mind. He’d been aware of Anakin’s….occasionally lustful thoughts for years, since even before Anakin had been Knighted. Anakin had watched him. Wanted him. But he’d never imagined Anakin would--

Well. There were so many things he’d never imagined Anakin would do. Forcing his way into Obi-Wan’s body was hardly the foulest of his actions of late. Compared to genocide, it barely counted, he thought, laughing alone in his empty, barren cell. The alternative was weeping, and he wouldn’t do that.

He knew well enough he was being monitored, ever and always.

It was strange, he considered, absently. He’d felt like a sleep-walker for years, living on Tatooine. He’d gone through the motions of living, a part of him stuck and held back on Mustafar, in that awful instant when he had turned and walked away from Anakin, all of his failures curdling in him.

Obi-Wan felt awake and like himself again, sitting in a cell, subjected to one hurt after another. He knew how to handle torture, knew only one way to deal with it, and it felt natural to fall back into sharp, ill-advised words, to goad his captor, controlling them without them ever realizing what he was doing, to feel almost… confident that he would escape.

He always had before, after all.

He needed to balance himself, if there was to be an escape. Needed to prepare for whatever Anakin intended to do to him next. Luke and Leia were depending upon him, after all. There was no way to reach out and touch the Force, no way to draw comfort from his connection to the universe. There’d not been much comfort there, of late, anyway.

He leaned his head against the wall, stared at nothing, and tried to focus on breathing exercises. He told himself, eventually, that he started to feel better.

#

Anakin left him alone, for days. Long enough that Obi-Wan suspected he’d been called away on some other mission, dancing to the whims of his Master. There was no way to adequately track the days in that featureless cell.

Troopers brought him food, sometimes. Well, they brought him nutrition, anyway, some kind of mush that was grey-ish brown in color, contained in a tube. One of them would hold his hair and jaw while the other forced it into his mouth, giving him no choice but to swallow or choke.

They always dragged his arms back and bound them, first, forcing him face-down against the cold floor, before pulling him upright once more, like he was little more than a sack of cargo.

“Delicious, as always,” he rasped, after they finished one day, specks of whatever the food was caught across his chin. It tasted vaguely of dirt and always set heavily in his stomach. They did not reply, they didn’t even look at him, his men who had been--

Been turned off, inside. Not even their expressions changed, as far as he ever saw. They were blank-eyed marionettes. Like droids, except droids had personality, even with a control bolt. 

Obi-Wan swallowed, his throat tight and pinched closed, wondering if all of the troopers had suffered the same fate; if they’d all been killed, for all that their bodies continued walking around. He’d grieved for his people, for the Jedi, after the genocide…

He hadn’t realized that he had the eradication of two entire peoples to mourn. “Alzo. Booster,” he said, because someone had to remember their names for them, had to remember who they had been, now that they’d had their identities taken away. He supposed he might be the last person in the galaxy who both could and would. “I’m so sorry. For what they did to you.”

Alzo didn’t turn or hesitate as he walked through the door. Obi-Wan thought Booster did, thought he froze, for just an instant, but… Well. He knew he was looking for shreds of hope, regardless of whether or not they actually existed. 

#

The troopers cared for his other physical needs on a sporadic basis. Sometimes they dragged in a hose and sprayed him down, the water icy cold and stinging across his skin. The pressure was so high that he had to turn his shoulders against it, but at least it cleaned him off.

Sometimes, they held him in place and shaved his face, uncareful with the razor. They did not trim his hair; it grew down over the tops of his ears, lower, shaggy. He doubted he’d recognize himself, without a beard and with such tangled hair, but that mattered little. There were no mirrors, in his little cage.

There was nothing at all to offer a distraction, just his healing wounds and the weight of wondering what Anakin had planned for him, next.

#

Obi-Wan felt almost certain weeks had passed by the time the troopers dragged him from his cell again. He’d gotten familiar with the walk through the halls of Anakin’s mountain fastness, to his throne room. He made absent conversation as they walked, the utter silence of his companions a weight in his chest.

They seemed to have grown used to his chatter. Or, at least, they no longer struck him for it. Perhaps Anakin had reprogrammed them.

Considering that option distracted him, if nothing else, from what he could guess was coming. Anakin waited already in the room for him, sitting on his throne, one leg crossed over the other, expression hidden behind his dark mask.

He was speaking to Cody, as Obi-Wan was dragged in, Cody standing there at attention before him, straight-backed and blank-faced and-- It was all wrong, all of it, even just catching the end of a conversation where Cody reported what had happened in Anakin’s absence. Obi-Wan wondered, fleetingly, if Anakin really left Cody in charge, if it were only another barb, meant to cut into Obi-Wan.

The...harness they’d chained Obi-Wan to last time remained where it was. It pulled at his attention, heavy as gravity. Obi-Wan fought to control his expression as Anakin stood and said, “Restrain him.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Obi-Wan said, speaking as Cody walked over to him, though he expected no answer. He fully anticipated that he would be ignored utterly, and so he was not disappointed as his arms and legs were dragged into position.

“Aren’t you going to tell me I don’t have to do this, either?” Anakin said, the mechanical sound of his voice still jarring and wrong. He’d stood and crossed the room, apparently, staying behind Obi-Wan’s back. 

“Would it do me any good?” Obi-Wan asked, as the wall-covering raised across the room, revealing the fires of Mustafar, so far below. The lava fell in the distance, leaving Obi-Wan feeling cold.

“No,” Anakin said, leather-covered fingers trailing across the top of Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I’m no longer swayed by your lies.”

“I’m not the one lying,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin snarled behind him, stepping away. Obi-Wan felt the heat when the furnace opened. He wondered how much of his skin Anakin intended to burn this time. He kept talking, because he knew no other way to be, “Successfully murder anyone for your new master?”

The pain was sudden and swift, directly over his spine, the metal so hot it felt almost cold as ice, at first, tendrils of agony spreading everywhere. “I protected the Empire,” Anakin snapped, leaning his weight against the brand, “I made people safer! Secure!”

The brand came off his skin, though it really changed nothing about the level of his pain. He listened to the metal clatter across stone, considering, bitterly, that once he would have hoped desperately for Anakin to find him, in this situation. Once, he would have held out hope that Anakin - above all others - would rescue him.

He said, around the bitterness in his throat, “Ah. The way you made our people safer?”

“The Jedi weren’t my people,” Anakin snarled back and - and the next burn was higher, still on his spine, a blaze of agony. “They were nothing but a corrupt cult. Religious fanatics who went power mad during the war. They were traitors--”

“Traitors to what?” Obi-Wan cut in, the lies pouring from Anakin’s mouth too much for him to take. He panted, twisting his wrists against the bonds, body shaking as Anakin pressed a fresh brand to his skin and it hurt, Force--

“To the Republic,” Anakin spat, and Obi-Wan laughed, shakily.

“Oh,” he gasped, his thoughts getting sharper with pain, “the Republic you destroyed? That Republic, or do you mean--”

“Shut up!” Anakin snarled, and made his point by curling tendrils of the Force around Obi-Wan’s throat, squeezing. Obi-Wan sipped at the air, unable to breathe deeply, feeling his pulse pounding against his skin, giving a strangled cry as Anakin burned him again, Force, he’d almost reached Obi-Wan’s neck--

“The Jedi betrayed the galaxy. They were dangerous. Self-centered. Even before the war, they - they only cared about themselves. But I saw through them, with the help of my new Master. And - and we stopped them. We gave the Jedi exactly what they deserved, Obi-Wan. Just like you’re getting what you deserve.”

He released his choking grip, finally, and Obi-Wan slumped, gulping at the air, smelling the burned char of his own flesh, shivering all over and unable to stop it. He’d gone into shock, he knew. There was no way to avoid it without the Force to draw on, the tell-tale signs of it a betrayal by his own body.

He thought how fortunate it was that he seemed to have set Anakin off on a speech, one that did not require further input from anyone else. “It was right, what I did,” Anakin was shouting, pacing, by the sound of his voice, no longer right at Obi-Wan’s back, “Necessary. And - and my success proves that the Jedi deserved it. The Force smiled upon me. Blessed my purpose. It was the will of the Force. Their - their death proves that.”

Something shifted in Obi-Wan, beyond the pain, beyond the numb horror of the past years. Something that had always been within him, a fierce little ball of whatever made up his soul, stirring his tongue, knowing it would drag Anakin’s attention back, knowing it would mean more pain…

“By your logic,” he panted, inhaling the smell of char and ruin, unable to stay silent while Anakin deluded himself even further, “I suppose that means what happened to your mother was the will of the Force.”

There was a moment of utter silence. Utter stillness. Obi-Wan’s mouth twitched up in one corner as he stared out into the falling lava, bracing with a jagged grin.

Anakin snarled, something low and deadly in his tone, “What did you just say?”

Obi-Wan wetted his bottom lip, unblinking, deliberate in each word he spoke. “I said: you must believe, then, that the successful murder of your mother proved that she deserved--”

Anakin made an awful sound, bestial, and something gripped around Obi-Wan’s throat, his mouth, the Force digging into bone and muscle. “Take it back!” Anakin roared, even as the shackles around Obi-Wan’s wrists tore open, pried apart with the Force.

Obi-Wan slumped, opening his mouth to refuse, but no sounds issued from his throat, Anakin’s grip only tightening, crushing things--

“I said: take it back!” Anakin snarled, grabbing his shoulder, jerking him around and the first blow caught Obi-Wan by surprise, spinning him and dropping him to the ground. Anakin followed, fingers in his hair, tilting his face up into another blow.

“How dare you!” Anakin spat, following one blow with another and Obi-Wan lost track, the impact of metal against flesh felt almost like it was happening to someone else, someone far away from him, Anakin’s continued demands that he apologize, that he recant everything, take back his lies, were barely even noticed.

He could not speak anyway. Anakin was… crushing things. In his throat. Tearing them to pieces. He could not make a sound, not as Anakin bodily lifted him, throwing him against the stockade, pressing him into the sharp edges of the metal, and all the pain blended together into one huge, twisting nightmare.

Eventually, the dark reached up and took him away, even while Anakin was still thrusting into him. 

Obi-Wan fell into the black and appreciated the relief.

#

Obi-Wan woke up in his cell, most of the hurts gone. For a moment, after waking, he considered that perhaps he’d only dreamed his last run-in with Anakin. But his throat hurt, still, strange and deep. He cleared it and tried to rasp out a “hello” to no one. He made no sound at all, and shuddered.

He did not bother trying to leverage himself up off of the floor. He lacked the energy for it.

He wondered, smelling bacta drying in his hair, why Anakin had simply not killed him.

He was still wondering when Tich and Sweeper brought his breakfast. Obi-Wan nodded at them, old habit, since he could not offer a proper greeting. They alternated his care, the men on the base. Obi-Wan believed there to be around three-dozen of them, but… Some had disappeared, since he’d been delivered.

He shuddered to think what had happened to them.

Tich and Sweeper shackled him and hauled him up, pushing his shoulders against the wall. He leaned against Tich’s hand, when Tich gripped his jaw, helpless to stop himself looking for some scrap of comfort, and Tich’s index finger tapped, blaster-fire fast, against his cheek.

He wanted to say: I tried to ask for help, but trying to speak at all was a fresh agony. He winced, used to the fingers in his hair by now, and said nothing. They wouldn’t have done anything, anyway, even if he’d been able to plead for assistance.

And so Obi-Wan just stared forward, waiting for whatever they were going to do to him next.

#

Days passed. Vader had him dragged in and dragged out, but seemed to grow irritated and distracted when he realized that Obi-Wan could not speak. It took… significant effort before Vader believed that Obi-Wan was not just refusing to make a sound. Once he did, Vader ordered the troopers to take him back to the medical bay, for repairs.

Obi-Wan laughed soundlessly as he was dragged along. He’d always assumed Anakin would be pleased to never have to listen to him again. There was something amusing, darkly, about Anakin’s drive to return his voice.

Perhaps it was only because he hadn’t yet heard Obi-Wan screaming.

Nor would he, even if Obi-Wan’s voice were returned. Those thoughts chased each other around Obi-Wan’s head as they got closer and closer to the medbay. He hung between Cody and Booster, too damaged to walk under his own power, his legs giving finally halfway down the hall.

And it was a surprise, strange and jarring, when Cody hesitated and then shifted, movements oddly fluid for how stiff he normally moved, and just… lifted him. Cody had carried him off of battlefields before, too many times.

He’d joked, towards the end of the war, that it was getting to be a habit.

Perhaps it had. Perhaps it was muscle memory, the way Cody just pulled him up. It certainly was habit that had Obi-Wan dropping his head onto Cody’s shoulder, taking comfort in the familiarity of the contact, his eyes burning, all at once.

He wept not in front of Anakin. Wouldn’t. But the tears streaked down his face, unheeded, as Cody carried him into the medbay, finger tapping erratically against Obi-Wan’s skin. And Obi-Wan wanted to tell him it was alright, that Obi-Wan would find a way to get them all free, but he had no voice, no way to speak the words into being.

[birbleafs]

[fic] A Tragicomedy In Five Acts

Series: Saiki Kusuo no Ψ-nan || The Disastrous Life of Saiki K. Rating: T Genre: Friendship, Humour, Breaking the Fourth Wall Character(s): Akechi Touma, Saiki Kusuo, Saiki Kurumi, Saiki Kuniharu, Saiki Kuusuke Warnings: None, save for the canon-typical shenanigans Summary: Akechi has made a habit of showing up unannounced, uninvited at the Saiki residence. The inevitable "bonding" occurs and Kusuo despairs; the world continues to turn. A/N: A piece I wrote for the Disastrous Life Zine, a charity zine. I wanted to share the uncut version here since I like how it reads more (it's not too different from zine version, though). Leftover sales are currently still live, so here's your last chance to grab some limited items if you had missed the pre-orders earlier! Thanks to the mods & other contributors over at @disastrouslifezine, for all their hard work on this project. Many thanks also to my bro Digi for the awesome beta work and for always being an all-round great pal ❤ Fic can also be read AO3. _______ i. It’s a problem Saiki Kusuo should have—could have—nipped earlier in the bud, when he’d been forced to spend a whole Sunday with Akechi Touma betting on horse-racing. But between Akechi being (begrudgingly) accepted as one of the PK Psychickers to Kusuo having to stop a meteor from slamming into the planet—well, a lot had happened. Akechi had since taken to visiting the Saiki residence at random, with little notice in advance. On his second visit, Mom had invited him in before Kusuo could intervene. If it weren’t for the cupcakes Akechi had brought along—not to mention the terrifying heat of Mom’s demonic glare at the first sign of a protest—Kusuo would have teleported him miles away without hesitation. That’s how Kusuo finds himself now—glowering at Akechi who’s sitting politely in his room and firing a running commentary about nothing and too many things all at once. Resigned, he leans back into his study chair and asks, point-blank: What do you want, Akechi?

“Your mother is lovely as always,” Akechi replies instead, dancing around the question. “I’m grateful she’s gone from remembering me as ‘Pee Boy’ to ‘Kusuo’s Friend Who Only Ever Wets His Pants Occasionally’. Surely that’s a sign we have gotten closer.” It sounds just as terrible as the first—only a simpleton would be okay with that as a defining trait, Kusuo retorts. In any case, we’re hardly more than classmates. So, why are you here again? “I thought you would have realized it by now with your telepathy. But I suppose I can explain it for the sake of the readers!” Akechi beams, holding up a small case in his hand. Don’t just casually break the fourth wall, Kusuo frowns, even as he leans forward for a closer look. Akechi pops the case open and turns towards the game console. “I was recently gifted this game by my cousin, who assured me that, while underrated, it’s still a cult hit among fans. I thought it would be fun to play it together.” Kusuo stares flatly at the title OVERWORKED displayed on the disc as it slides into the console drive, already unimpressed. That is such a blatant rip-off. “Oh, no, it's a completely different game from the one you’re thinking of!” Akechi says. “Here you play as the overworked waiter of a cafe who serves multiple orders at once and takes over the cooking whenever the head chef throws a tantrum and storms right off.” How is that different from OVERC***ED? It is totally OVERC***ED! “Regardless, shall we have a play-off?” Akechi offers the controller to him. “Winner gets this box of cupcakes. I got them from the best pâtisserie in town, which is no easy feat. Why just this morning I left home at the crack of dawn to secure a spot in the queue, and even then, there were already about 30-odd people ahead of me! Who knew it was so popular—A-ah!” Kusuo yanks the controller easily from Akechi’s hand towards him with telekinesis, a glint of determination in his eyes now. Best two out of three levels. Loser also has to leave immediately. Akechi grins knowingly and cracks his knuckles, reaching for the second controller. “You’re quick to assume victory, Kusuo-kun. Very well, then!” Thirty-seven minutes later and Kusuo’s left staring at the final scores, appalled. He would have won if his character hadn’t kept freezing in place and glitching at crucial moments, messing up in the kitchens and sending out wrong orders. How is he always losing to Akechi like this? Clearly the universe is still conspiring against him. “You were so close to beefing my lask score dhoo,” Akechi says shamelessly through a mouthful of strawberry frosting. “And my, deez fupfakes are s’per dhasty!” Are you taunting me now? Kusuo scowls enviously at the cupcake in Akechi’s hand before he huffs, slinking back into his chair. Well, I’ll be staring dejectedly out my window for a bit, so feel free to eat your cupcakes and then leave. But Akechi only laughs then and, to Kusuo’s surprise, moves to place a chocolate cupcake before him. “You’re so melodramatic, Kusuo-kun. I never said the winner can’t share.” ... I guess you didn’t. They spend the rest of the afternoon eating cupcakes. _______ ii. This again? It’s been a month, but Kusuo already feels a sense of gloom settling over him when Akechi steps into the genkan. He would have been fine with leaving Akechi outside blathering away through closed doors for the entire day while he pretended not to be home, but obviously Mom is having none of that. “I’m so glad you’ve been coming over to play with Ku-chan!” she greets cheerfully. “I couldn’t believe it when I first heard, but you and Kusuo are getting along well, huh, Akechi-kun!” Dad says with a sagely nod, looking every bit the part of the morally upright, reliable father. Bold of you to believe such delusional notions of camaraderie, or that you even look the part of an admirable adult, Kusuo comments drily, before turning to leave. “We don’t just get along,” Akechi chimes in reply. “You could even say our friendship is super-califragilisticexpialidocious!” GET OUT. If looks could kill, Kusuo’s current expression is pure genocide. But his parents are already fawning and AH-HYUU-!!-ing at Akechi’s words, tears of joy gushing down their cheeks like an endless waterfall. Kusuo watches in quiet despair as Akechi is readily accepted into their fold with welcomed embraces, a key development in this romantic soap opera. Oi, what’s with the misleading narrative?! We’re not in that kind of fanfic right now! Dad and Akechi hit it off well enough, one thing leads to another, and Kusuo suddenly finds himself roped into playing MECH-O ARENA VR on the WAB station in Dad’s study. Seriously, stop it with the terrible rip-offs of actual games already, Kusuo frowns as he watches Dad’s and Akechi’s characters flitting about on the screen to fight off an incoming attack. “I suppose it’s not very original, is it?” Akechi says, punching the controller buttons in a flurry of movements. “But it’s different enough that we can probably avoid any unwanted copyright lawsuits.” That’s completely beside the point. Dad’s wholly immersed with the game now, so it’s impossible for Kusuo to get rid of Akechi without Dad throwing a childish fuss about losing his new gaming buddy. Not to mention Mom’s uncanny ability to appear with coffee and snacks each time Kusuo had tried to inconspicuously retreat back into his room, all while exuding an ominous aura that effectively dissuaded his need to leave immediately. Good grief—everyone’s being such a pain today, Kusuo sighs, before he finally relents to Mom’s cajoling to team up with her against Dad and Akechi in the final round. He figures it can’t get worse than this anyway. That is, until Kuusuke gets involved. _______ iii. When Kusuo returns home from a quick grocery trip for Mom, he walks into a surprisingly empty living room. He can hear Dad and Kuusuke’s voices from upstairs but for some reason he’s not quite able to perceive the atmosphere within—it’s as if his senses are partially blocked by a cognitive fog with the study engulfed in a dead zone. Must be that prototype “router” Kuusuke had installed in Dad’s study yesterday. Kusuo has zero interest in his brother’s tiresome antics, but is compelled nonetheless to check on them, if only to ensure Kuusuke isn’t playing Mad Scientist and coaxing Dad into yet another deranged human project. He opens the door, nearly lashes out in shock with telekinesis when he sees Akechi staring through the doorway with a creepy, owlish expression. “Oh, were you actually surprised, Kusuo-kun?” Akechi says. “My apologies for frightening you like that.” Kusuo studies the room cautiously, only to realize he’s unable to hear anyone’s thoughts with telepathy. He glares at his brother in suspicion. “Welcome back, little brother!” Kuusuke greets him with a Cheshire grin. “I see you’ve got yourself a new playmate. Hmm? Ah, you must think it strange that I've taken to Akechi-kun so readily.” Strange and highly dubious, Kusuo counters. What are you scheming? “Well, Akechi-kun shows the most potential and capacity for mental growth amongst the lesser primates close to you—” What a disparaging worldview. And stop deflecting! I know you can still understand me. “—So, he may yet make a good test subj—Ah, I mean, a good friend! Interesting specimens tend to gravitate towards you, after all. Though his propensity for peeing sure is troubling, isn’t it? Haha!” You can excuse questionable human experimentations, but you draw the line at incontinence? Kuusuke attempts a nonchalant shrug. “Priorities, amirite?” “But this is amazing, Kuusuke-san,” Akechi says, glancing up in awe at the blinking device on the ceiling. “The telepathy canceller really does block our thoughts efficiently!” “It’s child's play compared to Kusuo’s abilities,” Kuusuke says, seemingly modest, but Kusuo doesn’t miss the devious glint in his eyes when he reaches into his coat pocket to pull out what looks suspiciously like a detonator with a giant red button. “Still, with this, Operation SM☆SH can now finally commence—” Wait, Operation what?? Kuusuke, don’t you dare...! But Kuusuke is already pressing the button, and the study is plunged into darkness as the lights flicker off and the blinds draw shut. Alarmed, Kusuo wrenches the detonator away from Kuusuke’s grip with his telekinesis. What did you just do?! There’s an electronic whirr, a blinding flash, and Kusuo finds himself suddenly staring at a large LCD screen as it emerges from the ceiling. Music blares from overhead speakers as a cinematic opening sequence begins to play. “There you are, Kusuo!” Dad looks up from behind the coffee table where he’d been fiddling with the game console. He adjusts the VR headset over his eyes. “It’s time to finally beat you at SUPER SM☆SH BUDS as payback for last time! HII-YAAAH!!” ... Oh. So it’s just another game. “That’s right!” Kuusuke claps his hands together, blissfully ignoring the heat of Kusuo’s baleful glare. “I heard about your horse-racing bet from Akechi-kun and found this as the best way to even the odds for other types of games.” “The idea came to me while peeing in the shower; to find ways you could play and not get bored easily, Kusuo-kun,” Akechi adds in unnecessary detail. “But I didn’t think Kuusuke-san could actually pull it off.” “Here, Kusuo,” Dad says, waving his controller. “Come choose your character—” But Kusuo’s already teleporting away, fleeing the wretched upheaval within his own home to hide at Cafe Mami for the rest of the day. _______ iv. Akechi corners him after school three weeks later. Kusuo is surprised and unsurprised all at once; he had worn the germanium ring to class, after all, in a bid to avoid spoilers for the direct-to-streaming release movie adaptation of a book he’d been fond of. It’s easy to ignore everyone’s spoilery chatter when it isn’t droning directly into his mind—he’d kept his fingers stuck into  his ears each time class ended, oblivious to the strange looks thrown his way, and had even hidden away in the restroom cubicle during breaks, successfully avoiding any interaction with the usual human nuisances. Until now, that is. “Let’s walk home together, Kusuo-kun!” Akechi calls, jogging after him. I’m suddenly deaf and sound has eluded me, Kusuo deadpans as he breaks into a sprint, determined to leave before Akechi starts blabbing spoilers. “I noticed you weren’t quite yourself today,” Akechi continues, catching up with him.  “And I thought it might have something to do with the ring on your left index finger that you’ve fondled precisely seventeen times throughout the day.” What an awful way to describe it. I didn’t fondle anything. “Perhaps the material of that ring works in the same manner as the telepathy canceller—which would explain why you seemed uncharacteristically skittish today since you’re pretty bad at discerning people’s intentions without your telepathy.” What are you? A psychic? But Akechi only persists. “I realized later that you’d always leave whenever anyone started talking about that new movie on Netfl*x—” Can’t hear now, Kusuo slaps his hands over his ears. Gone horribly deaf. “And I figured it must be that you haven’t watched it yet for some reason, like maybe your home internet is down because your father forgot to pay the bills for three whole months and so it got cut—” How did you even..? Kusuo grimaces. N-nope, not listening! 100% deaf! “I know you don’t have a mobile phone to watch it on either,” Akechi continues. “So, that’s why I wanted to invite you to my house today, to watch it together. Oh, don’t worry, I know absolutely nothing about the movie. In fact, I’d only heard Kaidou-kun screaming out the title just ten minutes ago.” Kusuo pauses then, glancing back at Akechi in hesitance. Akechi only meets his wary gaze with a knowing smirk, and says, “We also have strawberry shortcake in the fridge.” _______ v. I don’t suppose there’s a good reason this time either, Kusuo sighs wearily, closing his book. Still, there’s a glimmer in his eyes; he knows Akechi had come bearing gifts—a selection of coffee jellies topped with cherries and chocolate drizzle. “I’ve made a habit of crashing your place unannounced, haven’t I?” Akechi offers a contrite grin, watching as Kusuo helps himself to a spoonful of jelly. “I do apologize, but whenever I get restless, I find myself wandering here by instinct. Admittedly, I was worried about being a bother, but your mother is always so welcoming at the door despite that dreary, constipated look in your eyes—” You are being a bother. Like a persistent mosquito that thinks it's summer all year round, Kusuo grouses with his Most Annoyed Expression, knowing how ineffectual his Feigning Ignorance Face had become over time. Also, have you graduated from pee references to shitty jokes now? Disgusting. But Akechi takes it all in stride, undeterred by Kusuo’s ugly grimace and acerbic jibes. “—Plus, it’d be considered extremely rude if I didn’t come in after that, and I certainly do not want you to think of me as rude. You’re a friend I hold in high regard, after all. I always have, ever since I found out it was you who saved me from the bullies back then.” The earnestness in Akechi’s words stumps him, if only a little. And though Kusuo is careful to keep his surprise from showing, there’s a part deep down in his not-so-granite heart that feels a touch of warmth at the sentiment. Akechi’s already placing the Scrabble board on the floor, so he misses the ghost of a smile that crosses Kusuo’s lips. Did Akechi honestly think he could beat a psychic at Scrabble too? How naive. “You’re probably thinking how naive I must be, believing I could beat you at a board game with your powers and all,” Akechi notes cheerfully, almost as if he’s a mind-reader himself. Kusuo frowns, slightly disgruntled by the fourth-wall breaking once more and wishes they would give it a rest for once. Overusing a trope gets really tiring, you know? Still, he smiles again as he takes a seat across from Akechi—who is now shuffling the Scrabble chips while nattering away about the history of board games and how the loser would have to give up his share of coffee jelly (as if Kusuo would allow it to come to that again). Two Sunday visits per month only, Kusuo says, lifting several chips into the air with a wave of his hand. If you beat me... I’ll allow it. Akechi’s eyes widen, before he breaks into a playful grin. “Very well, then. May the best man win.” Kusuo only lets out a soft laugh. Perhaps it’s not too late to pick up where they had left off in grade school. —End—

[liddolwhynot2000]

Decisions Of a Capricorn

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Summary: Levi Ackerman woke up one fine morning. In the past. Shit.

Genre: Angst, lets-change-shit, drama, liddol romance (Levixhappiness)

Pairings: Levi/Original Female Character, Levi/Petra

Warning: Manga spoilers

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Chapter 1. Chapter 2

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Chapter 3: Brace

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Summary:  Capricorns can be naturally pessimistic. They already expect unfortunate things to happen in life, so they take them in a stride.

Alternatively, Levi braces himself for the worst and is pleasantly suprised.

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Telling his squad had gone better then he thought it would. His special ops members took the news it in a stride, immediately launching into a discussion of what they needed to do now and how to utilize this information best. Eren, as expected of his 15 year old version, was befuddled.

Levi wondered how someone so innocent looking transformed into a complete monster in such short time.

His squad had lived up to his expectations, easily concluding that they need to keep this information to themselves for now. Eld, ever the natural born leader, took the lead and suggested that they need to learn to work with Eren. So that they aren't caught off guard on the bare minimum skill level they can expect from the traitor.

Gunther was the one who brought up the possibility of facing the armoured titan, and even though Levi was sure they wouldn't have to face that particular beast yet, he still agreed with their suggestions of carrying some fire arms. Thunder spears didn't exist yet, which meant that grenades and canons would be their best shot.

Eren had tried to voice out his own suggestion, that he wanted to train his skill set too. He felt that he needex to improve in some areas, and although Levi bitterly recalled how much Eren had improved without help in another life, he had to agree with the brat.

His squad, however, didn't share the same opinion and immediately began to shut Eren down.

'Eren, your job is to trust us. We expect you to leave it all to us and transform as an absolute last resort!'

'Yeah, you brat, don't get cocky. The only way you'll fight is if we somehow di-'

Olou had bitten his tounge and cut himself off before Levi could. Levi had then interrupted before Eld and Gunther could throw in their two cents.

'Eren is the main target, what will all of you do if Eren is somehow dragged away you from you and has to fight for himself? We need to prepare this brat for everything, especially how to fight in his titan form.'

They had all shut up, but he could tell it was only because of Eren's presence. They wouldn't be caught dead speaking speak out against their superior, especially in front of Eren. Levi had taken advantage of that little fact.

'We'll get back to this in a while-- Eren it's time for you to transform. Four eyes is here'

____________________________________

It went just like last time, Eren wasn't able to transform. He sat in front of Levi, looking just as despondent he had the last time. He didn't walk away from Eren like last time, instead having chosen to stick close to the brat. Some things still needed to happen, and Levi was just waiting for that inevitable explosion.

When Eren accidentally transformed this time, he immediately took out his blades and points them at his team, not at all surprised that they had already drawn their blades.

They would always be talented little brats, but they had a long way to go..

'Captain-'

'Put down your blades Petra.'

'Captain get away from Eren-Please-'

It had continued on, with the brats arguing in favour of heatedly questioning Eren and his motives, while he had ferociously stood by the him. It was a part of the plan really-he knew that Eren would be fine no matter what. He just hoped that, at least this time around, the brat would take his taking a stand for him like this into consideration before he decided to launch a mass genocide on his own.

'Shut up and obey.'

His team had faltered, and then slowly lowered their swords as he began to speak.

'Do you have any other titan shifters?'

They all looked confused. Only Olou managed to speak croak out a strangled no. Levi pointed at Eren, who was panicking alot less since Levi had begun to speak in his favour.

'You see this dumbass? He's our only shot. There's no replacement for him. All of you can be replaced, Erwin can be replaced, Hange can be replaced. Despite your silly admiration of me, I could easily drop dead and be replaced too.-'

His squad had looked scandalised at the thought of their beloved captain being anything remotely close to being replaceable. Then again, none of them had experienced Mikasa and her unnatural strength yet.

'We need him. He doesn't need us. Understand that none of you can afford to point your blades at him without my orders. The next time you do so, I will be your opponent.'

Eld and Gunther had looked nervous, Olou had visibly begun to sweat and Petra had looked at him a little strangely. However, they all seemed to understand the point he wanted to make. '

'Am I clear?

They all nodded

'Yes Sir!'

____________________________________

He had made sure to still have that chat with Eren, to make him understand his squads actions. He knew Eren trusted him a little more this time around-his showing support toward him like this had likely changed his opinion of him, if only a little. Levi was banking on that, hopefully he could push the kid in the right direction.

He had gone to his room after Hange had explained Eren's transformation and his squad had shown support towards Eren by biting their hands. A filthy act, but he supposed in this case he would allow it. Not that it stopped him from ordering them to go sanitise their hands and not come near him for a while.

He had even made his tea on his own, unwilling to let them touch them with their germ infected hands. Petra had looked at him oddly when he had told her he would do it on his own, almost like a kicked puppy.

He sat in bed, tea long finished and mind occupied.

He had been somewhat productive so far, managing to manipulate Erwin into changing the plan to capture the female titan. His squad was well in the loop, and likely making several plans to take on a titan shifter. Eren was beginning to look at him with more trust, something he hoped would blossom more.

There was still too much to figure out though. And since Levi had resolved to not let Erwin in on the plan, he was now drowning in things he needed to figure out. How Erwin managed to sort through so much crap was beyond him.

Some things, he had already figured out. Others were still being debated upon.

When it came to Historia, he would injure her tommorow, to the point she wouldn't be able make it to the expedition. She would likely try to jail him for it after taking the crown, but he figured he could call it vacation time from work and enjoy the silence. Those brats were too loud anyways.

He knew that Rod Reiss might come after her sooner after hearing that she had been injured, so he would have an old friend keep an eye out for her. It was an aquantince from the underground, one of the few he could trust, that had managed to crawl their way to the surface too. He was strong and capable-and very good at hiding when he needed to.

Only Levi had ever been able to find him- and since he knew Kenny Ackerman wouldn't be used yet, he felt it was the best way to keep her safe.

He had also decided that he would have to kill Kenny. He had contemplated recruiting the old bastard, but Kenny was too much of a gamble. The type only Erwin would take on trying to recruit. And while it would be feasible to drop hints about his mentor in the underground to the Commander, he wasn't sure the Survey Corps could handle a mission like that. Their attention needed to be on capturing shifters and getting Historia to the crown.

Maybe Erwin could risk something like that, but this time it would be his deicison. Kenny, despite his conflicting feelings towards him, had to be eliminated. He just couldn't chance their opposition having someone like that on their side, and wasn't confident enough that they could get him to jump ship.

The rest he was still a little muddled on. He was reasonably sure he could draw Ymir to their side, especially if he told her about how Historia would be queen soon. But the girl wasn't dumb, she would also be able to tell that Historia would have a part time job as child breeder, and might even try to leave with her then.

It pained him to do so, but he couldn't save Historia from that fate. He could, however try his damned hardest that her children wouldn't be turned into shifters.

The other shifters left him feeling conflicted. They needed the Colossal titan, he would be their mass weapon against other nations. The moment he could, he would get the serum and feed Bertolts titan to one of their soldiers. There would be no compromising on that, no matter how much he wished he could lure the kid to their side instead and spare him from that painful death. He just didn't know the kid enough to ensure he could win him over.

As for Reiner, Levi recalled the young man who had stepped up to stop Eren. He recognised that he was stuck in a tough place, but again, he would have to harden his heart. He had to keep his side as safe as possible, even if it meant taking away the armoured titan.

A part of him still hoped that he could get the kid to join him though, he would definitely try for it.

As for Zeke and Pieck, who had likely already arrived on the island, they would be dealt promptly. Zeke would need to be restrained and hidden away in a deep tunnel, while the cart titan would be given to someone else.

He would, unfortunately, have to allow Zeke to turn Ragako Village into titans. But he figured not everyone needed to be turned for it, he could at least get the children out of there. Connie's mother had been key in figuring out the truth about titans, and so he would have to sacrifice her. But Connie's siblings would at least live this time around.

More of his cormades would survive the attack too, having less titans to deal with. He was hoping that Mike and his squad would get out of it alive and not be dealt the same unfortunate fate they had suffered through before.

When it came to Annie, however, Levi already knew what to do. If all went well, he was more then sure that the Female Titan would be fighting for the Island soon enough.

His plans regarding the shifters were a big gamble on his part, since it was all relying on one thing specifically.

Getting the titan serum from the Royal government.

But Levi was a thief at heart, a man who knew how to get things no one wanted to give, to find them in the shadiest corner, completely undetected. Worst comes, he would easily infiltrate. Their security was crap anyways.

He would know. It wouldn't be the first time he had stolen something from those bastards anyways.

Levi laid down, covering himself with a blanket. He thought of one last thing before he allowed sleep to overcome him.

It was dumb of Marley to send six of their shifters to the Island, and all at the same time too. Because Levi had no intention of letting any of them go back home, not this time around.

____________________________________

In all his years of living, Levi had gotten used to being surprised. He had gone through surprise attacks, friends turning into foes, getting punched by the Queen and even time travelled. Yet had taken it all in a stride.

He had expected that half his plans would fail, that he would end up losing his squad anyways, that Annie would escape this time too. But here they were, sitting in the mess hall, post expedition, and very much alive.

Erwin had informed more squads about the traitor, although thankfully Reiner and his squad hadn't been told. Most of them had understood that they likely wouldn't be able to take on the threat, and their squad leaders had made sure to have them engage very litte. They had tactfully allowed the Female Titan to pass through the formation, thus leading her to Eren. More lives had been saved this time around, much to his pleasure.

They had gone through the same plan, trapping her in the forest. Erwin had stood by and watched as the female titan glared at him. Beside him had stood soldier with black hair, wearing a hoodie. Their face had been hidden, but everyone had called that soldier captain Levi. It had made Annie think she was safe, that when she called titans to her and left to go after squad Levi, Humanity's Strongest wouldn't come after her until she accomplished her mission.

It was only when she reached the squad and made to slice at Gunther that she realise that she had been duped. The sight of Humanity's Strongest blocking her blade with his own had caused her to sweat.

Things had gotten on easily then, she hadn't been much match for him. And his squad had taken double their usual measures, going as far as to throw explosives at her before he could carve her out of the nape. Eren had watched it all in awe, thankfully the brat hadn't needed to transform this time around.

His expression had quickly changed to shock and betrayal once he spotted his comrade sealed in a crystal. Levi wasn't suprised that she had sealed herself like that this time too, he had been counting on it actually.

Levi snapped out of his thoughts and pushed his now empty tray away. He decided it was the perfect time to put his plan into action.

He needed to pay Annie Leonhart a visit.

____________________________________

A/N: Heyooo. Here's chapter 3! Any guesses how Levi is getting Annie on their side?

Sorry I don't post much, but I swear things have been ridiculously busy. Uni life, housework, and my mom is sick too :(

[cadomoisspokenfor]

Legion Rewatch Notes,

Chapter 8:

The Revolution

Aw man, how unfortunate what’s happened to Clark. I feel soooooooo bad. I mean he was just humble div 3 agent, doing his job, gaslighting marginalized individuals, participating in a genocide. How cruel of those bad bad mutants to injure him so badly. He was only actively about to kill David. What could he possibly have done to deserve any of this?

In other words, the Clark propaganda is not working on me this time. At all.

Maybe don’t participate in a genocide? Idk :/

I normally hate when people type in the passive aggressive way I have been for the past few paragraphs, but goddamn, Clark deserves it.

He’s not quite as damaged... but he’s kind’ve like old David here, from the over-medicated living with Amy timeline. Again, not quite as damaged as that though.

Clark considers mutants a “threat to democracy.” 🙄 “Moral panic” I guess?

“The second I walk outta this room, i’m going to war.” There’s that word again. Clark could just... not, and they’d probably have more time to figure out how to safely eradicate Farouk. But because he doesn’t and David busies himself with peace treaties, Farouk escapes and continues to be a problem for the next year. Clark has a family. A husband and child who love him to death. And he chooses war over them. This pattern will repeat in other character. Technically this isn’t even the start of it.

Suit change, new cane, same Clark. This really doesn’t change anything, does it? He could go through the rest of the series in the suit he wore before and it wouldn’t make difference. The valiant hero dressing for an expected victory over their long time (relatively) rival, only to be stopped immediately by an unforeseen development. This pattern will repeat... tragically.

Considering Farouk!David woulda just dusted them, it’s probably nice for his friends to see the real him is much less violent. He just stacks em like a Jenga Tower, no need for anything more.

Also, Wilhelm scream from one of the soldiers.

He’s also talking strangely. In an almost too calm voice. Measured. He talks like this a few other times, but I think those times have sadder context. Maybe they reflect on this moment. He talks like how he talked when Farouk was mind-melded with him, but his intentions aren’t evil this time around. I guess this is just his “fully in control” voice.

Clark’s literally shaking where he stands.

The zoom in to Clark’s blind eye is reminiscent to previous zoom in’s to Walter’s foggy eye. I guess Clark has taken on the role of Walter, artificially. Makes sense since he’s now the main D3 representative/antagonist like Walter was before.

“I don’t care if you save me, or the world, if you don’t save yourself.” David will eventually choose himself over the world, and Syd. And Syd will hunt him for it. Goes to show how much things change in s2.

“You know the most dangerous thing about schizophrenia?”

“You’re not-“

“The most dangerous thing is believing... you don’t have it! That’s the trick, the mind killer, your disease convinces you you don’t have it. So, for example, one day in the hospital you meet a girl and she has some friends, and they tell you you’re not sick. You have superpowers. And more than anything you wanna believe it because that means you’re not crazy! That means you can fall in love and live happily ever after. But you know if you believe it, if you surrender to the hope and you’re wrong, then... you’re never coming back.”

“I’m here. I’m real. The power is real. You gotta accept it, otherwise we can’t move on.”

“I was in Clockworks for six years. Drugged, doing nothing. Contributing nothing. And now, finally I can be useful! I can help! Don’t you get it? I am so sick of myself. This only works if it’s not about me.”

“David...”

So... that’s a lot. David believes being crazy means he’s not allowed to fall in love, or be happy. He said the same sentiment to Amy before Clockworks. This whole season and this episode especially push David into his full “I’m not insane, I won’t believe you if you tell me otherwise” mindset. At the very least that’s the stakes we’re playing with. If David fully gives into the hope, even for a moment, he believes there’s no possibility for recovery. No possibility for love or happiness. Why even try after that? It’s life or death for him. “If the choice is between life and death, I choose life.”

I know this is all already known and talked about and circulated 100’s of times over in various fan circles, but it’s probably the most important line for David’s character (the speech, not the Farouk quote). It’s very ableist, yes, but at least in the moment it’s coming from someone who’s just being too hard on themselves, and not ya know, being actively validated by the show.

2 episodes ago David talked about being worried about an “invincible” feeling. The dangers of mania.

We also know from that episode that David is more at peace in a calm, responsibilityless setting (with Syd) than he is out in the real world. David’s gonna take on a ton of responsibility, some of it’s gonna draw him away from Syd. At multiple moments throughout the show David has known his own mental health better than any of the others, and even warned them about potentially dangerous slopes he could fall down without their help. Despite this, David is pushed further down a path he tells them is dangerous and is still blamed for what happens in the end. I feel like Oliver’s line from ep4 is relevant here again, “We are the root of all our problems. Our anger, our confusion, our fear of things we don’t understand.” Everyone wants David to be something other than... David. A hero, a god, there projected image of a perfect partner. Not just... David.

Man, the more I realize about David’s self-awareness in s1 the madder I am at Syd for saying all that ableist stuff to him in s2 as if he wasn’t already down on himself 24/7. “It never occurred to you that you’re the problem not the solution?” It’s occurred to him like 5 times by now and has been shut down by you at least 3 of those times. I don’t understand.

What’s strange is... to my recollection David doesn’t believe he’s invincible at the end of s2. Or that he’s not sick.

“Saint David.”

“I’m not saying that. I make mistakes.”

“Say you’re gonna let them kill me if I don’t let them turn me into something different. Something easy. Something clean.” He sounds sinister here, but it is an indication that he knows he’s not perfect. In fact it sounds like he’s trying to appeal to Chap 1 Syd’s mentality. Your disorder is what “makes you you.”

So what’s the message here?

“We can’t just kill people. Or is that who we are now?”

“That’s who they are.”

The justification for killing here is that they’ll kill them if they don’t. Div 3 will kill Summerland if Summerland doesn’t kill Div 3, is what I meant. David has a similar justification for killing Shadow King in s2. Well, he has a LOT of justifications for it, but that’s one of them. Syd doesn’t hear it then either. She does attempt to kill David herself though. I don’t quite understand where the line is.

“He was gonna kill you, twice.”

“With that kind of thinking wars would never end.”

So... he shoulda just talked to The Shadow King when they were both powerless? Talking is what ultimately ends their fight in s3... hmm...

Cary is more humane to their POW than Melanie and Ptonomy are.

The show doesn’t necessarily say it was Cary’s fault for leaving Kerry. Either way though, Kerry needs some space.

Melanie calls David a “world breaker” and outright says now that he knows that’s what he is, div 3 doesn’t stand a chance. I suppose... knowing that... is why they so readily team with Farouk. They stood no chance otherwise. Even then, at least hide him away till after the intervention.

David’s floating meditation pose is seen more in s2 and A LOT more in s3.

He puts the onus of ending the war on Div 3. As if to say, “If things get violent again, it’ll be on you, not us.”

People keep talking about “gods” “waking up” and “realizing they don’t have to listen to us/them anymore.”

When Clark says it David’s first response is, “Isn’t that the history of the world?” But it’s a red herring (or something else) cause he follows it up with, “People of different nations, different languages, learning to live together?”

Clark is afraid if mutants gain power they won’t show humans mercy or equality. This is a common belief among fascist. The “they’ll treat us like we treat them” argument. Only it’s rarely self-aware, and it isn’t here either. Clark genuinely believes he’s not doing anything wrong. It’s all somehow in “self defense.”

Ah, so Farouk and Syd are connected psychically. He entered her mind whenever she entered David’s. He psychically affects her at multiple points throughout the series.

Syd here is convinced to help The Shadow King by The Shadow King. And while he’s wearing a mask at that. Yeah yeah, this pattern will repeat. But still, Syd gives in relatively quickly here. Perhaps she just... doesn’t fully trust Summerlands capabilities? They are legitimately trying to get rid of Farouk, but Farouk has proven time and time again how dangerous he is. Or maybe the “unmake soup” thing is just that convincing to Syd.

Clark’s still standoffish, but he’s slowly becoming more cooperative.

Syd rolled a 4 on that hero speech. She needed at least a 7.

I legitimately NEVER noticed before that Syd secretly turns on the lab camera feed for Clark to watch. They weren’t trying to show him that.

David gets a chance to look back at his whole life and recontextualize everything.

David straight up halts Farouk’s theme. If Clockworks Podcast is right and he can hear that whenever Farouk shows up, this would be evidence of it. Alternatively, he was halting Farouk, and the music halting was for the audience. A fun subversion of expectations.

David describes him and Farouk as, “The Sun and Moon.”

Division 3 sees it. The monster they saw on infrared. Clearly a separate entity from David Haller. Clearly of a different disposition than David Haller as David Haller has acted very differently and non-hostile compared to when they saw him roaming those HQ halls. The monster and David are not the same. They see who their real enemy is now.

It seems evident there was no chance of David beating Farouk on his own here. I wonder why? Was it true? Is Farouk just too ingrained in his mind? Cary said he was like a, “Computer virus. Learning his systems, bypassing his defenses.” Maybe Syd remembered that, and that’s why she believed Farouk. Cause Cary had already said something similar before.

Clark could've escaped, but he stayed, then tried to help fight Farouk.

I feel really sad Oliver got possessed. It never occurred to me before he could even tell Melanie he remembered her. Melanie’ll just go on thinking he never remembered her for a year.

And thus it’s established. There are “good mutants” and there are “bad mutants.”

No one checks on Ptonomy :(

The Lenny that’s talking to Oliver here is still just Farouk.

Did the orb go back as far as it could? Or was this time specifically chosen? If it was chosen, it was probably because it’s very soon after Farouk had been expelled from David’s head, and before the big race for his body starts.

[gabriel4sam]

For your celebration of "And then he wakes up...", could you write something on either Jangobi + tooka, or a Ventrobi timeloop, please?

Under the cut, a small Obi-Wan/Asajj Ventress fic, with time travel fix-it!

Asajj is busy inside the motors of her ship when it happens. The little beast roars like no other and can outlast the most determined other bounty hunter, or idiotic imperial, but fickle is a too nice word for it. Half of her money is spent on pieces.

So, here she is, oil on her arms and a swear on her lips when something explodes in the Force. It’s so ferocious and intense that she bashes her head on metal so hard she probably gives herself a concussion, then only has the time to reach for the bucket full of oil she just used to bath a recalcitrant butterfly valve and she’s violently ill.

She reaches into the Force with wobbly intent and is meet with weeping and distress. Something monstrous just happened.

Once before, once only, Asajj sensed such lament, just after Order 66, when the Force mourned Its children. Only, there are no more Jedi to genocide, the Inquisitors, Vader and bounty hunters took care of it. But not Asajj, never Asajj, those bounties, she never took, even if she refused to examine the reason why. But today, the Force had been shaken in a very similar way. What sort of horrors could have been so terrible to be felt this way?

The answer is on the Holonet only minutes after. The Empire really wants people to know about its new toy, this planet killer born of a nightmare.

A whole world. Alderaan is no more, Alderaan of the shining culture, of the precious beauty, Alderaan with its poetry, with its literature, its theatre and songs and food, with its ideas and its history. Alderaan, the world who fought so hard, always, for the disenfranchised, for the slaves, for the forgotten. Alderaan, who always opened its doors to refugee and voted following its heart in the Senate, its Senators the last bastions of resistance in a sea of sycophants.

Alderaan and its millions of sentients, and its billions of life force.

Asajj feels very old and very tired. If she was the sort of self-righteous idiot prone to this sort of gesture, she would probably search and join for the Rebel Alliance on the spot, but she’s smarter than that.

That night, she still buys herself a very, very nice vintage, quite decided to drink herself into stupor. Sometimes, that’s the only thing to do, if not done too often. She’s in that dangerous state for a Force User, not passed out but drunk enough her control on her powers is not the same, her shields not so tights, when she feels the Light flares. She reaches out, more reflex than decision.

“Ventress!” Someone calls in the void, surprised to feel someone reaching out, and the voice brings back memories of a taunting smile and grey eye and then it’s snuffed out.

Asajj sits up, terribly sober. Wherever he was, Obi-Wan Kenobi just died. In any other time, she wouldn’t have feel it, but tonight, drunk and tired, and with so little Force sensitive beings left. She never liked the guy but to her surprise, she feels a wave of grief. She almost reaches for the bottle again, but decides against it. This night, her dreams are plagued by memories and she sleeps so poorly that the next morning, she doesn’t question it when the ship’s hyper drive acts out again. Exasperated, she opens the compartment, searches for the reason of the problem….By the Force, how much did the resonance in the Force of Alderaan’s blowing up affect her? She would have sworn she had done a better job than that, it’s exactly like…. She needs a holiday. Something safe and quiet and far, very far away from the Empire blowing up entire worlds and killing old enemies who were of the last people in the whole galaxy who knew, really knew Asajj. Because it was certainly the Empire: Obi-Wan Kenobi wasn’t exactly the style to die from anything else than a full legion, or at least a full Sith. She’s there in her memories, thinking of that time on Drall when she had tried to cut him in two with an ancient Sith Weapon, and that time on Selonia when Kenobi had foiled her whole plan by, she was quite sure of it, seducing the twin ambassadors… Strangely; all those occasions who had infuriated her at the time are now bringing a half-smile on her pale lips. He had been a ferocious adversary, but a fun one. And it would be a lie to pretend, but only now, now that he was dead, that she had never imagined what sort of adversary he would have made on another battlefield, one of linen and pillows. She’s there, working on the butterfly valve and thinking of twinkling grey eyes, when the Force explodes in pain. Asajj bashes her head on metal, again.

What the…. This time, she doesn’t throw up, breathing careful, sending her pain into the Force.

Not even ten minutes after, the fate of Alderaan is on the holonet again.

Asajj needs to sit down. Didn’t she live that already? A vision, perhaps? No, her visions are rare, fragmented, honestly not very useful, her talents in the Force residing elsewhere. Quickly, she puts her motor in order and starts her ship.

Asajj Ventress is a lot of things but indecisive is not one of them. Run away? Where? If it’s the will of the Force, running away in the Unknown regions themselves would be useless. The Force can’t be outrun and if Its paths can be mysterious, they are stubborn.

Direction Alderaan, or whatever is left of it. Here, perhaps she will find answers. She’s just leaving hyperspace when she feels the Light flares up, once again. Much more closely, she can almost taste the last breath of Kenobi, feel the lightsaber and something…something strange and powerful and like a note in the music of the universe she never heard before.

Even dying, Kenobi can’t do it simply, the overachiever flirt that he is.

This time, it isn’t sleep which makes Asajj leaves this day. This time, it’s the Empire which destroy her little ship, because she had no chance against a Star Destroyer.

The next day, Asajj doesn’t bash her head on metal hull. That day, her ship is already in the system when the Death Star arrives and here she waits, almost in ambush except she has no intention to reveal her presence, all the powers on her ship on shielding it, and too small fry to interest them , ready to collect all information she can.

She sees the destruction of Alderaan in direct and it’s even more terrible on her nerves like that, the Force howling.

And then…then, she feels Kenobi, in a garbage ship. Kneeling on her bunk, she shields herself and she follows him, letting the all she can collect itself in her mind, the useful and the useless, letting it settle, like organic matter in a swamp. When he dies, again, she reaches for him, letting her presence be a last comfort to his light.

Seven days, Asajj does nothing more than arrive before the Death Star, shudder in deep horror for Alderaan and let the fate of Kenobi, every step he takes on that damn space station, enlighten her about the forces in presence.

Before, when she was the Count’s apprentice, she never would have found the patience. She would have raged and yelled and stormed, and probably died even before Kenobi! Now, she knows better. Sometimes, she would swear she can see, at the corner of her vision, her former Master, the first one, the dead one, the Jedi, almost there, almost real, but when she turns, it’s always empty. But she feels it, as she kneels for the entire day, deep in meditation, learning that horrible space station, feeling the lives on board, she feels her dead Master, right there, and he’s so proud a younger Asajj would cry.

So, Asajj learns and Asajj plans, and Asajj thinks to run, but never does. Whatever the Force wants of her, it’s important, too important. Every morning, she jumps from her bunk and goes to repair her motor; to arrive on in the Alderaan system first. She never even checks the date. Now that the Force had put things in motion, It wouldn’t stupidly let time pass normally for Asajj.

Seven days, she waits. She learns. She meditates. Seven days, she reaches for a dying man, and feels him reaching out, sending him comfort. She never need to send peace. Obi-Wan Kenobi dies in peace, like only a Jedi could.

The eighth day, she strikes.

*************************************************************************

When Obi-Wan, Luke, and their pilots arrive on Alderaan, the whole planet is quite busy panicking, in the very polite way they have about it on this world. The old Jedi find Bail and Breha waiting for him the moment he put foot on their soil, and a monstrous blasphemy in the Force high in their sky.

“It arrived hours before you,” the Vice-Roy explains, “and no tentative of contact of our part has been successful. We have been prepping evacuation, but how be sure that any ship leaving the planet won’t be attacked? And there will never be enough ships” At this moment, a technician calls for them and at they move to the holotransmetter, Bail adds quietly, just for Obi-Wan “And we lost contact with Leia’s ship almost three days ago.”

Obi-Wan’s hand claps on his old friend’ shoulder: “She’s alive,” he swears, “I would have felt it in the Force.”

They meet around the holotransmitter and that’s the moment the whole galaxy flickers, like a flame hesitating before going out and continuing….and then it changes and takes a better path. If not an easier one, perhaps simply one with less death. And that’s how it starts, with two scoundrels, one of them quite hairy, one Jedi, two royals and a moisture farmer powerful in the Force, congregating around a blue image of a former Sith, who looks exhausted and a little manic.

“They’re quite busy with me,” she says, “And I have made as much damages to important electronical stuff as I could, so it’s time to board this horror while they’re busy trying to open the command control room to kill me”.

“Ventress?” Obi-Wan asks, after a second of silence.

“Yeah, yeah, Ventress. Don’t tell me I have changed so much, I would be crossed with you, I mean, have you seen yourself? If I hadn’t feel you in the Force, I would never have recognized you. Why have you aged forty years in twenty?”

“Is this a dead body?” Breha interrupted, her gaze fixated on something at Ventress’s feet.

“I have decapitated a Grand Moff,” Ventress admitted, like she was saying space was cold and water wet, “And honestly, someone should have done it long ago.” Her attention was taken by something outside the view of the holotransmitter. “I barricaded myself into Tarkin’s central command, I think it was made in case the space station was boarded by hostiles. But Vader is there, so, you have thirty minutes to help, or it will have all been for nothing, for me and for the young princess in the cells.”

“We’re losing communication,” the Alderaani technician intervened, “someone in the space station understood she was talking to us.”

“I will guide y-“ Ventress had the time to say, then nothing more.

Chewbacca had just the time to extend his arm to stop Obi-Wan from falling.

“Oh.” The Jedi simply said, “Oh. That’s what she meant.”

For the old man, the sensation of Ventress reaching out in the Force was like something long forgotten. Like they had done that already, before, at their most dire times. He was pretty sure he had never reached out into the Force to her, but in that moment…in that moment, it was like coming home, their two Force presences responding to each other, and here, in his mind, Ventress knew just how take the abomination in the sky with minimal blood loss, like she had studied the plans of the Death Star quite extensively, like she understood the thing in and out, and knew what a small determined commando could do, now that she had temporarily blinded the Death Star.  

The rest was quite a busy day. The rest, as Han Solo would say later, was history and he would always be proud to have been there, to the first Death Star battle, when the Alderaan security forces had crept into the Death Star, using the mess Ventress had made. Honestly, he probably wouldn’t have been, if Chewie hadn’t insisted. But he saw history, that day, he saw what a small, determined group of people could do, he saw the impossible fight between Vader, Kenobi and Ventress, and the fall of a giant in the Force.

At the end of the day, Alderaan had won a moon, who would stay there, manned by the Rebel Alliance, as a warning to Star Destroyers who would come knocking. They would never use it on a planet, of course, but the Empire would never win it back and the Rebel Alliance had a new base.

At the end of the day, Asajj Ventress and Obi-Wan Kenobi would try to unravel their Force presences, with no success. “I suppose I could do worse than you,” Asajj would admit, when their third try had sent them directly to bed, because there was a limit of the closeness in the Force two Force sensistives could feel before things started to get physical.

At the end of the day, once all was done, which meant it was closer to the dawn of the next day, Asajj would finally meet the Princess, the one who had started everything, and that she had only peripherally felt in the Force before. She would understand, then, the feeling of her dead Jedi Master in the Force, this sort of giddy joy. “Well met, Padawan”, were the first words of Asajj to the young woman.

[helbramstrauma-main]

Thorn

Masterlist

Albert DaSilva X Reader

A Modern AU: A seemingly perfect life with one thread loose. What happens when you pull it?

Word count: 2089

My world isn't too bad, I follow the rules and good things come from it. That being said, I don't live in the most interesting world. I go to school, get good grades, have a close group of friends. Although I live a boring life, it doesn't mean I don't have hobbies, every day after school I go to the band room. Every day for two hours I play the flute, afterward, I go home for dinner. Soon after that though, I give flute lessons. Don't get me wrong I love playing the flute, but it has become my whole identity. Sometimes I just want to rebel against my family. It isn't that they treat me wrong, but being around them is like being wrapped in bubble wrap. 

Of course millions of people wish they were in my place, not having any real trouble. Of course, I do have a thorn in my side, but it isn't genocide or even abusive. My life is easy, excluding Albert DaSilva, he just seems to wreak my life. However, he seems to be the only exciting thing about it.

History in the basement seems to be the hardest part of my day.  The temperature is unpredictable, but today it seems to be a sauna. Unfortunately, my top is strapless so I have to keep my flannel on. Not to mention that the permanent thorn in my side just happens to be behind me. If Albert wasn't the only interesting part of my life I would never entertain his notes. Alas, he is though, so I always give in. Each of his notes says some silly pick up line, he is shameless. Almost as shameless for when he says, "you know after 15 minutes we can leave if he doesn't show up". That's another painful thing about this class, the teacher is always late, without a doubt. I am brought back into reality when I hear the boom of Mr. Richardson's voice. That's another thing, he talks way too loud.

"Partner time" an audible sigh leaves every person's mouth. Another thing about History is how he chooses groups. Like in elementary school everyone has their name on a popsicle stick and we choose our fates. The sticks are never nice, I usually get stuck with someone who lets me do all the work. Doing work for two people in half the time. It is almost like the list for everything bad in History is never-ending, Richardson's deadlines are never proportionate. Since today is Friday it will probably be due on Monday "since we have the whole weekend to work on it". Goodbye weekend plans. The project guidelines are being passed out and before I even look at it, I can tell it is one of his rambling masterpieces. Every assignment, without a doubt, he writes four paragraphs to say a simple thing, but he always contradicts himself making his class impossible. It is my only B, straight A's then this blemish.

My inner monologue is cut short by the familiar sound of popsicle sticks hitting a plastic cup. Another simultaneous groan fills the room as people start picking names. That is one plus side to this, you get to look at people as their eyes light up or their soul leaves their body after reading their partner's name. He stands in front of me mixing up the sticks, only one thought crosses my head. Not DaSilva, not DaSilva, not DaSilva. I squeeze my eyes shut in anticipation and I let out a breath I've been holding in. Upon opening my eyes I can feel my soul leave my body, Albert DaSilva.

"Don't just stare at it, it isn't going to change?" Richardson says wanting me to announce my partner to the class.

I swallow the saliva that has accumulated in my mouth before saying, "DaSilva". An audible sigh of relief washes over the class. Albert is known for getting on Mr. Richardson's nerves in class and his grade reflects it, and just because it is a group project does not change Mr. Richardson's harsh grades for him. However I don't know why I am not upset, normally the thought of working with Albert is enough to nauseate me, but in practice, it seems to excite me. Why?

After an extensive explanation of the project that somehow doesn't define the project at all, Richardson ends his lecture early to let us make plans with our partners. I spin around in my chair to face the thorn in my side, to see him looking all too pleased. "What are you doing after school, cupcake," He says with a mischievous grin. Why can no one smile normally? Also cupcake? I am not a cupcake! Just ignore him and get this over with.

"To be honest I am surprised you are even planning on doing this project," I say, fully expecting to do all of the work.

He leans farther back on his chair still making eye contact with me, "if you are going to fail the project because of me, it would be impolite not to help" his hand goes over his chest to show mock sincerity. However, as his hand leaves the table he falls backward from his chair. The noise is loud enough to make me jump and I watched it happen. Mr. Richardson yells at him for falling out of his chair. Great, that is another five points off our project.

"I think we can work on the project separately, and just do half the work. I can do the chart, reading, and essay. You can do the PowerPoint and the poster" I say, desperate to not hang out with him.

"But what are you doing after school" Albert persists.

"Band practice, and then I am going home," I say hoping that he just lets it go.

This time leaning on his desk, he sets his head in his hands and looks at me. I can see every detail on his face, I can see faint lines connecting his freckles together. It looks like he tried to wash them off but the faint lines are still there. My eyes wander around his face until they land on his hazel eyes. He isn't saying anything but his eyes are begging. I am not giving in, my parents would never let me go to a guy's house that they never met before. That being said I don't have to tell them, but they will worry about me. I continue to argue with myself, but then I look into Albert's eyes again. I am making a mistake, I am making a mistake, my attempts to reason with myself are useless.

"But practice ends at five, you can pick me up by the pool doors" I commit. No going back now. My mom will be waiting for me on the other side of the school, I cannot let her see me get into his car.

DaSilva's eyes light up even more at me giving in, and he is now grinning ear to ear.

The rest of the school day goes by quickly, but all I can think of is, how I am lying to my parents. I am finally going to be free, I am going to live a little. Of course, my idea of living a little is lying to my parents to do homework, but it is living a little not living a lot. After we are dismissed from band, I practically grab my belongings and sprint to the other wing of the school. Usually, I would stay back to help the teacher clean up, but I cannot risk seeing my mom. Once I make it to the pool doors I see Albert leaning against his car. He spots me and smiles, motioning for me to join him outside. The air conditioner is blasting cold air, instinctively making me wrap my flannel around myself tighter. My phone rings and I see that it is my mom calling. Just let it ring, don't answer it.

"Why aren't you answering your phone?" Albert asks looking down at it.

"I don't recognize the number" I lie.

He just kind of gives me a look before saying, "it says mom at the top, and it has a photo of you two together on the screen". Right, instead of answering Albert or the phone, I simply decline the call and turn off my phone. This earns another strange look from Albert. "You could have just said you guys don't get along".

"No, I'm trying to rebel, live a little. I'm never allowed to go anywhere and I'm 17, I deserve some freedom" I say, being way too honest to the thorn in my side. I may call him a thorn but it dawns on me that all he does is mildly annoy me, but calling him a thorn sounds cool.

"You do know your great rebellion is doing homework, right" Albert is now chuckling, "kind of pathetic".

"What if I did this," I say quickly taking off my flannel slightly to reveal a shoulder. Never in a million years did I expect to be laughing with Albert DaSilva in his car rebelling, but here I am. The rest of the car ride, however, was silent and not the good kind either. We resort to listening to the radio instead. With my phone turned off I don't have anything to do, so I go back to studying Albert.

His ginger hair peaks out of his backward baseball cap and his hands are calloused. His lips are chapped and he has licked them 7 times before we reach his house. Pulling into his garage Albert turns off the music. Shuffling around to collect his things from the back. I simply grab my purse and binders and climb out of the vehicle. Shortly after he leads me into his basement. It isn't finished but behind the stairs, there are a couple of bean bag chairs and coffee table.

"My brothers shouldn't bother us down here," he says sitting in one of the two bean bags. I mimic his action and take out my laptop and History project. The thought of it makes me yawn, but then again I hear Albert's stomach grumble. "Why don't we order some pizza?" Albert phrases as a question but immediately start dialing a number, let me know that we are ordering pizza. "It will be here in thirty minutes"

The time before the pizza arrives, I am able to get through about half of the question of the reading, and Albert is still researching for the PowerPoint. However, after the pizza arrives all productivity comes to a halt. Ignoring the boring assignment, we focus on each other. I can feel Albert's eyes studying me while we talk. To be honest, I would usually be offended, but I am loving the attention. Even though Albert is possibly the most interesting person I know my body is just telling me to sleep.

"Before we get back to work, how about a siesta," I say looking at the boy I used to refer to as a thorn but now is tolerable. Albert is attractive, I have known this for a while, but it is easy to ignore when he is bothering you, but now I see the personality that matches the outside. This shouldn't be allowed, no one should be able to be this level of attractive and have this personality, it is unfair to every other person on earth.

"I don't see the harm in a nap," Albert says kicking his feet onto the bean bag I was sitting on. I take this as a cue to rest my torso on his bean bag. At some point, I rest my head on his chest, and I must admit he makes a good pillow too. I can hear his heartbeat against my head and it soothes me. I can feel myself dozing off when I feel Albert's fingers running through my hair. There is no other way to describe this situation other than, it just feels right.

"You know you're cute, cupcake," Albert says, half asleep.

"You're are not so bad yourself DaSilva," I say equally as exhausted. We fall into another silence but this time, it is the good kind. We fall asleep just like that, with my head on his chest studying his heart's rhythm and his hand tangled in my hair. Needless to say, neither of us set alarms, so neither of us woke up until mourning.

[harostar]

Hi! :) What are your thoughts on the latest snk chap?

I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS.

First and foremost, I agree with many other people that things seemed rushed. I suspect that we will have numerous flashbacks to fill in the gaps, in upcoming chapters.

We know how our cast got from their lowest moment to now, where they are finally starting to move. Finally deciding what they want and what they can live with.

Levi’s full condition remains obscured for now, but I think it’s obvious he won’t be joining the battle on the front lines for a long time. That his lower body remains covered makes me wonder whether he has serious injuries that are going to leave him crippled, beyond the injuries to his face and the missing fingers. 

I already enjoy the dynamic between Hanji and Pieck, both strange intellectuals. I enjoyed the acknowledgement of Hanji as a Titan Researcher, as a scientist on par with the Titan Researchers back in Marley. I’ve been waiting for these parties to sit down at the proverbial table and start talking, because......like damn. They might have fought each other in the past, but their goals ultimately align. None of them trust the Old Marley, and they want to rebuild the world without destroying it. These are all smart, experienced, level-headed folks for the most point. 

Connie’s internal turmoil was painful to watch, but it’s been a long time coming. I ultimately think the confrontation and conclusion were suitable. Maybe not drawn out as it could have been, but Connie needed to explode with emotion and re-examine his priorities. He needed the reminder that the Nine Titans are not a good thing, that they come with a terrible burden and what he was going to do would have disappointed his mother. He’s been on a dark path since Sasha died, and he needed that wake-up call in realizing that he didn’t want to be that person.

Armin, as per usual, defaults to a plan that is basically:

Connie reminds him that constantly trying to get himself killed is stupid. 

Gabi and Falco have a breakdown in the background, which isn’t entirely satisfying but I think worked. We already knew that his reaction would essentially be horror and grief over the deaths that took place. But the bigger focus was on resolving Connie’s downward spiral, and him reaching a point of figuring out what he really wanted. 

The scene with Mikasa and Louise was incredibly tragic. Other people have talked at length about how Louise was ultimately a girl chasing a distant figure, worshiping her idolized vision of a person. She met Mikasa ONCE as a child, and created this entire fictionalized person in her mind to follow. She saw Mikasa’s devotion to Eren, and mimicked it blindly without understanding a single thing about them. She kept telling Mikasa how she was doing things BECAUSE of her, but they were always the wrong things. Chasing after an ideal seems to be a common issue in the series, with people coming to realize what they imagined is not the truth. Louise refused to understand the REAL Mikasa, continuing to insist that she was doing things for her.....while never bothering to listen to Mikasa, or ask how she felt about those things. 

Louise was, ultimately, kind of an obsessed stalker. She didn’t see Mikasa as a person, just an ideal to chase after. And that obsession led her into dark places, and now will end her life. She’s unrepentant, no matter how much Mikasa showed her disapproval or distress. It’s.....disturbing, honestly. And its little surprise that Mikasa ultimately has to walk away from this girl, taking back her scarf as she prepares to confront Eren. She can’t save Louise from her own self-destructive obsession, and she might not be able to save Eren. But Mikasa, at least, is asking questions and realizing what she needs to do.

Floch just.....really needs to be punched in the face until he stops moving. He’s become more and more of a monster, as the story progresses and he finds himself with more power. He gleefully wields it to stir up the masses, justifying Genocide and spinning it as a glorious thing worthy of a festival. It was chilling to watch, honestly. Floch is an evil that needs to be stopped. 

On the other hand, it was refreshing to see those old bonds renewed. Their serious discussion about Annie gets derailed because she’s right there, shoving her face full of pie. I loved that nod to Lost Girls, and Annie freaking out over the donuts. Even when confronted by the people she betrayed, Annie still awkwardly prioritizes finishing what she’s eating. 

Her face is so comical, I don’t blame Connie for losing it. After everything that has happened, I think that moment of levity was exactly what everyone needed. They’ve been through so much, and just.....reconnecting to their Trainee years, and laughing over the Ever-Serious Annie shoving food into her face was what was needed to break the tension.

Connie and Sasha always were good at breaking the ice. Good to see some things haven’t changed.

I’m sure that we’ll see more of that conversation later, how they got from that awkward meeting to being on the same page. I’m also curious as to how much the Warrior Kidlets know her and know OF her. 

And again, we go back to FUCKING FLOCH. Preparing to execute people who don’t fall into line and welcome their new Eldian Masters. He’s eager to start the genocide and purging within Paradis, because he’s drunk on the power leading the Yeagerists gives him. He’s enjoying wielding it to abuse others, and he’s eager to see anyone that doesn’t obey him die. It would start with Volunteers and Marleyan prisoners, but it would end the same way it did before with a Secret Police murdering anyone that steps out of line. In the old days, Floch would have been eagerly torturing Erwin’s father or shooting Armin’s parents. 

Onyankopon knocks it out of the park, calling the Yeagerists out on their hypocrisy. The world they are going to build is no different from the one Marley was trying to make. They have become the oppressors, eager to slaughter innocent people just trying to survive. I’ve always liked him and I love him this chapter, standing up to the mindless hatred and cruelty he is witnessing. He refuses to be a part of that. 

I’m wondering how long before we see how their plan ultimately came about? Either way, I’m forever dying at the conversation with Hanji asking Pieck whether she brushed her teeth as a Titan and Pieck insisting that’s a rude thing to ask a lady. I just......I want to see more of them interacting, their dynamic is already great.

Jean lays out the ultimate reason for everyone acting this chapter, referencing waaaaaaaaaay back to the beginning of the series. So much has changed since Trost, but Jean continues to weigh decisions based on whether he’s honoring Marco’s memory or not. The young man that wanted an easy life of comfort and safety was destroyed when his hometown became a battlefield and he had to burn the mangled corpse of his best friend. Floch tries to recruit him by referencing the selfish kid Jean used to be, and ultimately reminds Jean of who he wants to be. It was a great moment.

And okay, I just.....I just really love that after 4 years, Annie greets Reiner by kicking him in the face. It’s just their dynamic down to the most basic elements. She has no patience for him, and just kicks him out of a coma. The kids provide the buffer between old enemies, while Reiner has another moment of terror revisiting his past and everyone looks at him with such cold eyes. It seems they’ve cleared the air with Annie, as much as possible. 

It’s fitting that Connie is the one to greet Reiner and explain things, because they had such a close friendship. I’ve long wondered whether Connie’s promise would ever be revisited, and how these two would handle a reunion. We saw Reiner completely break down when confronted by Eren. Now, it’s time to see he handles meeting his former comrades. He’s been on such an ugly spiral of despair for so long, so desperate for an end to his pain and only able to continue moving forward because of the kids. He’s got a motivation to keep going in finally, TRULY helping to save the world. But there’s so much unfinished business and so much pain and trauma for the 104th to hash out. 

It’s going to be a wild ride.

[tes-trash-blog]

Maybe this is because I read Ender’s Game and hated it, or maybe this is because I generally hate most war fiction floating around that can be summed up to “we good, they bad, they dead, we win”, maybe I just hate lazy colonization fiction in general. Either way, it’s started an itch about Ysgramor, the Return, and the circumstances surrounding the extinction of the Snow Elves.

So that’s exactly what I’m going to rant about tonight.

TW: Everything.

Part 1. The Circumstances Surrounding The Return, aka Saarthal

So, it’s established in Nordic lore that Saarthal was the first Atmoran city to be constructed. As to where the other Atmorans that braved those seas before Ysgramor’s initial arrival went, your guess is as good as mine. Tamriel was always a safety valve for malcontents and yearners, and there certainly were humans there before the Harbinger. Strangely enough, there doesn’t seem to be remains of the potential villages in Skyrim. Same as the Snow Elven cities that surely dotted the landscape. Hm.

I digress. Saarthal is, for the intents of this rant, the first real city. For reasons lorekeepers are divided on, the Elves attacked. Modern consensus is that the Atmorans discovered the Eye of Magnus, and the Elves wanted it. Elven lorekeepers argue that the attack was a result of various provocations from the city. Either way, the city was sacked, in spite of the city’s best efforts to fight back. Tragic, no matter which way you parse it. So much that Songs of the Return asserts that Ysgramor’s grief was such that he cried tears of ebony, and his son forged Wuuthrad with those tears. On a boat. Using lighting as a forge, and the seawater to cool the metal. All that, and he still managed to get that lovely detail of a caricatured Elf screaming in pain!

Three mourning people, and already their thoughts are not on how to go home and lick their wounds, but how to best kill Elves. Not a single thought to maybe arguing for peace in their homeworld, instead they braved the war torn Atmora to gather warriors.

Violence is not an answer. It is a question, and already Ysgramor’s was shouting a hearty “Yes”.

Part 2. The Return, or Fantasy Manifest Destiny

So in spite of Atmora being a war torn hellhole, Ysgrmaor and his two boys go back. He commissions boats, and finds able warriors to sail with him.

I feel like I don’t need to tell you how expensive boats are. I guess I’m trying to say is the dude had money, or enough social capital to have them commissioned. Either way, he ignored the ongoing war in his own home to wage another across the sea.

“But tes-trash-blog! These were people who have been traumatized! This is their grief talking, and grief does things to you!”

And yet. From Songs of the Return, Volume 2:

“Yngol, the elder, was the brave strategist, bringing his learnings to bear on the battlefield that his enemies would be defeated before they even know the battle had begun. Ylgar, the younger, was possessed of an unwavering spirit that drove his singular prowess to overwhelming feats in war. Together, the mind and the arm, they were capable of sowing a destruction most thorough and glorious to any foe who stood before them.”

So… Three perfectly peaceful, grief-stricken and traumatized folks, but one was strategic enough to “end a battle before it began” and the other was basically a berserker. And yet the Night of Tears was a massacre of innocent civilians. Ysgramor felled a number of Elves during the attack, but they were all innocent civilians.

A goddamn Word Wall says not to ask for peace for peace is weakness, but hey. They were innocent, peaceful people, their hands forced by “treacherous Elves”.

They apparently found battle, “though none remain to tell what those battles entailed”. How convenient. They took slaves, and cut out their tongues.

This is all under the banner of grief, of anger. It’s seems a bit too systematic to be purely emotional, and Songs of the Return even says the Companions were shrewd and sharp. They knew what they doing, but let’s assume they were purely acting out of grief. Let’s assume they only wanted vengeance. Let’s assume their only goal was revenge against those Elves for killing their kind.

Surely they stopped there.

Spoiler alert: they didn’t.

Part 3. A Homicidal Maniac Drives A Race To Extinction. What Happened Next Will (Not) Surprise You

The Elves are dead! Vengeance is complete! Surely Ysgramor, now fully vindicated and no longer hearing the screams of his dead friends, can rest.

Well.. No. As it turns out, he and the rest of the Companions didn’t stop. They went as far as Black Marsh where they killed Argonians, to Elsweyr where they met, killed, and skinned the Khajiit. They even reached Hammerfell, where they met round eared folks. But they were different, so they too found war. It almost seems like grief and trauma and what have you were flimsy excuses to drive an entire culture to extinction.

It almost seems like those Five Hundred Atmorans were a war-hungry bunch, bent on colonizing. The Songs of the Return only ever continues to echo this sentiment, with talk of “rightful claims” and “bringing the light of the proper gods to the heathen land of elves and beasts.”

It’s fantasy Manifest Destiny, plain and simple. It’s a genocide of an indigenous people, and the invasion to other lands because “we good, they bad”.

At best, this is a story of people going mad with grief and rage, and being unable to reconcile that pain. Given that the Companions are still a highly respected faction in Skyrim, one can assume they never learned their lesson.

Part 4. So Where Does This Leave Us?

KA Applegate said it best, in regards to the controversial ending to her Animorphs books:

“Here’s what doesn’t happen in war: there are no wondrous, climactic battles that leave the good guys standing tall and the bad guys lying in the dirt. Life isn’t a World Wrestling Federation Smackdown. Even the people who win a war, who survive and come out the other side with the conviction that they have done something brave and necessary, don’t do a lot of celebrating There’s very little chanting of ‘we’re number one’ among people who’ve personally experienced war.”

And John Kessel doubles down on that in his essay “Creating The Innocent Killer”, which I highly recommend:

“Ender gets to strike out at his enemies and remain morally clean. Nothing is his fault. Stilson already lies defeated on the ground, yet Ender can kick him in the face until he dies, and still remain the good guy.  Ender can drive bone fragments into Bonzo’s brain and then kick his dying body in the crotch, yet the entire focus is on Ender’s suffering. […] As Elaine Radford has said, ‘We would all like to believe that our suffering has made us special—especially if it gives us a righteous reason to destroy our enemies.’

But that’s a lie.  No one is that special; no one is that innocent.”

Substitute Orson Scott Card’s self insert Gary Stu with Ysgramor, the names of his enemies with Snow Elves. Go ahead, I’ll be right here.

Genocide is genocide, be it caused by grief or rage or land dispute or magic eyeballs.

And yet that pride over genocide, that elevation of Ysgramor is one of the Nord’s more defining traits. They’re a proud, boisterous people who frown on magic because it’s the work of “weaker races”, who honor the Companions even though they’re basically mercenaries with a genocide fetish (see: The Silver Hand, the Glenmoril Witches), who drink and get rowdy and are so goddamn proud of their axes. It’s an open carry nation that makes it abundantly clear that outsiders aren’t welcome. They are descendants of killers, as are most races in Tamriel, but they never let you forget it. Hell, the more popular skald song is “The Slaying of the Falmer Princes”. In game, you can barely walk into a tavern without hearing a bard say “Kill Ulfric!” or “Kill the Invaders!”. The latter is pretty ironic, if you think about it.

Once I heard someone somewhere say, “Well, the Elves deserved it.” I can’t remember where, it may have actually been an argument in real life, but they refused to say anymore. I assume this is what all arguments for Ysgramor and against the Elves boils down to.

So. Did the Snow Elves deserve extinction? Did the Elven civilian at modern day Fort Greenwall deserve to be cut down? Did his daughter, who wasn’t even born when the Night of Tears happened? The women and priests deserve debasement and slavery? What of those whose tongues were cut out from their mouths, those who were crushed under black quarry stone while forced to build Windhelm?

Or is “they deserved it” just an excuse, a candy pill to swallow so the offender can avoid bitter truth?

[baby-girl-aaron-dessner]

Palestinian poet, Refaat Alareer

[muses-darling]

Fire & Fury - A Star Wars AU - Ch.8 Engineer

Tracing his pen across the screen watching the display come to life as line after line met his design coming to life. Prototypes of various inventions littered the shelves of his office a partially drunk very cold mug of caf sat undisturbed. Humming as he sketched he brushed a lock of ginger hair from his face. So far today had been less than exciting but that was perhaps the best for productivity? He pushed back from the desk stretching standing feeling his joints move into place after being sedentary for so long. His muscles remembered what moving felt like with pain. He really ought to move more often. His stomach growled again and he knew why he had gotten up, a brain thought better with food in the belly. He also needed more caf, opening the door of his office he noticed nothing out of the ordinary till a realization that the whole facility had gone eerily quiet like the dead. Peering around gave him no insight, he boarded the lift tapping the buttons and giving a imput of his code cylinder he made his way down to the kitchens. Halfway through the lift flickered then came to an abrupt stop. 

A glow of heated metal came through the lift door just a small part that almost as if by cutting continued in a circle before the force pulled the whole chunk away revealing a trio of what looked to be Sith. 

“No- no NO!” He threw the cup of cold caf at them watching it freeze in the air and shatter as one stopped it. 

“Hello Casper.” Darth Ceres smiled her hood concealing all but her mouth of her face. “We need someone of your expertise.”

________________________________________________________________

“I do not believe it is wise to go all the way to the Chorlian system,” Will said from where he stood at the center of the Senate floor. “Meeting the Sith on their doorstep. Is foolishness, it is genocide of our troops. What hope of victory can we possibly bring? We have not experienced an attack from the Sith in quite some time. To mount an attack after this peace we have seemingly felt is to incur their wrath.”

“Ah like the planet you serve Senator always looking for the peace where there is none.” A Senator mocked him.

Will turned, “I agree that the peace is only temporary, we should use it to give aid where it is needed. Rebuild, was Coruscant not just a mere few months ago under siege? What rebuilding effort have we made since? There are people on not just this planet but many others who cry out for help and we offer no aid when we can?”

“We are spread too thin besides now may be the most opportune moment to bring about the peace we seek by striking a blow on the Sith while their guard is down.”

“I tell you their guard is not down.” Will glared at them.

“What do you know of their guard Senator? What do you know of the Sith?” The Chancellor asked him.

“I-” 

“Precisely, this attack is advised by the Jedi even, they too want this war done and over with. If we crumble this wall we will end this before long peace will be at hand and we can do as you suggest Senator.” The Chancellor told him.

Will wanted nothing more than to give them all a taste of his mind but he had the people to think about. “Then I move that when this is over that we focus our efforts to rebuilding the Republic.” 

“I second,” The Senator of Alderaan said.

Will looked to Adrienne and smiled, she was always on his side. 

“Then we put it to a vote.” The Chancellor said.

The vote of course went to the affirmative but only for appearance sake. They would squabble and nothing would come of it. Will moved through the crowd feeling Adrienne touch his arm. 

“A moment?”

Will looked to her, “Of course.”

“I will be helping hand out rations today and wondered if you would join me? Perhaps if the people see that there are at least some Senators who care they won’t feel as abandoned?”

“You say Senators like there will be more than the two of us?”

“The Senator of Chandrilla and the Senator of Hapes Consortium will be joining as well.”

Will nodded. “I’ll see what I can do besides helping pass out rations, I’m sure there are some clothes and blankets to be found.” 

“That would be marvelous.” Adrienne smiled warmly. “How is the Queen?”

“Jane- Queen Ev’lyn is quite healthy.”

“And the pregnancy?” She asked quieter. 

“Our children were born without any problems. I get to see them when I make communications to Naboo.” Will smiled pulling out a small disk of a Holo photo showing twins who were at least six months old. 

“How precious.” Adrienne smiled.

“My daughter has a variation of your middle name for hers.” 

“Rosaline?”

“Rosemary.” Will smiled. “Her first name is Katherine.”

“And your son?”

“Abra’ham Fitzwilliam,” Will grinned.

“Oh Will that is so sweet.”  

________________________________________________________________

Hades was not the only one to tag Kit with some form of tracking, Crowley had done the same but with the force. Following it’s signature to the planet of Eadu the wild storms that ravaged the planet fit well with the current state of Crowley’s nerves. “Stay here,” He told Ben and Harper. “Guard the ship, guard Jules.” 

“But-” Ben started before Aziraphale fixed him with a look. “We don’t know what is out there and we don’t know who has Kit, right now we need you both here with Juliet.”

Crowley and Aziraphale moved silently and stealthily along the path curving through the cliff side. Rocks fell from the path way to the chasm below but neither one noticed their focus was elsewhere, elsewhere and keeping them from joining those rocks to smash upon their likeness far below. Lightning illuminated their way as they moved from one stretch of the path to the other. The path opened up revealing a research facility. 

Entering in as quiet as possible they made their way through the dimly lit building the silence broken by the thunder and nothing else. A console before them held security footage. “Angel guard me while I have a look.”

Aziraphale wanted to protest but knew there had to be a reason for Crowley keeping him from looking. Crowley was always good at knowing these things. 

Fingers flashed upon buttons and the screen till Crowley froze his face gave nothing away but his eyes they betrayed him first. 

“Crowley?” Azirphale asked his eyes looking to Crowley.

Crowley looked up, “Aziraphale...” 

It was all he had to say, his face now gave everything away. From the way that his lips twinged in sadness, to the way his eyes moved between what they saw on the screen to Aziraphale. The little head shake of disbelief, the tremble of lips that told Azirphale that what Crowley was feeling was strong so strong it swept the mask of calm away. 

Aziraphale moved to see the screen but Crowley pressed a button blackening the screen.Things moved slowly, “We missed him.” He said to Aziraphale. “We missed him!” Crowley stood up only for the weight of what he had seen. Aziraphale to catch him.

Aziraphale knew what he was going to see wasn’t going to sit well with him but seeing Crowley like this he had too. Curious Angel, he tapped a button watching as Kit stood before a cowering man only to cut him down, the audio wasn’t there but anyone could see the man had pleaded before Kit slew him. Kit walked up to the camera blood covering his face grinning with terrible Sith eyes then the feed cut out. Azirphale heard Crowley sobbing in his arms as his own tears fell into the forest of ginger hair that grew from his husband’s head. “Oh Kit.” What could have happened to him? What could have turned him? They had trained him so well!

The door came skittering off the hinges stopping at just before them as a sleek bronze colored droid entered. “Greetings: Hello Meatbags! I have come for my master.” 

Aziraphale frowned at the odd droid before moving from Crowley towards the strange droid. He grabbed the blaster yanking it away from blasting him and reaching behind he knew the model well, he had read about them and with a flick the droid powered down. 

When it powered back up HK-47 looked up from his powered down state. “Greetings: Salutations organic, might I be made aware of where my Master has gone? My last readings sense he was here. Have you seen him?”

“Most peculiar,” Aziraphale said studying him. “Kit never mentioned you.”

“I have had many masters.”

“And who is your creator?”

“Statement: Why Hades better known as Lord Ignis.” HK-47 said.

“I think I preferred him slightly more homicidal.”

“Oh hush,” Azirphale waved Crowley’s suggestion away. “I think he is more charming this way.”

“Agreement: But I cannot fathom hurting organics such as you in my current state I love all organics with every fiber of my wiring.” HK-47 said to Crowley. “Charm is not in my programming originally but I am adaptable.”

“Excellent!” Aziraphale smiled. “Do you have a ship?”

“Answer: No mine was destroyed upon getting here.”

“Then you shall have to come aboard ours.”

“OURS!?” Crowley said standing up. “I’ll have you know that is very much my ship!”

Azirphale fixed Crowley with a look.

Crowley crossed his arms. “And just what do you think that I’m going to let it anywhere near Juliet?”

“Do you want to find Kit?”

“Yes.” Crowley said as if it were obvious before looking at the Droid who had said yes in unison with him.

“Then I suppose unless you have any better ideas you just let me adopt the robot for the time being.”

“Droid Azirphale no one calls them robots.”

Aziraphale smiled a smile that told you that he knew he had won before walking back to the ship. 

Hk-47 followed Azirphale complimenting him on his ability to out maneuver the droid in close combat.

Aziraphale returned the compliment with one about the droid standing up to two jedi.

This was followed by HK-47 making a comment about killing jedi with no problem.

Azirphale chose to treat this like a joke patted the droid on the arm and told him that it was refreshing to hear someone who had a sense of humor.

Crowley both loved that smug expression and wanted to kiss it off of that cherubic face.  Watching the two leave and getting along like old friends was an odd sight to anyone who didn’t know Azirphale who saw the best in anyone. Crowley looked back at the console a shudder. Looking back at his husband and the droid in the distance with an exasperated sigh Crowley threw up his hands following after both too his ship mouthing, ‘unless you have any better ideas.’ Followed by, ‘I’ll show you a better idea.’ 

[cheeseboymcgee]

Voltron Unpopular Opinion:

I’m happy with how voltron ended. 

(below the cut is my opinion and analysis on Allura’s ending, Lance’s ending, and Shiro’s ending along with my reasoning for why Shiro’s ending was better than we think it was.)

Now concerning people’s three biggest yelling points:

Allura giving up her life is something she came to terms with and understood what was necessary to save realities. She’s always been someone who’s cared about others and her story line has been one of becoming a person who needs to make hard decisions, who can empathize with people who are different than her, to trust but remain practical. In short, to be a leader, a guardian to her people. In the first episode on her date with Lance, he brings her to his family and she is conflicted because she wants a family. But she wants HER family and it would have never happened had she not taken this. She could have found a happiness on Earth but there would always be that part of her that yearns for the home she’d grown up in. She couldn’t have Altea but she could have her Father, she could have a group of people who understand.

Lance has always lacked confidence. He feigns it to try and gain others’ favor and his evolution has been one of self realization: self action to do what makes him happy. Yes, he wanted to be a pilot, a fighter with accolades, with prestige, and with valor. But looking at this and his issues of self doubt and self worth in the shows, he wants this for the recognition, as a way to make himself important in the eyes of others without realizing that people love him for who he is, not what he is. Yes, he could have found piloting a thing that he likes, but he’s achieved that dream, as a Paladin of Voltron, constantly on the front for years, risking his life and saving the lives of trillions of living things in the end. He’s always been good with animals, he understands them. He works with Kaltenecker and finds a peace with it. To farm, to bring life from the soil, to support people and care for them, this brings him peace too, as well as spreads the message of the woman he still clearly loves. He can let himself live a simple and peaceful life because he is content with himself, who he is.

As for Shiro, the Voltron writers, I believe, crafted a man who did one thing better than anyone else in that world could: do the impossible and fight against the odds. He was abducted, enslaved, forced into gladiatorial combat, escaped, crashed, and went back into space again. He joined a war as the leader of the opposing side, he fought and had his life force ripped from his body and thrown into an abyss where he kept himself sane and together until he could be returned to a physical body. He’s survived things alone that the Paladins hardly survived together. He’s a warrior, and he’s a very tired man. The character of Shiro was one without a predictable path initially, as comparing the original series to the Netflix one, he doesn’t have much convergence. But the Voltron writers took this divergence and turned it into a story of a man who continues to get up over and over again, who continues to suffer unjustly, just as many people in reality do, for the simple sake of being able to put down his weapon and never having to reach for it again, a lasting peace where he can leave the battlefield and indulge himself in a life a stability and certainty.

The fact that Shiro is, and always has been (in the Netflix adaptation) gay/queer is, and I can’t believe that I HAVE to say this but, not essential to the plot and therefore it would not make sense for him to discuss this. There could have been places that this MAY have worked, when he found out Adam died he could have talked to Allura since they’ve both lost people without being able to give a proper goodbye (Adam and Shiro arguing before Shiro went to space and Lotor loosing his mind and bending back to his evil plan), he could have talked to Keith about accepting himself as a queer man just as Keith has to accept himself as Galra, we could have had seen Shiro’s husband to be comfort him instead of Veronica when the Atlas went down, to have a direct one on one interaction, But this is not how things were done and so watchers either must accept it or stop watching as watchers always have.

The thing about Shiro being gay and his gayness not brought up in the context of a show about intergalactic war in a way makes me strangely happy inside, like it was more appropriate to the tone. Not every gay person is going to go about announcing, talking about, “being” gay to everyone and everything they come in contact with. Shiro is a serious man, not that gays can’t be serious, but he’s serious in a way that he blocks out everything and anything that isn’t vital to what he has to do before him.

Would it have been nice to see it, to hear the words come out of his mouth?

Yes?

Am I upset that in a children’s show about intergalatic war, genocide, rebirth, hope, and big ass fucking  robots didn’t make him state this explicitly?

Not really, no. I’m pretty okay with how things are. I saw a grown man who played a vital role in the show have a marriage to another man, and in clear animation kiss him. And all this wasn’t some sort of joke but a serious and happy moment for all the characters.

What’s more, Shiro is someone who found joy and fulfillment as a pilot, a commander, and a leader. He isn’t defined and characterized solely by his queerness, but it is simply given to be a part of him. A part that was always intended for him before the reveal. There was no build up to the “Adam Event”, it was plainly stated. He isn’t pursuing others in the show and others do not pursue him. While (note) this may be my own personal opinion, but a character does not need to be in a relationship, explicit or otherwise, for them to be considered queer representation. It was given to us that he is queer and if he never was shown to get in another relationship again I would have been just as happy about it.

Point is, there is no way for them to have made everyone happy. Make him a very out and talk about it gay man and people would complain about it being not right for the tone or stereotyping, make it subtle and people would denounce it for not being overt representation, make it a big plot point and people complain that it’s turning the story into dramatic romance. Do what they did and call it “fake bandage representation” or queerbaiting.

I know, you know, we all know reasonably there isn’t a way to please everyone. Nothing is perfect, but for me to see two adult men, animated to look like adult men, realistic to a point (more realistic, humanistic than Ruby and Sapphire, Bubblegum and Marciline{sp?} and other western animated shows) to be happy and have an overt kiss was a shock in that I never expected it. We are breaking the walls on Queer representation in animated western media, but many of these breakthroughs are with wlw characters which our society has made generally more acceptable because we see female sexuality not only as something we can control but also more mutable (and fetishized) where as we keep men in such a strict box of sexual expectation and gender performance.

Shiro is a strong and “masculine” male lead with both physical, emotional, and mental strength, leadership skills, self-assured-ness, and very decisive. But he’s also empathetic, understanding, gentle, a listener, a team player, and a gay man who doesn’t seek relationships. He follows his dreams: one was to go to space, and then one to leave the battle. He got both of these and he got his happily ever after, not because he married, because a happily ever after is not marriage and domestic bliss, because he returned to earth and has made a life that makes him boundlessly happy.

Is that not what we want for ourselves? To be happy, to see ourselves happy?

[tysoncoxum2021-blog]

Mr. Lovato Book Report: Tyson Coxum

Shows how brutal and the mass amount of number of Armenians killed during the Armenian Genocide.

This is Constantinople, where Vahan fled to in order to become free.

This is Bitlis, Turkey, where Vahan and his family grew up.

Adam Bagdasarian, author of, Forgotten Fire.

Thumbnail Photo of Character for site

Timeline:

July 28, 1914

World War 1 Begins

April 24, 1915

Armenian and Turkish war begins

November 11, 1918

End of World War 1

August 18, 1920

Women gained right to vote

Winter, 1915

Vahan’s dad is taken away by Turkish police and his uncle goes missing

Winter, 1915

The officers take Vahan’s family to a camp where his sister takes poison and grandma is shot while on a march.

Spring, 1916

Vahan and his remaining brother escape, but lose each other in an altercation.

Spring, 1916

Vahan stays with Selim Bey, a murderer, for shelter and food, but later leaves that place too.

Journal Entries:

1915

    My life right now is absolutely fantastic. I have everything I want or need and there is not a thing in the world that can stop my happiness. I live in a big house with all of my brothers and sisters. I have a mother and father who both live together and give me lots of love. There is always a hot meal prepared for me when I am hungry and there is constantly running warm water for when I take a shower. When I am tired, I know that I have a nice cozy bed to lay down and get a good night’s rest. When I am sick, I can depend on my sister to feed me and help me feel better. Man, my life is great. I belong to one of the wealthiest families in Bitlis, so I am confident that I will always have these luxuries wherever I go. I feel on top of the word, like nobody can stop me. The only thing that is putting a little darkness on my perfect world is that a couple of Turkish officers took my father and uncle away a couple of days ago and they have not come back yet. I know that they will return soon because they have done nothing wrong, but I am still curious why those officers needed them. It is only a matter of time before my dad and uncle come back. Other than that, life could not be better.

A couple months later:

    Everything has gotten so much worse. Remember when I said that things were all perfect and peachy. Well, not anymore. In fact, things are the exact opposite of that right now. I don't have long to write, so I will make this brief. Those same officers that took my father and uncle away came back to my house and ransacked the place. They led us all out into our garden and lined us up shoulder to shoulder. They asked all of my brothers and myself how old we were. Once we gave them all of our ages, they lined my two oldest brothers up against our wall. Then they pulled out there rifles and shot both of my brothers right before our eyes. It was so gruesome and disgusting. That wasn't even the worst part, to be sure that my brothers were dead, the soldiers put their barrels direct on my brothers’ skulls and fired. All that was left was a blood stained wall and two collapsed bodies that were once my brothers. Then, the soldiers took us away to some camp where other Armenians, just like us, were also being held. At this camp, Turkish officers would rape the women that were imprisoned. My sister was so afraid of being the next rape victim, that she drank poison, which later led to her death and end of her sufferage. That is now the third family member that I have seen killed today. I do not know how much more I can handle before I die too. We are being starved, parched, and held in poor living conditions. I cannot talk now, I hear the footsteps of the officers coming. I have to go.

A few weeks later:

    It has been a couple of weeks now and things have continued to get worse. My mom realized that the only way that we have a chance for survival, is if me and my brother escape and try to live on our own.  So, that night, my brother and I escaped by sneaking out the door, crawling through freezing cold water, with piles of bodies, ad walking over 10 miles through the night to a little city. When we arrived, we were instantly faced with the struggle of not being spotted by Turkish police. We came extremely close to being caught, but we were able to duck into a dark alleyway. However, the police were still able to see us, so we ran as fast as we could. Unfortunately, we ran in different directions and lost each other. Now, I am cold, thirsty, hungry, and alone. I do not know if I will see him again, but I really hope I do. He was the one that kept me going when I was cold and wet and had to walk over ten miles. He is the one that protected me and made me strong. Without him, I do not know if I have the strength or energy to go on. I have to do something or else I will starve to death. Tomorrow, I will try to find some food and shelter. Until next time.

   Many weeks after:

    Since last time, things have started to get a little better. I had nowhere to go for shelter because I was too afraid to be caught by Turkish officers. So, I decided to visit my old friend’s, Patoo, house to live with him and his mother. They were also a victim of the Armenian killings because Patoo’s older brother and dad were also shot by Turkish police. They have been so nice to me by providing me food, cold water for drinking, warm water for bathing, and shelter so I can finally get a good night’s sleep. I had to sleep in a closet all the way in the back though because Patoo’s mother was afraid that the Turkish police would come back and search the place. Upon finding me, they would murder the two of them along with myself. However, I was still grateful that she took me in and took care of me as if I was her own child. Unfortunately, the moment I feared has come. I have left her no choice, but to release me onto the street again. Her fear of the Turkish police searching her house grew stronger everyday that I was there. She gave me some food and water for my journey and a last hug before I stepped out once again onto the harsh streets. I will always be thankful for the hospitality that she showed me. Now, I must find another place to stay and survive. I will write again when I have found some spare time, but I must hurry before it gets dark.

Personal Narrative:

Forgotten Fire, by Adam Bagdasarian

    My name is Vahan Kenderian. I was born and raised in Bitlis, a province of Turkey, where I was always surrounded by beautiful scenery. I came from one of the wealthiest families in Bitlis and I lived in one of the bigger houses. I lived there for 12 long years, never having to worry about a single thing, until, things started to spiral out of control. Both my dad and uncle were taken from my home by Turkish police. Both of my older brothers were shot and killed right before my very own eyes. My family was taken to a camp were I saw women getting raped, my sister die of poisoning, and my grandma killed when a Turkish officer bashed her face with a rock to kill her. I was able to escape from the camp with my last brother, left mom and last sister behind, but we were separated during a scuffle.  In order to survive, I had to fight, become a beggar, and even live inside the house of one of the masterminds behind all of the killings.  I managed to escape by pretending to be a military officer in order to travel to a far away town and get help by some very generous people. They were able to get me on a ship to Constantinople, where I was able to be free and share my horrific story with millions. I was reunited with my sister many years later and we lived together forever.

Links Relevant to Book:

https://www.kirkusreviews.com/book-reviews/adam-bagdasarian/forgotten-fire/

Critical Review

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/144463.Adam_Bagdasarian

Quotes and a little background information about the author

www.cilicia.com/armo10b.html

Devoted to eye witness accounts and family histories of the ordeal.

www.ushmm.org

United States Holocaust Memorial Museum

Historical Links:

https://www.armenian-genocide.org/

Official site dedicated to the study, research, and affirmation of the Armenian genocide.

https://www.history.com/topics/womens-history/19th-amendment-1

Gives background information on the events leading up to women getting the right to vote

https://www.history.com/topics/world-war-i/world-war-i-history

Detailed article about the causes of World War 1

https://www.britannica.com/event/World-War-I

Facts and causes about World War 1

Significant Quotes:

"This is how steel is made," he said, which was what our father used to say whenever circumstances tested our character, which wasn't very often. "Steel," my father said, "is made strong by fire." And this was our fire. But I did not feel like steel.” (55)

Vahan's dad's words are super important to how Vahan develops as a character, and the meaning of the book. It's clear that Vahan needs to suffer to become stronger.

“Strangely, I wondered who would light the street lamps tonight, and somehow all those unlit lamps and the lamplighters who were not there to light them were the most hopeless sight of all”. (31)

This quote shows us exactly how Vahan is thinking about his life. He is not only thinking about what is going to happen to him and his family, but somehow what it means for the community too. It seems hopeless that no one is even around to light the streets or do the day-to-day things that keep a society running.

“But this time was different. This time I sensed that something might be wrong, and every time I'd start to enjoy my freedom, I'd see my father being led away by the gendarmes”. (12)

When the gendarmes take Vahan's dad, he starts to think about his freedom more seriously. It's always been something he's taken for granted, but he now realizes that he might lose this freedom before he knows it.

“If there is any trouble," he said, "take the poison and it will all be over." No one asked him what kind of trouble could be worse than death. They all seemed to know.” (21)

I think it's fair to say that the women in Vahan's life have it worse than the men. Vahan sees first hand how violated they are by the soldiers, and how much they have to suffer, just because they are women.        

Response #1:

    I believe that life is determined by fate and not by the choices you make. This perspective on life has led me to believe that the world is unfair to those who try to do nothing, but good. For instance, my older brothers. They did nothing, but do their jobs and be good sons. This did not stop those Turkish officers from pulling them out of their own house and shooting them in broad daylight. Another example was my older sister. When we were taken to the camp, she took poison because she was afraid that she would be the next rape victim. This is unfair to her and all of the other women in that camp because they did nothing wrong. They were punished just for being a certain race. Therefore, I believe that you can do every right decision there is, but it will not make you immune to what fate has in store for you. I just do not understand why the nicest and kindest people get punished before the wicked people in the world. I think that it is so unfair that all of these good people had to die just for all the monstrous people in the world can  continue to do more horrible things. It just does not seem right. I believe that nobody in the world should suffer, but I would rather have the wretched people suffer over the people who do nothing wrong.

Response #2

    I define success as overcoming all the obstacles in life to get what you want and earned. I believe that I have achieved success for many reasons. The first reason is that I am finally free. I no longer have to run and hide every time I see a Turkish officer. I no longer need to worry about whether or not I am going to eat today or have a place to sleep. All of my worries of being captured and thrown back in that camp again to rot and suffer are gone. The other reason that I believe that I have achieved success is that I am finally happy. Even though these last 5 years of my life have been filled with darkness, death, and suffrage, I have finally made it to a point in my life where I can be happy. There is not a single day that goes by without remembering the murders of my family members or the suffering in the faces of others. However, it was this dark and brutal time that helped me understand that life is truly valuable and you should cherish every last moment of it before it is gone. Without these experiences, I would not be the man I am today. I have overcome so much in the last few years and now I get to tell my story to the world. I get to help people understand the important life lesson that you do not live forever, so you should make the most of life before it is too late.

Response #3

    I have multiple people in my life that are important to me. However, there are three people that I would not be the person I am today, without. The first person is my sister Oskina. When I was sick, she would help nurse me back to health and she was someone that I could always rely on for help. She was like a second mother to me. When I escaped the camp and left her behind, it was like I left behind a part of myself. I was lost, until we were reunited. We have been inseparable since. The second person that means a lot to me is my older brother, Sisak. When we escaped from the camp together, he was the one that helped me keep going forward. He pushed me through the freezing water, the 20 mile trek, and kept my mind off of starving to death. Without him, I would have stopped and been a part of all the other bodies who became victims of the genocide. I owe it to him that I still have my life today. Unfortunately, he died of an illness during the genocide when we were separated, but his soul and strength remains with me at all times. The last person that really means a lot to me is my father. He is the one that helped me keep my dignity and strength when things got tough. If it wasn’t for him, I would have been some low life beggar for the rest of my life. He also died during the Armenian Genocide, but I will be sure to carry his legacy on for generations to come. I owe it to these three people that I am the man I am today and I will always be grateful for what they did for me.

Response #4

    If I could change one thing in my life, I would change that my family was never split up. If this happened, we would all be living in peace right now because the war would be over. We would be able to live without another worry about being captured or tortured again. We would be able to suffer through things together and be strong together, instead of being separated and weak on our own. We would be able to help comfort one another when things were not looking so good for us. It would be hard at first, but we would know that we were going to be just fine. That soon all of the suffering will be over and everything would be able to go back to normal. The things that we survived through would only make us stronger as a family. We would practically be invincible because we went through so much together and nothing would be able to break our cemented bond with one another. This would be impossible to have, since everything has already taken its course, but it sure would be nice to have my family with me.

[ayanamimon]

IMPACT // Island Confrontation

[previous/next]

As Golurk touched down on Utmost Island, Rei climbed onto their shoulder to survey the landscape. The island wasn’t large by any stretch of the imagination; from the looks of things, it would barely be able to fit downtown Jubilife and nothing more.

While heavy, lush foliage covered the island, Rei could make out the very top of some sort of temple sticking out over the trees. If Mew was going to be anywhere, it was there.

“You ready?” Asuka asked as her girlfriend jumped down to the ground. “They might already be here... if I were you, I’d send out Zee or Banette. Probably both.”

“...good idea.” Golurk would soon find themselves back inside their ball, recalled in favor of Zee. The cybernetic Pokemon noticed the temple in the distance and began to speed ahead by himself, but Asuka’s Talonflame stepped in to keep that from happening. “Not quite yet, Zee... we need to wait for Dr. Akagi before-”

Speak of the devil. “I’m ready. Ready as I’ll ever be, at least.” Ritsuko handed Magnezone’s ball back to Rei, having used them to get to the island. “I’m assuming you’ll lead the way, Rei?”

Rei nodded. As she looked back towards the temple, her eye twitched... while she didn’t show it, or at least tried not to, it infuriated her that she would have to confront the man who created her again. 

But if he was going to force her to show up, she’d make sure this would be the absolute last time.

She didn’t respond; she simply began marching ahead, Zee by her side. Asuka and Ritsuko exchanged a concerned glance before they followed Rei down the winding, overgrown path leading to the temple.

Shining a small light from his eyes, Zee led the way as Rei, Asuka, and Ritsuko followed down the temple’s main hall. Even with the illumination, they found themselves struggling to see well. Occasionally, paths branching off to the sides of the hall could be seen, but the layout seemed rather straightforward; it was better they keep moving ahead. They didn’t want to get lost, after all.

As the hall came to an end, Zee’s light shone upon what seemed to be the entrance to the main room, guarded by an enormous stone door... that had been blasted right through.

They’d been beaten here.

“Scheiße... Scheiße, we’re too late, aren’t we?” Asuka stamped her foot on the ground out of frustration. “Dammit, I knew this wou-”

“Quiet.” After shushing Asuka, Rei cloaked herself beneath her hood and crouched down as she peered through the shattered door. Sunlight illuminated the room through a hole in the ceiling, shining down on an ancient shrine that appeared to be dedicated to Mew. In front of it stood two old men, two men Rei instantly recognized. Two men whose very presence made Rei’s blood boil.

With Zee ready to attack, she stepped through the door, hands balled into fists.

“Back away from the shrine.” Her voice echoed through the cavernous room, prompting Charon and Lorenz to turn around. “I do not want to fight... I hope you understand that provoking Mew and Arceus will lead to... disastrous consequences.”

Lorenz, seeming slightly taken aback by Rei’s presence, shook his head. “Quite the contrary... perhaps you may see the consequences as disastrous. However, Instrumentality... uniting all souls into a single, collective existence... it will completely erase the imperfections of human nature. Why would you oppose such a thing?”

Sensing a fight, the old man released his Malamar. “All the conflict and discord in this world can be traced back to our flaws as a species. Our physical weaknesses, our mental insecurities... all of that would be eliminated by a single, perfect existence. Granted... I’m not surprised that you wouldn’t understand. From what your father has told me, you seem rather... incapable... of comprehending such things.”

“He is not my father.” Her growing fury had begun to bleed into her voice; it took on an aggressive tone very rarely heard from Rei. As she looked over towards Charon only to see a mocking smirk on his face, she continued, “He does not have the slightest idea of what my life is like... everything he says stems from my refusal to be his perfect little doll.”

Ritsuko stepped forward, trailed by her hulking Metagross. “Quit deflecting, Mr. Lorenz. What you call a ‘perfect existence’ is what the rest of us would consider tantamount to genocide. I’d recommend you stand down and turn Charon in before you make things worse for not only yourself, but all life on the planet.”

Lorenz stood stoically for a few moments, as if he were contemplating Ritsuko’s ultimatum; it really was difficult to decipher him beneath the visor he wore.

“Malamar, deal with this before it becomes a headache.” He turned away, acting almost as if the confrontation wasn’t worth his time, as his Malamar suddenly flashed out of sight. Zee beeped frantically as he tried to locate where the squid would re-materialize; it would be right behind him, and before anyone could realize it, the Malamar let loose a brutal Superpower attack on the unsuspecting Zee.

“Holy shit...! Talonflame, Sturzflug, now!” Asuka’s Talonflame would indeed be the next to go after the Malamar, flying up as high as the temple’s ceiling would allow before tucking their wings in and diving straight at their target.

Normally, this would have been a fantastic move; the Malamar had just performed the immensely draining Superpower, meaning its guard would be down. At least, that would’ve been the case had its ability not been Contrary. Instead of taking the impactful Brave Bird like Asuka had expected, the Malamar smashed its tentacles against the ground, lifting up large chunks of stone with its psychic powers and flinging them at Talonflame. Already mid-attack, Talonflame had no chance to dodge the oncoming Rock Slide, and they crashed to the ground hard.

As both Asuka and Rei rushed to check on their fallen Pokemon, only Ritsuko’s Metagross remained standing. The monstrous metal arachnid stormed ahead, seemingly preparing to unleash a Meteor Mash. The Malamar, however, had other plans, again warping out of harm’s way. This time, though, Metagross guessed correctly that it’d show up right behind him, and turned to swing at the Malamar when it did.

Not even catching on to its tricks would save the Steel-type, though; as the Malamar re-materialized, its Contrary-backed strength allowed it to counter the attack easily before unleashing a flurry of Night Slashes on its target. Metagross tried to stay upright after the barrage, even with their body sliced up by the Malamar, but ended up collapsing.

Fear took hold of fury as Rei, clutching Zee in her arms, looked up to see her creator and Lorenz glaring at her. That Malamar... she didn’t know exactly what it had been put through, but it seemed nigh-unstoppable. If it could make such short work of some of their most powerful Pokemon, then...

“Hmph.” Lorenz reached into his coat; Rei’s immediate instinct was that he had a gun, but once she saw the purple top half of an empty Master Ball, she almost wished she’d been right. “It really wouldn’t have mattered if you did defeat my Malamar. It wouldn’t have stopped me from capturing Mew... do you see now, Ayanami? How foolish you are?”

“Big talk for someone who thinks he can tell Arceus what to do,” Asuka suddenly cut in, marching between Rei and Lorenz. “Listen, arschloch, you don’t even know if Mew’s gonna show up, so what’s the point of-”

“Malamar.” At Lorenz’s command, the Malamar suddenly began flashing its lights, emitting a strange psychic energy that manifested as a beam aimed at Asuka’s head. Once it made contact, the redhead suddenly stopped talking, her eye going wide as the vivid blue iris faded to white. Her knees buckled, and as she slumped to the ground, Asuka simply stared ahead blankly, not moving or speaking at all.

“What in the goddamn... was that... was that Simple Beam? Is that... really capable of-” Ritsuko would be hit by a similar beam shortly after, and just like Asuka, she collapsed, the Simple Beam having completely blanked her mind.

“Impressive... isn’t it?” For the first time in the entire confrontation, Charon spoke; by this point, Rei was actively dreading having to hear his voice. “You know, Rei... I... imagine you try to avoid reading about my accomplishments... so I thought you’d be interesting in knowing I was the one who discovered Simple Beam could put humans in a mindless state. Very convenient way of eliminating... distractions.”

Charon appeared to be in better shape than during Rei’s visit, but not by much; when he crouched down to look Rei in the eyes, he visibly struggled, and his voice still sounded strained and weak. Nevertheless, his very presence was a haunting one, akin to a terrible nightmare that just wouldn’t go away. “Now, listen to me... Mr. Lorenz here was gracious enough to get me out of that personal hell in exchange for my scientific expertise. I am not about to let a little freak like you ruin this for me... so I suggest you take your mindless friends home and let us continue with our work.”

“Fuck you.” The moment Rei moved to tear her creator limb from limb, Lorenz’s Malamar fired off its third Simple Beam, causing her to unceremoniously faceplant on the ground, her mind empty.

It would come just in time, too; shortly after he returned the Dark-type to its ball, Lorenz noticed the legend they had come for had finally shown themself. Mew peered out from behind the shrine dedicated to them, curiously watching those two old men.

By the time Mew noticed Lorenz possessed a Master Ball, though, it was too late; they were sucked inside the moment it bounced against their head, and no amount of thrashing would be enough to break free before the capture was processed.

“Well... that concludes the first step.” Lorenz moved to retrieve the Master Ball as nonchalantly as if it were merely a Starly inside. “Now that Mew is in our possession, we can proceed with the creation of the vessel... which, considering their basis happened to come to us...”

“Hey... you said it yourself.” Still lingering over the simplified Rei, Charon produced a scalpel. “She’s a foolish little brat.” Carefully brushing back his creation’s steel-blue hair, he made an incision in the side of her neck, from which slightly orange-tinted blood began to leak. He allowed it to drip into an empty vial he’d brought, sealing it shut and stowing it away in his lab coat once he had enough.

Charon stood, beginning to walk back towards the ruined door. “I think we’ve spent enough time here... let’s get going. There’s work to be done.”

“Of course.” With that, Lorenz followed his accomplice out of the temple, the Master Ball containing Mew gripped tightly in his palm.

Their three would-be saboteurs were left lying in the empty shrine room. The wound on Rei’s neck continued to drip orange-red blood, forming a small puddle on the ground beside her.

[mintyjin]

mermaid au: jooheon

I’ve heard your cries for part two of mermaid! au changkyun and shownu (seriously, guys, you’ve flooded my ask box lmao), but listen, this concept is vibing with me tonight. enjoy!

once, a long time ago, there was a war between two cities

no one knows for sure why it started, but everyone agrees on one thing: it had something to do with magic

one city specialized in magic capable of moving and creating fire and earth, the other in taming the wind and water

you can kinda see where the conflict arose

years passed, bringing bloodshed and loss to everyone involved

to this day, it is the ugliest war to take place on the grounds and in the waters of your kingdom

and with all ugly wars come stories

this war is no exception, but the stories have a bit more of a peculiar tone

you see, it’s rumored that, to protect their magic and their lives, citizens of the wind and water city did something strange

they dove into the ocean and their legs morphed into tails, their necks creating small gills

and there, in the ocean, is where they dwelled as the earth and fire lineage took the throne, afraid of persecution, of further genocide

and there, it’s said, they remain

no one can definitively prove they exist, but every now and then, there are sightings of these mythical, magical people

and everywhere you go, there are murmurs saying one day, perhaps someday soon, they will grow weary of the ocean and walk back onto land

and on that day, the age-old war will continue

you see, the current monarch is a wielder of fire and earth

and he hasn’t forgotten the stories of his grandfathers

how do you know this so certainly?

well, you’re his only child, the first in line to the throne

while the story entertains you, you’re not so sure it’s entirely accurate

would generation after generation really subject themselves to a life of constant concealment?

magic, too, has its limitations. you know of gill spells and swimming potions, but could there really be a magic powerful enough to allow an large group of people to survive for so long underwater?

that said, you can’t just shrug off the legends completely. the war, after all, did happen

one day, during a particularly heinous arithmetic lesson, you gaze in boredom out of your window, which overlooks the sea

the sight of the rolling sea, ornamented with birds diving in and out of the water, gives you an idea

you should escape this lesson for a little while and go let the water run over your toes

the castle gets so stuffy, and not just because nearly everyone within it is a fire wielder

you excuse yourself to the bathroom, quickly ducking into the hallway of servants’ quarters and slipping through the door at the end

you leave your shoes at the door and dash over to the sand, relishing the way it shifts beneath your feet

and then you sprint as fast as your legs allow so that no one sees you leaving

and when the castle is out of sight, your lungs are burning and your feet feel heavy but you’re so exhilarated at the feeling of freedom that you throw off your unnecessary layers of clothing and hurl yourself into the ocean

with strong strokes, you pull yourself to the calmness of the deeper waters

you turn so that you’re floating on your back, feeling the cool, gentle lull of the waves beneath you, closing your eyes against the sun 

and it’s so warm and peaceful that you just lay like that for a while, feeling your stresses melt away

when you grow bored of that, you watch the sun send specks of light dancing along the waves and you decide to try to mimic that light with your magic

you conjure up some small sparks in your palm and lightly blow, casting them onto the sea

they spark and pop like tiny fireworks, the ashes crumbling in the water

not exactly what you wanted 

but then you hear a splash behind you, followed by a voice 

“Woah... that was actually very pretty.” 

you whip around, hand raised, ready to fend for yourself if need be 

but the sight that greets you forces you to falter 

there, in front of you, is a boy. a very handsome boy, to be exact. with small, dark scales on the sides of his eyes and neck 

and unless your eyes are tricking you, you can see the beginnings of a silvery tail beneath the water 

mermaid... he’s a mermaid

you shake off your surprise, still poised and on guard. “Who are you?” you ask

“Jooheon. You don’t have to be so tense, I won’t hurt you.” 

you still hold your stance, aware that his people don’t have a great relationship with yours

he just sighs and narrows his eyes and says, “Just because our ancestors fought means we have to? And here I thought this could be a fun conversation.” 

and you finally put your hand down but you’re still unsure 

this could be a trick. he could be waiting for you to relax. 

“What do you want?” you ask

he shrugs. “Not sure. I’ve never spoken to a human before.”

and you're like... huh

“I’ve never spoken to a... mermaid... before.” 

and to your surprise, he laughs, throwing his head back a bit, his smile magnificent 

“Then this should be interesting. Have you ever seen water wielding before?” 

you shake your head, no, and he smirks 

he dips one hand into the ocean and cups some water in his palm, blowing a bit of air into it not unlike how you did

and then the water seemingly comes to life, taking the shape of a dragonfly and flying to you, landing on your shoulder 

and it’s beautiful magic, you can’t deny it 

you also can’t fight back the astonished smile that spreads across your face

what you don’t know is that jooheon is like, wow.... she's cute...

“This is amazing!” you exclaim, your previous hesitation forgotten 

and jooheon’s like, “Naturally.” 

you roll your eyes but seriously, you’re impressed 

“Ok, Jooheon,” you say, noticing how he starts when you say his name, “but can you do this?” 

you hold your hand palm up, concentrating 

and then a flame bursts from your hand and you focus harder, controlling its movements so that it forms a small orb of fire floating a few inches above your palm 

and jooheon is already transfixed because he’s never seen fire this close before, but then you snap your fingers and he watches in amazement as it blows away in some invisible wind 

and naturally, he has to one-up that, so he shows you another trick of his

which leads to a whole thing where you’re each showing off your magic to the other 

you end up laughing a lot, half at this boy’s antics and half in amazement as he conjures things you never could’ve imagined possible 

but then you notice he’s giving you a funny look and you ask why and he goes, “You never told me your name.” 

“Oh, it’s Y/N.” 

“Ok, Y/N, do you trust me?” 

“Depends. Why?” 

he points behind you, towards the direction of the palace. “I think someone is looking for you.” 

you turn and he’s right- even from a distance you recognize the silhouette of your teacher and groan 

“I know a place you can hide out,” jooheon says, “but you have to trust me.” 

and you’re a little hesitant again but you nod and he pulls you underwater with him

your eyes fling open, bearing the sting of saltwater so that you can see what jooheon is doing 

he makes a fist with one hand and then brings it to your mouth, motioning for you to open

when you do, he pushes what feels like a small bubble into your mouth and, to your surprise, you can feel yourself breathing 

breathing..... underwater

you even notice the sting in your eyes disappearing 

you’re sure your surprise is written all over your face because jooheon laughs, but when you go to open your mouth, he clasps a hand over your lips and shakes his head

you take the hint- don’t open your mouth

from here you can see the entirety of his tail, which is gorgeous

 it’s silver, like you thought, but with dark translucent fins 

he gently grabs your wrist and pulls you towards him, wrapping an arm around your waist so that you’re pulled right up against him

and it’s not like you mind,,, he’s very warm,,, and uhhhh also very attractive 

then he places his mouth above your ear and whispers, “Don’t panic, ok?” 

and starts swimming, still holding you

and you’re just looking around in amazement because on one hand, there’s jooheon, who is very fun to look at, but then there’s also schools of fish you’ve never seen up close before swimming by 

and you’ve never seen the sun through water like this 

it’s all so beautiful and fascinating and you can’t believe you’ve gone your whole life without seeing it

but before long, jooheon swims to the surface and you emerge from the water to find that you’re in a small sort of enclosure 

like a small cave

“Where is this?” you ask

“Right behind the castle,” he says

you can’t conceal your surprise, saying, “What? I never knew-” before catching yourself

jooheon has been friendly enough, but that might change if he finds out you’re a member of the royal family 

the family that caused his people to jump into the water in the first place 

thankfully, he doesn’t seem to have any suspicions 

“So, what’s human life like?” 

“Kind of boring, to be honest,” you say, launching into descriptions of your teacher and various classes 

and you think it’s horribly monotonous but he’s hanging on to your every word and asking questions left and right 

he’ll interrupt a story to ask what a bathtub is

and you're like oh yeah I guess you wouldn’t really have a use for one would you

he tells you stories of his life, too

of exploring sunken shipwrecks and huge, expansive corals with his friends 

and it’s all so alien and interesting that you figure you could listen all day

but before long, it gets dark and a bit cold, so you think you should go

he notices your glances and is like, “Ah, they’re probably looking for you back at the palace, aren’t they?” 

you flinch. “How did you know I live at the palace?” 

“I get that our societies are a little separated, but my people know of your family.” 

“Oh.” 

and he senses that you’re uncomfortable so he takes your hand in his, a blush dusting his cheeks 

“I think you’re a good person. Regardless of what our families did to each other, you’re good,” he says

and you squeeze his hand, not meeting his gaze

“Y/N,” he says, oddly serious, “I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.” 

and you’re like.... yeah, me neither 

and you agree to meet him in that small cave behind the palace wednesday night

you pull yourself out of the water, jooheon’s hand steadying you to keep you from falling

and once you’re on dry land, you bend down to kiss his cheek, smiling to yourself as it turns bright red 

“Goodbye, Jooheon.” 

“Nononono don’t say it like that it sounds so depressing and as if I’ll never ever see you ever again-”

you just laugh and wave goodbye 

as you leave, you turn around and jooheon is just staring at you, watching you leave with his chin resting on his hand

he gives you a smile and waves goodbye with the ferociousness of a little kid 

and you’re like.... if the rest of the kingdom could see this, peace would stand a fighting chance 

but for now, you’re just excited to see jooheon wednesday night