#obey me zuri

[sketch-guardian]

These drawings were supposed to be ready on Valentine's Day,but...as always I'm slow as hell🙈anyway-

Here are my RAD classmates with MC✨about to get charmed by our favourite lovely sheep (and that includes all of you🐑💖). This is also a sort of sneak peek of what their whole demon forms are supposed to look like and I hope they don't suck too much😖in any case,here:

Zuri x MC

Demya x MC

Azul x MC

Domnra x MC

Odon x MC

(btw if anyone is interested, feel free to ask about them, I don't mind)

[crazyyanderefangirlfan]

Random oc ask time

What are your ocs favorite thing to drink

Oof, this is going to be long

Valerie - Strawberry milkshakes and matcha tea

Amane - Raspberry and dark chocolate frappes

Lorelei - Any sweet frappe and boba tea

Elly - Boba tea, milkshakes, hot chocolate and tea made by Issy or Barbatos

Issy - Tea, and iced coffee

Gabi - Root beer, energy drinks, and soda

Dani - Boba tea, juice and frappes.

Astrid - Strong coffee, Devildom alcohol and tea made by Barbatos

Fabian - Smoothies and hot chocolate.

Malachite - Black tea, and frappes

Cece - Boba tea, energy drinks and concoctions she made.

Vince - Strong coffee and Cece’s energy drink concoctions

Nadia - Alcohol, boba tea and frappes.

Joe - Coffee, juice and Cece’s energy drink concoctions.

Zuri - Tea, juice and hot chocolate

Jack - Hot chocolate, tea and soda floats.

[oc-cafe]

No one killed the King.

It’s been three days, seven hours, nine minutes and exactly sixty nine seconds since Vea Amaris broke into our ballroom, collapsed on the floor and cried. In the past three days, seven hours, nine minutes, and exactly sixty nine, well seventy seconds since then, a lot has happened. My mother has decided to acknowledge herself as the queen until I breach eighteen. After that, I will be the ruler, and she an advisor.

Vea Amaris is now well enough to sit up straight, well partially. Their ministers  have already received a letter, explaining where their acting ruler is, as their father’s whereabouts are unknown.  Eren left early yesterday morning, determined to find King Amom. 

There’s so  much to do. Father’s funeral has already been held. We had no body to bury so we buried his falchion, even though he never used it. He stuck to his daggers until the very end, but they were lost at sea along with his beloved bow and arrow, if only we had them. 

Grief weighs down every move in the castle, Zuri can no longer be seen sketching the horizon or taking one of her long walks on the beach, she’s shut herself in her wing and has allowed no one to see her. She’s even stopped taking her meals with mother and I! 

I wish I could fault her, blame her, but it would be hypocritical of me. If I could, I would  hide away in my room as well, but I have duties. I am expected to rule while my mother recovers from the shock, she is still queen but I am still the heir. I still have to lead my people, I still have to look after Vea, soothe our agitated allies before they turn on us, defend my kingdom and most importantly, find my father’s killer.

There aren’t any leads to follow, I haven’t been allowed near Vea, therefore I cannot question them about his death. There’s no ship to inspect, no bodies, no witnesses, nothing. Nothing. NOTHING. 

Nothing’s such a horrible word, there’s no point to it. It’s the only lie we accept. Every question in the world could be answered with those seven letters, but it’s never nothing, is it? There’s always something, or someone. 

This is basically a long winded way of saying, I’m sneaking into Vea’s hospital room to ask them questions about my father’s brutal murder. Yay! This will definitely not backfire, Amaris is… reasonable, for the lack of a better word. 

My shoes are off, and all that could give away my identity is hidden away in my room, where I’ve arranged a few cushions to pretend that I’m asleep in my room. The borrowed (read: stolen) servant’s gown is slightly uncomfortable but nondescript enough that no one will pay attention to me. 

Now. I have a royal to harass. 

-X-

I quietly make my way around the clinic, careful to stay on my guard, while Ababyomi may be out for now, she’s sure to return soon, and she knows every single nurse that works for her. The second she’s back, I’m screwed.  The other nurses mill about restlessly, currently the only patient in the castle is Vea. That makes my work a lot harder. I manage to disappear behind the curtain that separates my mark from me and my questions. Vea looks less pitiful today, the swelling around their eyes has gone down, making them look less racoonish. The blood that clung to their armour and skin that night, has been painstakingly cleaned, the only trace of their injuries are the stitches that line most of their body. 

They cock their head to the side, and sit up. Their smile is tired and their hands barely obey them when they lift it in a silent gesture. “You’re welcome here.” It’s small and silent, a mutual understanding. We’ve both lost our fathers and for tonight, there is to be no mention of the war, only a grim compromise. 

 I’ll tell you what you want to know, and you’ll tell me what I want to know. No ifs, no buts. 

“Good evening, Vea.” I drag a chair next to their bed, allowing my body to finally rest. For the past three days, I’ve done nothing but run around, and deal with agitated allies. A few moments of rest and relaxation was much needed.  “Daraja. I am truly sorry about your father, I wish I could have done more , helped him, somehow.” 

“You still can, help me find who killed him, Vea. Please.” I want to scream and cry but diplomacy helped us before, perhaps it can again. 

“I’ll  help however I can…. For a  price.” 

“A price?” “Nothing is ever free Princess.” They smile at me softly, their gaze carries no heat, a simple aura of cool intellect hidden by a weak exterior. 

“I’m aware, name your price.” “A walk around the palace?” Well. That was…surprising. 

“Uh. Sure.”  What could possibly go wrong?

  -X-

After a nerve wracking  escape from the clinic, we wander around in the gardens, there is not a single soul in sight. Only Vea and I. 

For a few moments neither of us speak, the only sound passing between us is that of their cane sounding against the cobblestones. 

“So.”  A brave attempt at breaking the tension, a failed one but brave nonetheless. 

“Right.” “I don’t know how to start.” A beat. 

“I’ll tell you exactly what happened and then you can decide what you want to do with me.”  Vea offers, their gaze turned away from me.  They don’t wait for an answer.

“We set sail almost immediately after the treaty was signed. He didn’t want to wait until dinner, he didn’t want to wait a second longer. All he could talk about were his girls, he talked about Zuri and The queen but mostly, he talked about you and how proud he was of you. He really loved you Daraja.” The weather is exceptionally warm, even my eyes are perspiring.  

“  I wish both of us could have made it home Daraja, I really do, but when those monsters took me…” 

“Monsters? Took you? Wha-” WHAT MONSTERS? LITERAL? FIGURATIVE? ELABORATE. 

“They didn’t tell you, did they?” Of couuuurse they did, I’m just pretending not to know. Read the garden Amaris. 

“I’m sorry, um I forgot that Aiga wasn’t aware of  the skelons.”  Skelons? What? 

“Skelons?”

“It’s a long story…” “I’ve got time.” 

A/N: Has this been beta read? Absolutely not no. Has this been posted after a billion years? Absolutely yes. 

I apologise for the incredibly long hiatus, I really didn't mean to do that. I’m really hoping y’all haven’t lost interest yet.

Mod Tag: @tiredguyswag@ne0npurplefantasies

Taglist (send an ask to be added or removed): @ghostdragoncookie @jewishdainix @ialmostdonothingnew @just-call-me-a-god @death-and-the-lady13 @fierreth-who @mister-finally-found-himself @coffeelovinggayidiot @pinkyy-promises @sassychaostrash @lesbiansayaishii @a-cloud-for-dreams @brkh96 @i-likestuff86 @redvelvetpdf @xx0yeet-everything0xx

[aiallardyce]

writing down the emojis i assigned for ocs because i know im gonna forget this sooner or later

twst

nrc

☣️ yume, 🐦‍⬛ sarai, 🐸 aikaterini, 🐰 u, ✨ shayde, 🎼 melody, 🎨 senalat, 🏹 roy, 🪖 atajan, 💍 galina, 🧜‍♂️ yudai, 🎀 mary-annie

🥕 arledge, 🦎 drake, 🫧 ilsolvic

🌬️ beowulf, 🐻 macbeth, 🎰 caleb, 🪶 talon, 🐆 sadia

🦈 gavin, 🐟 blake, 🏟️ claudius, 🪙 marcus, 🐋 malacoda

📜 bassel, ⏳ heera, 💎 faqeed

🪦 noir, 🕊️ sommeil, 💣 duyao, 🎤 jermaine

👾 pavor, 🎮 nikolaos, 💿 evander

🛡️ severus, 🔍 franc, 🌋 vulcan

🩹 sargon, 🕰️ nova, ☀️ persinette, 🌱 warren

🥩 jewell

rsa

👑 eden, 👗 gia

🎩 lewis, 🎪 harlan, 🐛 charles, ☂️ bunky, 💭 ellis

🌅 ambrosi, 🌺 fleuri, 🐾 faunus, 🌦️ mist

🕌 jibril, 🐅 kahlil

❄️ alvar, 👓 denarius, 🧩 roux, 💌 cobalt, 🎸 jett, 🛏️ beryl, 🏐 kessler, 🌡️ larimar

🏺 hector, 🎠 perseus, 💐 miles, 📣 chryses, 🏛️ castor, 🌾 thales, 🪩 theodore, 🎭 melanthios

🍯 winston, 🐷 pietro, 🫏 tristan, 🍝 tigre, 🦉 otus

🩵 duke, 🦘 koen, 🦞 veredigna, 📚 faron, 🪭 jia-hao, 🤖 mon, 🎃 ivan

🛼 soraya

awi

🌌 galadriel, 🔷 konyd, 👁️‍🗨️ thackery

♟️ juno, 🃏 henrietta, 🥀 rosalyn, 🦩 carmine, 🦔 emerald

⚒️ imara, 🪮 zuri, 🥇 keletso

🐚 iris, 🧠 jessamine, 🧬 forsythia

🐍 ritika, 🦜 alya, 🗺️ leila

👠 ellie, 🪞 serenity, 🦚 meili

🚬 helena, 🐺 andrea

🐐 maria, 🪽deirdre, ☸️ sydney, 🏰 daenerys

🗻 headmistress, ⚰️ collector, 💄 vanita, 😈 miriam, 🥼 yvonna, 🦅 shanyuan, 🕸️ bonnie, 🛍️ glynda, 🖌️ jayda, 🌿 gautami, ⏲️ kitch

❌ binx, 🏩 lily, ✂️ kutaka, 🦊 yuzuki, 🎣 arsulu, 🪸 lagan, 💸 jin, 🌩️ thundra, 💠 kraljica, 🔦 moroni, 🩸 circe, 👼 angelos, ⚜️ chanteur, 🪆 leah

extra

🍬 maximilian, 🩰 margaretta

🕋 masood, 🧞‍♂️ yusra, 🐈 tahmina, 🥛 toussaint, 🎧 serenella, 🎹 bene, 👕 joey, 🦁 rouge

💫 yuehai, 🐉 long/haoran, 🐴 ma/zhang

🦋 aponi, 🌄 odina, 🍁 nuka

🌳 virgo, 🌊 pisces

⏱️ mi-gyeong

aknk

mcs

💝 nimue, 🪻 yareli, 👔 kimiya, 🐛 jace, 🐱 camilla, 🍓 lenore

butlers

📙 andre, 🏮hadwin

obey me

mcs

🍎 eve/adam, ⛵️ noa/noah, 🌟 ruth/matthew, 🐝 deborah/barak, 🔏 susanna/daniel, 💻 abigail/david, 🏍️ judith/achior, 👸 esther/mordecai, 📂 miriam/aaron, 🦾 lydia/silas, 🐏 priscilla/aquila, 🔮 martha/lazarus, 🤺 berenice/herod, ✝️ tabitha/peter, 👛 zillah/lamech

other

💧 crocell, 🔪 legion, 🎆 ereshkigal, 🏵️ ishtar/inanna

hypmic

🦢 asuka, 🪴 fumio

🌸 koyumi, 🎎 honoka, 🌻 moriko

fragmem

🍦vianali, 🍫 caomint

kira kira

🕷️ kuro, 🌙 souvanna, ❤️‍🔥katawaguruma

[yukisflowergarden]

Obey Me Children Bios

✨All the brothers✨

⚠️This is just my version of the brothers and their children. They aren’t actually cannon and aren’t relevant to the actual story of obey me⚠️

P.s,(In Asmodeus part, if your against things like boys wearing dresses and skirts, no offence but please leave my blog. Or if you won’t, than skip Asmo, please and thank you. 🤗

~~~~~

Satan

One Daughter

Name: Tilly

Nickname/s: kitten/Kitty

Birthday: April 4th (Aries♈️)

Mama or daddy’s girl?: she’s fair with both of her parents, but she leans more to her dads side

Closest Uncle: Beelzebub. If she starts having a fit and gets angry he would be the first uncle to pull her away and try to calm her down.

Least closest Uncle: Lucifer. She doesn’t hate him or anything, she is just really anxious when it comes to talking to him.

Appearance: Tilly looks alot like Satan, same hair, similar dressing style. She has multicoloured eyes, one green and yellow gradient eye, and one lavender and yellow gradient eye. She wears simple, see through reading glasses. She also wears two, silver earrings with green gems in it. She also has a similar style as Satan. She would normally wear a sweater and either a skirt or jeans. If she wears a skirt, she would usually wear thigh highs. She also normally wears her hair up in messy buns.

Personality: Sweet, charismatic, and knowledgeable. She’s a lot like her father, an introvert, although unlike her father, she doesn’t have infinite connections to people. Tilly is the type of person to be happy and content to be by herself, reading a book at home. When she used to be really small, it would be a regular occurrence to have fits and tantrums. However as she grew older, she became more composed and mature, so having fits became a rare occurrence, just don’t piss her off.

<><><>

Asmodeus

One Son, One Daughter

The Son;

Name: Mio

Nickname/s: MiMi,baby(by Mc)

Birthday: October 30th (Scorpio♍️)

Mamma or daddy’s boy?:Neither, he like the two equally

Closest Uncle: Satan. Mio just finds him really relaxing that’s all, stress leads to wrinkles ✋🏼🥺

Least closest Uncle: Mammon, Mio just doesn’t vibe with him

Appearance: Mio doesn’t necessarily have a specific style when it’s comes to his wardrobe. However, it’s usually something more on the comforter like maybe a hoodie? Baggy clothing? Occasionally, he likes to wear skirts and stockings, however the poor baby gets really anxious about wearing stuff like that in public.🥺 his hair style is a lot alike Asmo’s however the bangs are drifted to the other side of his face. His hair colour however is that of MC.( Based on my MC, his hair is black).

Personality: A lot like his father, he’s really happy and cheerful. Asmo made a comment one day,” well with your genes and mine combined, both of them are obviously going to grow up and become the cutest, and prettiest people in all three realms!” To be honest, it was true, Both Mio and Zuri are the cuties little children in the worlds. You ever feeling sad? This little baby is the best to cuddle with, he always has a nice scent to him, and he also has a warm touch to him too.

The Daughter:

Name: Zuri

Nickname/s: Zee, Princess (by Asmo)

Birthday: December 13th (Sagittarius♐️)

Mama or daddy’s girl?: Mamas girl

Closest uncle: Leviathan, she likes to wear the outfits he sews for her, and she also likes cosplaying time to time.

Least closest uncle: Belphegor, I mean the guy killed her mama, so they don’t get along well.

Appearance: Did someone mention…pastel colours? All this baby girl wears are pastel coloured clothing. She’s really cutesy and is really charismatic. She has Asmo’s demon form, her mama’s eyes, and her fathers hair.(Based on my MC, she has lavender coloured eyes). Everyday of the week, she has a specific hairstyle for that day. She has a variety of necklaces, and only a couple of plain, gold rings.

Personality: Super cute and cheery. She’s really optimistic, always positive no matter what people say about her, but mention her family…your gone. Cute but deadly so try not to get on her bad side. She is the type of person to have dirt on every single person, and loves gossip. She also has a love for nature, so long as she doesn’t get dirty from it. She is also a talented drawer too, drawing outfit designs and asking her uncle Levi if it was possible her could make it.

[tasminsstuff]

Get to know me

Hello! Imma introduce myself... I'm Minty (I won't tell my RL name because...private Ahahaha...but my friends in Facebook called me Minty) I've been playing Hogwarts Mystery since September (and Because of modules I can't finish the plot that's why I'm in third year in that game) I'm 16 (too young to have this I think?) A beginner in digital arts and I played an otome game entitled Obey me (try this peeps the story is good and you can even simp one of the characters there or all of them ;>) I'm a Filipino (I know some peeps from another country noticed Filipinos as mean in this year because of their attitude and stuff...I kinda regret my nationality but I'm just gonna accept it because that's what I am... I'm respecting everyone I know and meet so yeah) I'm a sensitive person and easily get jealous over some little things...I love music and memes Ahahaha!

And that's all :))

About my Hogwarts Mystery MCs (According to my AU)

MC #1 Tasmin O'Sullivan

A girl who sorted in Hufflepuff. Tasmin is a fun gal yet insecure, she's caring and polite. A petite girl who suffers from myopia during her childhood (that's why she's wearing glasses and the reason is...she spends more time indoors than outdoors) Tasmin can be pretty rude when you mess with her and her friends and even sacrifices everything for them. She's very close to Jacob since her childhood, and on the time of her brother's disappearance she keep researching about the curse vaults and focus to find her brother before she went to Hogwarts.

MC #2 Zuri Nakamura

A girl who sorted in Gryffindor. Zuri is a mischievous gal (like Tulip and Tonks hehehe) She's focused on not minding her brother's reputation in Hogwarts but she wanted to find her brother Jacob and see him after so many years. Zuri loves pranks, Jacob and her always pranking each other since childhood.

Bonus (?):

Tasmin is pure blood while Zuri is half-blood

/I don't think my captions are related to the picture :</

[devildom-delights]

Hello!

This is a multimuse blog for Obey Me! Shall We date

Muses for now are:

Asmodeus, Avatar of Lust

Satan, Avatar of Wrath

Diavolo, Prince of the Devildom

Luke, Angel (he's 10!!! Keep that in mind!)

Solomon (King Solomon the Wise)

Zurie (Demon OC)

Independent, semi-selective, OC, cross over and multiverse friendly!

Side blog to @foxy-lisard

[beeblackburn]

Pretender Reads A Little Hatred, Part I, Chapter Four

For those keeping score, I’m clipping through a chapter-a-day! Goes without saying spoilers ahead for the entirety of The First Law works beyond the keep reading. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Title: Keeping Score Point-of-View: Savine dan Glokta

Glokta once thought this of Valint and Balk:

So this is what true wealth looks like. This is how true power appears. The austere temple of the golden goddess. He watched the clerks working at their neat stacks of documents, at their neat desks arranged in neat rows. There the acolytes, inducted into the lowest mysteries of the church. His eyes flickered to those waiting. Merchants and moneylenders, shopkeepers and shysters, traders and tricksters in long queues, or waiting nervously on hard chairs around the hard walls. Fine clothes, perhaps, but anxious manners. The fearful congregation, ready to cower should the deity of commerce show her vengeful streak. 

—Last Argument of Kings, Too Many Masters

I don’t think he ever anticipated said golden goddess to be walking in the flesh.

But she is no goddess, no. Not of the benevolent kind.

She is the Devil, kin to the devil-blood themselves.

Sparks showered into the night, the heat a constant pressure on Savine’s smiling face. Beyond the yawning doorway, straining bodies and straining machinery were rendered devilish by the glow of molten metal. Hammers clattered, chains rattled, steam hissed, labourers cursed. The music of money being made.

She is Kanedias, overseeing the workers, hot at the forges, seething with production and things that worked, just like him.

One-sixth of the Hill Street Foundry, after all, belonged to her.

Caring naught for humanity, this is another workshop set in Hell, full of Shanka, workers made to do the Master Maker’s bidding.

One of the six great sheds was her property. Two of the twelve looming chimneys. One in every six of the new machines spinning inside, of the coals in the great heaps shovelled in the yard, of the hundreds of twinkling panes of glass that faced the street. Not to mention one-sixth part of the ever-increasing profits. A flood of silver to put His Majesty’s mint to shame.

But, unlike Kanedias, this devil-blood cares more for money than weapons, the work leveraged to profit instead of done for the work itself. And, as the times go, smaller, meaner people walk beyond the shadows of greater people. 

And whose shadow better than the first to commit to the power of coin?

“It was money that bought victory in King Guslav’s half-baked Gurkish war,” said Bayaz. “It was money that united the Open Council behind their bastard king. It was money that brought Duke Orso rushing to the defence of his daughter and tipped the balance in our favour. All my money.”

—Last Argument of Kings, Answers

This devil-blood walks in the shadows of the First of the Magi himself, only further committed to the High Art of making money.

And, on a voice standpoint, just read how much Savine’s POV is precise in the details of her workshop, how much numbers and calculations factors into it. How many longer, lingering sentences and more complex vocabulary there is, compared to Rikke or Leo’s chapters. This is a thinking woman, full of ambition and comfortable in the Other Side.

But, what is a Kanedias without his Jaremias? Or, better yet...

“Best not to loiter, my lady,” murmured Zuri, fires gleaming in her eyes as she glanced about the darkened street.

A Bayaz without his Yoru Sulfur?

She was right, as always. Most young ladies of Savine’s acquaintance would have come over faint at the suggestion of visiting this part of Adua without a company of soldiers in attendance. But those who wish to occupy the heights of society must be willing to dredge the depths from time to time, when they see opportunities glitter in the filth.

“On we go,” said Savine, boot heels squelching as she followed their link-boy’s bobbing light into the maze of buildings. Narrow houses with whole families wedged into every room leaned together, a spider’s web of flapping washing strung between, laden carts rumbling beneath and showering filth to the rooftops. Where whole blocks had not been cleared to make way for the new mills and manufactories, the crooked lanes reeked of coal smoke and woodsmoke, blocked drains and no drains at all. It was a borough heaving with humanity. Seething with industry. And, most importantly, boiling over with money to be made.

Quite the ambitious woman, Savine is, and with the prerequisite lack of scruples that a child of Glokta would have. Yet, Glokta never had this sort of ambition to him, even before the Gurkhul Empire got to him. After, he was just trying to keep his head above water and do his best to win. If I had to put my finger on where Savine gets her ambitions from, first trilogy-wise? I’d say it’s West more than Glokta. Savine shares quite a few characteristics with Glokta, but it’s that need to rise that I feel she shares with her uncle Collem West.

And look at this dense microcosm of the peasantry! Full of squalor, wretched stenches, spaces full of cramped families, it’s a tapestry stitched full of misery, and all Savine sees is that very humanity being put to use for making money.

Savine was by no means the only one who saw it. It was payday, and impromptu merchants swarmed about the warehouses and forges, hoping to lighten the labourers’ purses as they spilled out after work, selling small pleasures and meagre necessities. Selling themselves, if they could only find a buyer.

There were others hoping to lighten purses by more direct means. Grubby little cutpurses weaving through the crowds. Footpads lurking in the darkness of the alleys. Thugs slouching on the corners, keen to collect on behalf of the district’s many moneylenders.

I once read about how the only differences between the great and small thieves is a matter of legality and scale. And it really shows here, how we’ll take advantage of the poor conditions that the working class must endure, only to fill our own pockets. It hardly matters whether we steal with a small pleasure given or a sharp knife at the back, it’s taking advantage of those without much to line our own bottom lines.

Risks, perhaps, and dangers, but Savine had always loved the thrill of a gamble, especially when the game was rigged in her favour. She had long ago learned that at least half of everything is presentation. Seem a victim, soon become one. Seem in charge, people fall over themselves to obey.

So she walked with a swagger, dressed in the dizzy height of fashion, lowering her eyes for no one. She walked painfully erect, although Zuri’s earlier heaving on the laces of her corset gave her little choice. She walked as if it was her street—and indeed she did own five decaying houses further down, packed to their rotten rafters with Gurkish refugees paying twice the going rent.

Then it’s not really a gamble, is it, Savine. That’s stacking the deck, reaping the rewards of it, and patting yourself on the back for being a daring risk-taker, you fool. If that’s the root of your arrogance, then, boy, is this world going to topple you sooner than later because it doesn’t treat the arrogant much better than the merciful. And, boy, is Savine not lacking in arrogance. She reminds me of a pre-bridge Glokta, in terms of how much she buys into her own hype.

An intriguing nugget, though, is her predisposition with presentation. That need to perform and look a certain part. It’s definitely something Glokta, back then, never felt like he had to. I get more shades of West here and his need to perform to a certain standard, but I also think the question of gender has to be considered with how Savine feels she has to perform. It’s an interesting wrinkle in how Savine zigs where Glokta zagged in terms of their respective youths.

Also, Gurkish refugees? (arches a brow) What the hell happened to the Gurkish Empire? Or, are these just people who got tired of the cannibalistic slavery? I can’t really blame them, but is the Union really that much better, guys? Hmmm. Either way, way to take advantage of marginalized people in a racist society, Savine. You’re a class act, m’am, truly.

Zuri was a great reassurance on one side, Savine’s beautifully wrought short steel a great reassurance on the other. Many young ladies had been affecting swords since Finree dan Brock caused a sensation by wearing one to court. Savine found that nothing lent one confidence like a length of sharpened metal close to hand.

Whoa, whoa. Finree wears a sword nowadays? ... Actually, given how Hal’s dead, I can definitely see this as a way to establish authority and put herself on the same level of respect as a man in the Union. And, given how much there’s institutional sexism in that society, I can’t really blame her. Though, given the round of PTSD she got last handling a blade... I’m sure she doesn’t want to actually kill anyone with it now. 

Honestly, though, good for Savine and those women of the Union. Better weigh your hopes of safety on a sword than the mercies of your men or enemies.

Savine gathered her skirts so she could squat beside him and look in his dirt-smeared face. She wondered if he sponged the muck on as artfully as her maids did her powder, to arouse just the right amount of sympathy. Clean children need no charity, after all.

Wow, Savine, has it ever occurred to you that the conditions you benefit off of aren’t as pristine as you make it out to be? Have you considered that maybe the world isn’t a projection of your own inclinations to performance? 

Just no empathy here, none at all.

She was not at all above sentimental displays of generosity. The whole point of squeezing one’s partners in private was so they could do the squeezing in public. Savine, meanwhile, could smile ever so sweetly, and toss coins to an urchin or two, and appear virtuous without the slightest damage to her bottom line. When it comes to virtue, after all, appearances are everything.

The boy stared at the silver as though it was some legendary beast he had heard of but never hoped to see. “For me?”

She knew that in her button and buckle manufactory in Holsthorm, smaller and probably dirtier children were paid a fraction as much for a long day’s hard labour. The manager insisted little fingers were best suited to little tasks, and cost only little wages, too. But Holsthorm was far away, and things in the distance seem very small. Even the sufferings of children.

“For you.” She did not go as far as ruffling his hair, of course. Who knew what might be living in it?

I’m very reminded of capitalists donating to particular charities while turning a blind eye to the very real exploitation and labor abuse they perpetuate and are supported by. They can afford to look virtuous and get ass-pats for giving what’s effectively their pocket change, but god forbid they do things like get taxed heavier or give enough to put a good dent in most cases of institutional poverty. It’s all about appearances, and so long as you close your mind to the golden pillars, stained with blood, your entire enterprise is supported on, you can justify any means for profit.

And what frightens me about this is... this isn’t some relic from the past. Child labor is still a thing world-wide! And plenty of capitalists rely on them, plenty of our industries rely on them, just to squeeze out extra money to gild their bottom line. And we turn a blind eye on them and ignore the moral horrors of them out of convenience, because to look those children in the eye would make us monsters. And Savine prefers not to feel like a monster, but is more than willing to keep up the hellish circumstances that churn out her money.

“None more blessed, my scripture-teacher once declared, than those who light the way for others.”

“Was that the one who fathered a child on one of his other pupils?”

“That’s him.” Zuri’s black brows thoughtfully rose. “So much for spiritual instruction.”

Zuri’s certainly got a character, being a more cynical follower of religion, huh. I wonder if she’s been disillusioned by her faith, just like Temple was. And why she went to the atheist arms of the Union. I also wonder if this isn’t a commentary on how our religious leaders end up falling short of the actual beliefs and commit to the obscene and awful while papering it over with their high position.

Zuri whipped out a cloth and wiped down a vacant section of the counter, then, as Savine sat, she slipped out the pin and whisked away her hat without disturbing a hair. She kept it close to her chest, which was prudent. Savine’s hat was probably worth more than this entire building, including the clientele. At a brief assay, they only reduced its value.

And who’s partly responsible for that discrepancy of worth, huh, Savine?

She planted one elbow on the stretch of counter Zuri had wiped so she could lean closer and draw out both syllables. “Savine.”

“That’s a lovely name.”

“Oh, if you enjoy the tip, you’ll go mad for the whole thing.”

“That so?” he purred at her. “How does it go?”

“Savine… dan…” And she leaned even closer to deliver the punchline. “Glokta.”

If a name had been a knife and she had cut his throat with hers, the blood could not have drained more quickly from his face. He gave a strangled cough, took a step back and nearly fell over one of his own barrels.

Well, well, well! Glokta’s gotten quite the name for himself, it seems! Can’t exactly be surprised, given he’s the effective ruler of the Union and the Arch Lector of the Inquisition, but it’s a far cry from the simple Inquisitor he started off as, way back at the first trilogy’s start. He’s riding high at the top and Savine gets to use his name to put the screws on random dumbfucks.

Quite theatrical with her words, Savine is! She knows when to let her opponent in, so she can skewer him. Her fencing is such that she knows how to leverage her father’s name to a fine emotional stab to the throat once her opponent dips in and she lunges for the kill. Say one thing about Savine dan Glokta, say she knows how to fence, just like her father.

“If I spent all my time shut up with Mother, we would kill each other,” said Savine. “And I feel that business should be conducted, whenever possible, in person. Otherwise one’s partners can convince themselves that one’s eyes are not on the details. My eyes are always on the details, Majir.”

Oh, dang. Is that exaggeration or do Savine and Ardee not have a good relationship? Also, dang, is Ardee still alone in her home? That’s... actually really sad, given how lonely she was at the first trilogy’s start. She deserves better. 

Also, Savine’s not wrong, but at the same time, I can’t read this as anything other than Savine not wanting her partners to fuck her over somewhere. Which, I can’t quite blame her for, but when she’s as rich as she’s implied to be...

My understanding runs thinner. Though, I suppose she wouldn’t have gotten the wealth she did by being a passive business partner that way.

“A promissory note from the banking house of Valint and Balk.”

“Really?” Valint and Balk had a dark reputation, even for a bank. Savine’s father had often warned her never to deal with them, because once you owe Valint and Balk, the debt is never done. But a promissory note was just money, and money can never be a bad thing. She tossed the pouch to Zuri, who peered inside and gave the smallest nod. “It’s coming to something when even the bandits are using the bank.”

Majir mildly raised one brow. “Honest women have the law to protect them. Bandits must take more care with their earnings.”

!!!!! WHOA, WHOA, WHOA. Is that a smart call, Majir? Glokta’s not wrong there!!! There’s half a trilogy detailing how awful that bank is! 

Savine, what are you doing. For such a ruthless and to-the-point woman, that’s pretty naive to assume money is money when your father himself warned you against it! Banks have ruined better people than you, and it’s indebted your father! How can you say something like that and think it smart?

(Bangs head against desk)

“True.” Majir watched her turn away, big fists pressed into the counter. “Do pass my regards to your father.”

Savine laughed. “Let’s not demean ourselves by pretending my father gives a dry fuck for your regards.” And she blew a kiss at the terrified barman on her way out.

This, along with her pinching Majir’s cheek earlier, makes me think Savine just gets off on punching down and patronizing people lower than her. Makes for a killer ending line, but it doesn’t suggest any good things about Savine as a person at all.

Dietam dan Kort, famed architect, was a man who gave every appearance of being in control. His desk, scattered with maps, surveys and draughtsman’s drawings, was certainly a wonder of engineering. Savine had moved among the most powerful men in the realm and still doubted she had ever seen a larger. It filled his office so completely, there was only the narrowest of passages around the edges to reach his chair. He must have needed help to squeeze himself through every morning. She wondered if she should recommend her corset-maker.

“Lady Savine,” he intoned. “What an honour.”

“Isn’t it, though?” She made him lean dangerously far across the desk in order to kiss her hand. Savine studied his, meanwhile, big and broad with fingers scarred from hard work. A self-made man. His greying hair was painstakingly scraped across a pate quite obviously bald. A proud and a vain man. She noticed a slight fraying of the cuffs on his once-splendid coat. A man in straitened circumstances, intent on appearing otherwise.

In short, a man Savine will take pleasure in wringing. And I must take note of the passages here, how much Savine’s POV attends to the details of her surroundings, of the appearance and small notes that others would miss. In a lot of ways, she’s the opposite of Leo, someone who takes pains to note the presentation of another because she’s very driven to it herself and thinks to leverage that knowledge to squeeze those who can be.

Also, I kind of wonder if noble titles can be bought in this world, given this assumption of Dietam dan Kort as a self-made man. Either that or Kort’s just a son from a smaller family who managed to get a good opportunity through this new age. Either way, given the way Savine’s accumulated her wealth, despite her noble title of Glokta, I imagine he’s similar to her, if only not as successful.

Zuri placed Majir’s pouch on the desk as delicately as if it had been deposited by a summer breeze. It looked very small on that immense expanse of green leather. But that was the magic of banks. They could render the priceless tiny, the immense worthless.

I’m reminded of Daniel Abraham’s The Dagger and the Coin and how the big twist was this dawn of paper money about to circulate throughout the world. And how it’s a sort of magic in its own right... but it’s always a blessing and curse, just like magic in the Circle of the World. 

“Of course!” He was unable to disguise a note of eager greed as he reached across the desk. “I believe we agreed a twentieth share—”

Savine placed one fingertip on the corner of the pouch. “You mentioned a twentieth. I remained silent.”

His hand froze. “Then…?”

“A fifth.”

There was a pause. While he decided how outraged he could afford to be, and Savine decided how little to appear to care.

Eager greed, huh? Me thinks, the raven call the crow black here. And there’s another note of projection in Savine’s POV, it’s a consistent note of Savine seeing intent where there might not be. She does it with the link-boy about how dirty he was, and now, she does it with Kort’s outrage. She just can’t seem to think that these reactions and people are genuine. Her head’s full of presentation and performance, and she just seems to internalize that there’s always a double-meaning to everything and everyone.

It’s honestly a really fascinating note about how unreliable Savine might be, how much her predilection with appearances bleeds into how much she reads into the world.

“When I confide, in strictest confidence, that you are short of investment, lacking the necessary permissions and troubled by restless workmen, it will be all over town before sunup.”

“Sure as printing it in a pamphlet,” said Zuri, sadly.

“Good luck finding an investor then, reasonable or otherwise.”

It had only taken a moment for Kort to go from bright red to deathly pale, and Savine burst out laughing. “Don’t be silly, I won’t do that!” She stopped laughing. “Because you are going to sign one-fifth of your enterprise over to me. Now. Then I can confide in Tilde that I just made the investment of a lifetime, and she won’t be able to resist investing herself. She’s not only loose-lipped, you see, but tight-fisted, too.”

Oh, very hard power here, Savine. Corporate blackmail and underhanded threats, I very well see. It must do your black heart a bundle of joy to punch down on fellow nobles. There’s barely any carrot here, mostly the stick.

“Greed is a quality the priests abhor.” Zuri sighed. “Especially the rich ones.”

“But so widespread these days,” lamented Savine. “If Lady Rucksted sees some gain in it, I daresay she can persuade her husband to make a breach in Casamir’s Wall so you can extend your canal into the Three Farms.” And Savine could sell the worthless slum buildings she had bought on the canal’s likely route back to herself at an immense profit. “The marshal’s notoriously stubborn for most of us but to his wife he’s a pussycat. You know how it is with old men and their young brides.”

In a lot of ways, this feels like a statement of the new generation, the new wave of greed that Sult disdained way back at the trilogy’s start is in full swing now. Now, Sult was a classist bigot who wanted the peasantry to knuckle down to nobility like old times, but at the same time, we see how much this attitude of greed has bled into the nobility themselves now, far beyond the realms of the merchants Sult once held in contempt. And Savine plays to get ahead of the others, already thinking reaches ahead of her competition here. Profit’s the name of the game, and she’s a natural hand at it...

“The first to do so.” Where it could service Savine’s three textile mills and the Hill Street Foundry, incidentally, and sharply raise their productivity. “I daresay—for a friend—I could even arrange a visit of His Majesty’s Inquisitors to a labour meeting. I imagine your troublesome workers will be far more pliable after a few stern examples are made.”

“Stern examples,” threw in Zuri, “are something the priests are always in favour of.”

... Though it doesn’t hurt to have father’s institutions as muscle to sweeten the pot, huh. Really, Savine, this is embarrassing if you think this is a fair game between you and Kort. You stacked the deck and have the dealer on your side and I imagine this wasn’t the first time you’ve leveraged the Inquisition in your business deals. (snorts)

Kort sagged, his chin settling into the roll of fat beneath it, his eyes fixed resentfully upon her. Clearly, he was not a man who liked to lose. But where would be the fun in beating men who did?

Savine really gets her kicks off punching down people lower than her. That’s like, an inherent part of her psychology, huh.

“A notary from the firm of Temple and Kahdia is already drawing up the papers. He will be in touch.” She turned towards the door.

Hey! Temple’s business! Sounds like he’s done well for himself since Red Country, I hope he’s doing well with Shy, Pit, and Ro! Though, dang, Temple, could your business not help out a woman like Savine?

“They warned me,” Kort grunted as he slid Valint and Balk’s note from the pouch. “That you care about nothing but money.”

“Why, what a pompous crowd they are. Beyond a point I passed long ago, I don’t even care about money.” Savine flicked the brim of her hat in farewell. “But how else is one to keep score?”

Oh, oh my. I know I’ve mentioned Kanedias, Bayaz, and West, but this part? This part? All Sand dan Glokta, down on a bone-deep level. This is the part of Glokta that just loved to lord his dominance over those who couldn’t punch back. The part that just loved to feel superior to everyone else, way back back at that bridge when he thrashed those fencers and wanted to wound West when his own blood was drawn. The part of him that can’t stand to lose, the need to win at all cost.

It’s all about the conquest with her and her father. There’s no higher-minded purpose behind it, it’s just the winning.

As a chapter, Keeping Score, is a microcosm of Savine’s character. There’s an arc in it, but not as strong as one as Where the Fight’s Hottest, nor is it quite as impactful as Blessings and Curses. But it has plenty of Abercrombie snark and some great starting fencing, though, with opponents that Savine can easily take down without much effort. But it sets up a great industrial age sweeping over Adua and how much that change’s going to affect the world going forward... and how Savine’s going to take that change by the tails. 

As a character... Savine’s 100% more interesting than Leo in a lot of ways, but at the same time, wow, is she just a spectacularly scummy person in most ways Leo just isn’t (aside from him being a oblivious musclehead). A capitalist who leverages her father in power plays and corporate blackmail, just to gain even more wealth that she doesn’t need out of a need to win. There are definitely interesting aspects to how Savine differs from her father and her historical DNAs, but in a lot of ways? She feels very reminiscent of pre-bridge Glokta in a way that makes me realize that man would’ve been downright insufferable as a POV. 

I can take Savine, because I definitely think she’s got a ton of potential and, you know, there’s no way Abercrombie would let her stay the same the entire book. Though, a curious thought is that Savine strikes me less a fantasy archetype than a modern archetype in a fantasy world. Hm. That’s an interesting thought, especially considering how much Temple was a modern character dropped in a fantasy western world.

PART I

Chapter One: Blessings and Curses Chapter Two: Where the Fight’s Hottest Chapter Three: Guilt Is a Luxury Chapter Four: Keeping Score Chapter Five:  A Little Public Hanging Chapter Six: The Breakers Chapter Seven: The Answer to Your Tears Chapter Eight: Young Heroes Chapter Nine: The Moment

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Late (22)

T’Challa X Reader

Chapter Warning: Plot, Supernatural/Paranormal Ideas, MAJOR BP deviation

 Word Count: 6.2K

 As always, thank you ALL for reading! I appreciate each and every one of you and your comments, likes, questions/asks, words of encouragement and even criticism in disguise as kindness. LOL.

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Y/N-

 You softly groaned as you tried to move. Every move you made your muscles ached, muscles you didn’t even realize you had. You groaned again and opened your mouth; even your jaw was tight. You clenched your jaw and groaned louder this time. The pain from your jaws radiated through the roots of your teeth up through the bones in your face. The pain prompted you to snap your eyes open only to be met by the blinding sun. You squinted your eyes automatically and lifted your hand to shield your eyes. The action rippled pain throughout your arm; your answer to the pain was the scream out and move the rest of your body. Big mistake. The pain coursing through you was worse than the soreness after a first workout.

  “Sshh, it’s all right.”

  T’Challa’s soothing voice barely helped to end your alarm; it did make you feel better though.

  “You are all right. Take deep breaths,” he advised. You listened and tried to slow your breathing. You tried to focus your mind on rising above the pain.

 “That’s it Y/N, very good,” T’Challa’s smooth voice added.

  After a few minutes, you felt you had a better grip of what was happening. You took one more deep breath and slowly opened your eyes. As if this was the first time you were using them, your vision was blurry. You blinked several times in an effort to see him better, but still, it remained blurry.

  “My eyes hurt.”

  “Yes, they will, as will every other part of you,” he informed.

  “Why? Why do they hurt? Why can’t I see you?”

  T’Challa didn’t speak for a few moments; you opened your eyes only to feel a burning sensation and closed them instantly.

  “You’ve overexerted yourself.”

  “I’ve exerted myself before, never have I ached like this. What aren’t you telling me T’Challa?”

  He took a deep breath, and you felt his hand engulf your own. The warmth of his hand radiated across your skin and traveled through your arm. Before long, your entire body felt the heat of him. You relaxed more on the bed and allowed the heat from him to sooth you. His touch always worked to calm you, but this was different, now it felt as if his touch did much more.

  “I know you have many questions Y/N; I know you want answers. I want them as well, and I promise you will have them--soon. For right now, I need you to not work against me; I need you to trust me. I know everything that I have done to you gives you reason never to trust me again; I know that, and I am ashamed of my actions. You have no reason to trust me, but I beg of you to,” T’Challa softly said.

  You recognized the despair in his voice, and the gentleness as well as the apprehensiveness in his touch. This was not the self-assured, authoritative king; this was a sorrowful man, one who felt shame. You wanted to look into his eyes to see if this was yet another ploy or if your suspicions were right. You also knew that if you looked in his eyes and saw that he was genuinely remorseful, you didn’t know if you could handle it.

  You took your hand back from his reach, and the absence of his warmth sent a fresh wave of pain through you. This pain wasn’t from your muscles or the pain of overexertion; this pain went deeper than the flesh. You refused to acknowledge or entertain the reason why. Instead, you focused on trying to recover from whatever the hell it was that was wrong with you.

  Within minutes you saw a lush green forest and heard the melodious sound of birds. You felt the earth underneath your feet and the breeze across your skin as you sped through the forest. You saw the foliage zip past, but you were able to zero in on the details. Small details such as a ladybug resting on a leaf, the dewdrops on a spider’s web, the pebbles of dung on the ground. You could even smell the sunlight and the water from the waterfall. You ran all through the forest and touched everything.

  Across the way, you saw a herd of elephants, and you wanted to go to them, but in the blink of an eye you ended up at the cliff. It all seemed familiar. You peered over it, and everything sped through your mind, jumping off the cliff, feeling the water against your skin, sitting next to T’Challa at the bank of the water, seeing his beautiful panther and another one, a more feminine one. You felt everything including the need to kiss him and let him finally claim that part of you that so desperately wanted him.

  You jumped up from the bed gasping for air. You looked around from side to side. You saw and recognized the familiar surroundings of one of the palace bedrooms. You heard footsteps scurrying to you, and it was then you saw T’Challa, Ramonda, Shuri, and Zuri rushing to your bedside.

  “Y/N,” Ramonda began.

 You could see the same black and purple electrical current coursing through T’Challa as he reached his hand out to you. You leaped back and scurried off the bed. You pressed your back to the window and looked around the room. You were beginning to feel like before wasn’t a dream, and what you just saw wasn’t a dream. You held out your hand and recognized the same current. You looked up and heard Ramonda and Shuri gasp in unison as they watched you.

  “What—the—fuck is going on?”

  “Y/N, I need you to calm yourself,” Zuri cautioned.

  “Calm myself? I can’t see you, all I see is red and orange flares. Why can’t I see you?”

“Y/N, it’s Shuri, listen to my voice. Focus on my voice all right. Everything is going to be all right. Listen to the sound of my voice and take deep breaths,” Shuri recited.

  You did your best to follow her instructions, and after a few moments your vision returned back to normal, and there they stood gaping at you.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “Sit down, all will become clear,” Zuri began.

  You looked around at all of them and listened. Instead of walking back to the bed you walked across the room to the sitting area and sat in one of the plush armchairs. You’d spent enough time lying down. The three of them followed you and sat in the remaining seats, except T’Challa. Instead, he leaned against the mantel of the fireplace. His eyes never left you.

  “What is going on? What is happening to me?”

  “When you were injured from your fight with Nakia, your injuries were very severe. It was a miracle T’Challa found you when he had. Unfortunately, by the time the medical team was able to work on you, you’d lost too much blood, and your injuries were too vast for them to fix,” Zuri explained. He then looked around to Ramonda, Shuri and T’Challa hesitating. You wondered why.

  As if sensing this, Ramonda leaned forward and took your hand. “Child, we didn’t have any other options, and we chose a risky one. We gave you the heart-shaped herb and placed you within the red earth in hopes that the ancestors would bestow their favor upon you and the herb would aid us where modern medicine failed us.”

  “We?” You asked searching her eyes; she looked down then nodded.

  “We all were surprised when the earth released you and had healed you. We praised Bast for the miracle.”

  “When you awoke you were not yourself. You’d developed super speed and strength, and an endurance to rival any cheetah,” Zuri finished.

  You looked at them all and finally to T’Challa, and it all became clear. You hadn’t dreamt the encounter in the forest; you hadn’t imagined the changes; it was all real. T’Challa’s expression was masked; he simply waited for you to speak.

  “It was all real. The chase, the struggle, the waterfall, it was all real,” you surmised.

  “It was,” Zuri confirmed.

 “We’ve been scouring every record, every scroll to understand just what happened and how.”

  You thought back to the ancestral plane, back to your conversation with T’Chaka, back to all you’d learned, and the test. Comprehension scraped at the edge of your consciousness, and you began to piece it together slowly.

  “I was tested. Bast allowed it, the earth accepted me, the ancestors approved, the earth released me and Bast--,” you paused and looked at each of them.

  “Bast blessed me.”

  No one spoke.

  “Somehow I passed the test.”

  You felt dizzy as if everything was spinning and you were going to pass out. While you knew everything that happened and that what you’d been through, in fact, happened somehow it still felt unreal, it still felt like a dream. You gripped your head and closed your eyes.

  “Are you all right?” T’Challa asked taking a step to you before he stopped.

  “I’d like to be left alone, please.”

  They obeyed and walked to the door without another word. Once alone you looked up and again saw the same vision as if you were looking through infrared goggles, you closed your eyes and tried to calm down.

  “Calm yourself now. First the body, but only you can calm from within. Calm yourself.”

 You gritted your teeth and focused on the words T’Chaka had spoken. You focused on your breathing, and slowly your pulse returned to normal and slowly you felt calmness. Once you opened your eyes you decided you needed to relax, the only way that happened for you was a bath.

  You walked to the bathroom, and your reflection caught your eye. You slowly walked to the mirror and looked over your face. You looked the same as always, but you saw something different, something within you was not the same. You leaned close to the glass and stared deeper into your own eyes. You examined yourself with deep intent and tried to put your finger on it, but you couldn’t. You saw a flash of violet within your eyes, and you lurched backward. You stared at yourself expecting some animal to rip from your skin, but nothing happened. You took a deep breath in and shook your head.

  “Get a grip Y/N.”

  You lifted off the nightgown and stepped into the shower. Once the water beamed down onto your skin, you turned the temperature hotter. No matter how hot the water got and how much steam filled the room it didn’t feel hot enough. When you turned the knob again, you realized there was no more room to turn because it was already the hottest it could get you just stared at the nozzle. You closed your eyes and stood underneath the steady stream of water and allowed yourself the time your muscles needed to melt like putty.

  After what felt like hours, you finally opened your eyes and felt substantially better. The ache in your muscles was gone, and the haze in your head had cleared. You felt as if you had a firmer grip on reality, or whatever the hell this was. You’d grasped that you’d almost died, and you were tested in the ancestral plane by the ancestors and Bast. You gathered that you’d passed and somehow could now run faster, smell better and see further. While it was alarming, you never felt fear, and you suspected it was because of your conversation with T’Chaka. Once you felt the water get cold, you turned it off and dried yourself. You felt more like yourself, and you were grateful for that.

 As you walked out of the bathroom, you saw a tray of food had been left on the table by the window. The setting sun caught your eye, and you stopped in front of the window to admire the beauty of Wakanda. You could hear everything, the animals in the forest and everyone in the palace, on top of that you could feel the powerful energy radiating off the floor and spreading through you. The energy merged with yours and increased yours. All of these new sensations were overwhelming; you closed your eyes and tried to tune them out. It took nearly ten minutes for any amount of relief; once you’d accomplished it, you felt weaker. You gripped the edge of the table and tried to forge on.

  You took the trey to the armchairs and sat down. You saw a stack of books on the floor next to one of the chairs and reached for the one on top. You skimmed the pages and noticed you could read faster than you’ve ever read before. It took you barely forty seconds to read one page and even more you understood and recollected everything you read. Your interest piqued and you couldn’t stop. So there you sat eating the delicious food sent from the kitchen and reading through all the books stacked on the floor.

  Everything you read was incredible; it all spoke of records dating back to the previous kings and all of their knowledge on things that had started Wakanda and their very way of life. The text even touched on concepts only Wakandans experienced, the connection between the land and Bast, and the root of their beliefs. Reading about it you too felt a connection to it all, one that had gotten stronger since your time on the ancestral plane.

 Once you’d made it to the sixth book, you’d finished dinner, and your hair had naturally dried leaving it in it’s curled and coiled state. You couldn’t stop reading. Once your eyes landed on the world “Soltihimi,” it was as if you knew what it meant, but you didn’t understand how you possibly could. The book never spoke of it directly; it was always just touched upon and always leaving more questions than answers.

 By the time you’d finished reading the stack of books and doing your own research on the computer that was housed in the room, the sun was peeking out from behind the mountains. You hadn’t slept a wink, but you barely felt tired, you felt energized, and you were more than ready to get the answers you deserved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-T’Challa-

 He sat at the breakfast table along with his mother and sister. None of them spoke, either they were each lost in their own thoughts or the food. T’Challa leaned back and sighed out.

  “Your pensiveness causes the entire palace to be uneasy T’Challa. Calm yourself,” his mother voiced.

  “Mother is right, brother. Did you even sleep?”

  T’Challa rubbed his forehead and tried to apply pressure to his temples in an effort to loosen the growing ball of stress he felt there. He hadn’t slept, but how could he?

  As if not needing the answer his mother shook her head, placed her utensils down and turned to him.

   “T’Challa--,”

  “How can I sleep, mother? This is my fault. Everything I do no matter what puts her in harm's way. I am the root of it all. Me,” he finally voiced.

  Those thoughts haunted him every night for months. Usually, he could quiet them just enough to claim a few hours rest but last night he could not, nor could he since Y/N’s accident.

  “Brother--,”

  “It is true, and you know it Shuri. First, I held her captive against her will, locking her away forcing her to remain in Wakanda for my own selfish purposes, then I give her the heart-shaped herb knowing that it could kill her and have adverse reactions. Now look, she is forever changed because of me. This is all my fault.”

  Shuri looked to their mother, but neither of them knew what to say. They’d never seen him like this. They were so used to seeing the assured brother and son they loved; they didn’t know what words to say to comfort him.

  “T’Challa you did what you did to save her life. If you had not intervened, she would have died,” Zuri piped up as he walked into the room.

  “Yes, what you did was a risk and could have gone another way, but we should thank Bast it did not. She is alive and well.”

  “Well, Zuri? She is no longer Y/N, she is something else entirely, something we do not even understand,” T’Challa interjected.

  “We do know. She is experiencing similar abilities to you, her eyes change color as yours does, from everything you’ve told me I could gather a few things, Bast blessed her with the power of the panther just as she blessed you with your birthright,” Zuri explained.

  “I did some research of my own brother, and based on what I found I am inclined to agree with Zuri. While the scripts in the temple are old and written by the kings of before, I found more mentions of the spirit warrior from ancient tribes dating back to the first king of Wakanda. The Spirit Warrior is the key to the growth of Wakanda. Kings can grow Wakanda but only so much until a Spirit Warrior is chosen. One has never been chosen before T’Challa. She was chosen by bast,” Shuri explained.

  The excitement in her eyes shone brightly.

  “She was chosen because her heart is pure, her soul is strong, and her love for Wakanda and its people is deep and true. Bast saw all of this. She was tested, and she prevailed. These abilities were a gift T’Challa,” Zuri finished.

  He sat there and contemplated everything his family was saying to him. It made sense and even amazed him, but still, he couldn’t shake the guilt he felt at putting her in this situation. He took a deep breath, placed his head in his hands and released the breath. Zuri placed his hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

  “This is not your fault. We will help her through this; we will work to understand this better.”

  “Eh-em.”

  He looked up and to the door and saw Y/N paused at there. She looked like an angel, but she also looked stronger. He wondered if her new “enhancements” had anything to do with it.

  “I hope I am not interrupting.”

 Shuri was the first to get up and hurry to her. She wrapped her arms around her and hugged her.

  “You look much better.”

  Y/N smiled and hugged her back. It had been too long since he saw her smile--truly smile. He missed it. He missed her. His mother soon followed and hugged her also. T’Challa looked down to his still full plate and sighed again.

  “As beautiful as ever,” his mother said.

  There were a few moments of silence he felt he should have filled with his own happy expression for her recovery, but he couldn’t speak. He was too wrapped up in his guilt. He wondered if she blamed him.

  “Come eat,” Shuri said as she pulled her to the table.

 As she sat, he looked over her features and saw no evidence of distress. He looked further down to her neck where not even a week ago had a sharp piece of glass protruding from it, today there was nothing there, no sign of injury or a battle to the death. Her skin had healed flawlessly. When her eyes met his he quickly pulled them away looking back to his plate.

  “Y/N, I am pleased you’re looking better. We were just discussing the matter of your--resurrection,” Zuri began. She smirked.

 “Resurrection; is that what we’re calling it? I guess you can call it that. I was practically dead wasn’t I.”

  “How do you feel dear?” His mother asked

  You took a deep breath and shrugged.

  “The pain in my body is gone, my head feels less hazy; I guess you could say I’m calmer. It’s just—I can hear and sense everything, all at once. It’s overwhelming,” you explained.

  “Your body is still adjusting to its metaphysical change,” Zuri enlightened.

  “I need answers Zuri, I understand this is something new, but you must know something.”

“Your time in the ancestral plane, what happened?”

  You took a long drink from your orange juice glass then sat back and tried to pull your thoughts together.

  “I was there; it was beautiful, the purples, oranges, pinks, it’s peaceful. I can see why that is the chosen resting place for the kings,” you began. T’Challa was now looking at you.

  “T’Chaka was the one to greet me.” T’Challa joined your eyes to look at his mother. She placed the tips of her fingers over her lips. You could see the tears welling in her eyes.

 “He is at peace, although he misses you queen mother and you Shuri, and you T’Challa.” They all looked down overcome with emotion.

  “The other kings were there. Also, he said my body was dying, and the Earth should not have accepted me, but it did. Then I had to stand before all the panther kings. They growled and circled me. It was terrifying. There was quiet, and that’s when I saw her.”

  “Saw who?” Shuri asked at the edge of her seat.

  “Bast.”

  Once you said it, Zuri dropped to a chair and gaped at you.

  “She revealed herself to you?”

  You nodded.

  “Yes, but she was a panther, a huge, beautiful, majestic, panther. She stared at me, and the pain was excruciating. It felt as if I was burning from the inside out and every organ was being twisted. After what felt like hours, the pain stopped, and T’Chaka told me I had to be tested, and I passed, and then I woke up here.”

  T’Challa looked around at each of them as they took in the information. Zuri looked amazed, Shuri looked puzzled, and his beautiful mother looked emotional. When he looked at you, he found your eyes already on him. He felt she was keeping more to herself. Her eyes dropped to his lips, and she licked her own. He took a deep inhale and smelled every essence that made her. God her scent was intoxicating.

  “This is incredible. Never before has this happened,” Zuri said smiling widely.

  “Everything points to you being found worthy of the panther.”

  “But why me?”

  “We do not question Bast dear, she does what she pleases and does it for a reason. You were found worthy because you are worthy. You have always been worthy,” his mother added.

  You smiled and looked down, he could hear the influx of your heartbeat and senses the change in your chemistry, your emotions were rising. He looked down at his plate. Never had he sensed you like this before. He’d never sensed anyone like this before. Weeks ago, yes, he could pick up on your moods, and even the differences in your smell, but now it was one hundred times worse. He could sense all of it and his only instincts were to console you in any way he could.

  She looked up and back to him, and everyone in the room disappeared, the only two people left you and him. Since you awoke, he’d had the strongest urges he’d ever had to fully claim you as his. The day in the forest was one of the most painful he’d ever endured. He’d thought of pushing you against the tree and plowing into you, then he’d thought of sinking you down to the river’s bank and show you just who was the king. Now he just wanted to show you how sorry he really was.

  “I can feel you.”

  T’Challa bugged his eyes wide as he stared at you. He heard the words, but your mouth never moved. She knew he’d heard her. He saw the violet in her eyes spark before she looked down to her hands.

  “Perhaps T’Challa can council you seeing that she is experiencing the same effects as you,” Shuri offered. He looked to her, and she gave him an encouraging smile. One that said she was trying to help.

  “My king,” Ayo began at the door.

  “There are a few matters that need handling. The council has been requesting a meeting since the events with Nakia and Ma’Uchi.”

  With the mention of Nakia’s name, he saw you flinch, and he felt the stab of pain in his chest. You looked pained. As if catching herself Ayo lowered her head slightly to Y/N.

  “I am sorry Y/N.”

  “Its fine Ayo.”

  “I am happy that you have recovered. We were all quite worried.”

  She smiled and nodded.

  “If you are feeling up to it perhaps a stroll through the village would serve you well, I know the people would rest assured to see you up and about,” Ayo continued.

  “The people have been very worried,” Shuri added.

  “Perhaps,” you responded.

  “As for the King, Ayo I’m sorry he has other more urgent matters to attend to than the whims of the council. They can very well continue to wait,” his mother expressed in a tone that spoke of her annoyance.

  “Mother.”

  “I will not apologize, Wakanda could have been dumped into a plot of power and treachery. If it were not for Y/N, we would have been forever changed. You, my son, would be dead. They can wait,” she finalized.

 Ayo nodded her head then bowed it and presented the salute before she walked out the dining hall. The room was left silent. He stood.

  “I do have one or two things to take care of. So if you all would excuse me.”

  He turned and walked out of the room without another word. He needed space right now. He didn’t know how he could face her knowing the hand he played in her woes. He didn’t know if his will was stronger than his guilt and shame.

 ******************

-Y-N-

 After breakfast you walked around the palace, you’d seen it all before, but somehow it was different now. Everything felt different. Certain parts of the palace the energy was different. You felt overwhelming energy in the throne room, the gardens, and Shuri’s lab. The increase in energy was addictive. It made you feel as if you could lift an entire world by yourself. It gave you a dizzying feel as if you were under some drug. You used the time to gather your thoughts and emotions. As you passed palace workers each of them stopped to express their relief you’d survived. You had no idea you mattered to any of them. It touched your heart and made you feel like this was home more and more.

  You hadn’t even thought about what you were going to do now. Before you had no choice, you’d been sent out of Wakanda because the king, the man you loved was marrying someone else. You had no choice but to move on. Now, things were different; or were they? You thought back to T’Challa at the table and his behavior. His distance was notable. He was aloof and unreadable. You couldn’t tell what he was feeling or thinking as opposed to other times. You tried to tone into him, but you had no idea what you were doing or even how to do it. His actions spoke of everything being different but for other reasons than yours. You were confused.

 Everything had happened so quickly. The plan with Steve, Sam, and Tony; then your time with the Jabari, and the unfolding of the plan; and the battle at the wedding and then the to the death fight in your bathroom. All your emotions rushed through you and with it brought everything compounding on you like a ton of bricks. You could hear everyone’s thoughts one over the other; you could feel the pain all through your body where your wounds laid now healed. You could see all the energy from the ground and then blinding light. Everything within you felt unstable. Your heart felt as if it were going to burst right from your chest. It was overwhelming. You staggered to the closest wall, leaned on it and gripped your head. You fell to your knees and felt as if you were going to pass out. You felt strong arms wrap around you, and then it all went black.

  When you opened your eyes, you felt the fresh air gently whip across your skin, and smelled the precipitation in the air. You could also hear the various sounds of animals and nature. You sat up looking around and dropped your jaw at the sight before you. You laid upon a soft daybed draped with sheer insect netting around it. When you slinked through the mesh, you stood on beautiful mahogany wood that gleamed, showing off its health. You walked forward to the insane panoramic view of Wakanda in all its glory.

 The horizon was a faint blue with bursts of orange, purple and pink. All around you could see tops of trees and out to the ocean, but in the distance, you could see all the smaller lakes as they connected. As you walked close to the mahogany railing, you marveled at how beautiful this country was. No wonder T’Chaka and kings before were reluctant with opening its borders. They had much more than vibranium to protect. This was easily the eight wonder of the world, and all the others paled in comparison.

  You slowly walked along the railing never taking your eyes off the view, everywhere you looked you saw more than met the eyes. You looked at the treetops that were more than one hundred feet away, and you clearly saw the macaque monkeys frolicking and chasing each other. You looked to the rivers and saw the Butterflyfish gracefully gliding through the water and even the African Lungfish skimming the bottom of the lake. You closed your eyes and inhaled and smelled the salt of the ocean, the richness of the dirt, the strong smell of varying animal feces and of course the sweet scent of flowers. Here your senses worked together; they weren’t all waring with the other fighting for dominance. Here, you were centered.

  You opened your eyes as the scent of T’Challa filled your nostrils. You turned in every direction; you could smell him as if he was standing next to you. You knew that if you followed your nose, it would lead you right to him. So that is what you did. You followed the railing which led around the vast floor plan. Once you turned yet another corner there, he stood with his back facing you looking at an even better view of the setting sun. You stopped in your tracks and marveled at the sight of him with nature’s painting that was better than any art in the Louvre. As if he sensed you there, he turned around stared at you. When he turned, he looked peaceful, but once he laid eyes on you, confliction took over. You slowly approached him, and his eyes never left you. Once you joined him to look out at the sunset. You took a deep breath in and slowly released it.

  “Is this better?” he asked. You looked at him and just knew what he meant.

  “Much.” He nodded, and the silence continued.

  “Where are we?”

  “My hidden slice of heaven,” he responded.

  “We should all be so lucky. It’s beautiful here, so peaceful.”

 T’Challa nodded.

  “When I became old enough that I could request things without having to seek approval I had this built in secret. When the life of prince T’Challa, the future king of Wakanda and the next black panther became too much, I came here. No one knew where I was. I stayed here for hours at a time. When I became a man, I spent days here while everyone stressed over where I was.” He smiled at the fond memories, memories you somehow felt as well.

  “Shortly after I took the herb and became the black panther the changes within me sent everything in overdrive. I heard, smelled and saw everything and being surrounded by hundreds of people made it worse, there was so much to pick up, so much to process and it was not easy. Only when I came here did I realize everything stood still. I was able to center myself, control them rather than them controlling me. I was able to understand them, hone them.”

  You understood.

  “Is that why we’re here? For me to hone them?”

  “I took a chance that this place would help you as it helped me. You cannot hone them until you understand them. I’ve had my entire life to prepare you have not. Even with a lifetime of preparedness, it was not enough; I had to deal with it first-hand.”

  You thought over his words, he was right. You felt out of control, and you hated it.

 “Okay.”

  “Okay, sit.” He climbed over the railing and sat on it. You watched him as if he were crazy.

  “You’re kidding. What if I fall?”

  You peeped over the edge at the long, perilous drop.

  “Don’t worry; I hear cats always land on their feet.”

  You snapped your head to him and saw him smiling. Your heart pounded faster. That was all it took. You followed him and climbed over the railing and sat beside him. You sat there staring at the sky and tried shut off his scent. It was a hard task.

  “Pick something to focus on. It can be anything. Pick one of your senses and focus on just that one sense. Tell me when you’ve picked one.”

  You scanned the horizon and tried to look at one thing, but your eyes darted everywhere. The only thing that remained persistent was his smell. You stopped your searching and looked to him. You sank your teeth in your bottom lip. You were afraid. Was it smart to give full attention to the thing you’ve been trying to block out? You took a deep breath and looked back out to the sky then you closed your eyes.

  “Okay.”

 “Now from that one sense, pick out one thing with that sense. So if you picked your sight, pick one thing, either a specific tree or a particular color in the sunset; one thing with that sense.”

  That one particular thing picked you.

  “Okay.”

  “All right, focus on it. Completely immerse yourself in it. The trick is to keep all the others at bay while finding one thing from that thing you’ve picked. For example, I’ve chosen my sense of hearing. My particular thing within my hearing is the sound of your heartbeat. From that, I will focus on it and nothing else, not your scent, not the lush green treetops, nothing else. From there I will pick one thing about your heartbeat, which is the fluctuations between slow and steady, to fast and erratic to barely audible. You try.”

  You felt your heartbeat pick up speed and intensity and it was all because of his words. How in the hell did he expect you to focus on one thing when he was sitting next to you, smelling like the best meal you’d had yet to taste, and with your heart competing with the sound of a marching band’s drum player. You took a deep breath and tried to center yourself. You tried to follow his instructions. You took a deep breath allowing his scent to fill you. You felt your pulse race faster. You held his scent and refused to release it. From his scent, you tried to pick one thing from it. You concentrated more intensely and realized there was a fluctuation with his smell. At times it was stronger then weaker, and it even changed. You noticed no matter what it was; you loved them all.

  Without even realizing it time stood still, everything was calm. You opened your eyes and looked to T’Challa who was already staring at you. The two of you sat silently just taking each other in. In your head you saw the night the two of you sat in the hotel room, the first night you nearly kissed. Then it moved to the night you finally did kiss, then to the night T’Challa kissed everywhere on your body. With every memory, his scent changed, and your heartbeat increased.

  “Once you master that you know how that sense works, then you do it with the remaining others. The more you practice, the easier it becomes.”

   “How long did it take you to master all of them?”

  He smirked and looked back to the sky that was not black. The forest was alive with all the sounds of nature.

  “When I became the black panther all of my typical traits enhanced. My stubbornness, my love of control, my competitiveness---,” he said before he looked at you.

  “This is not a competition Y/N.”

  You smiled and nodded. A peaceful silence fell between you, one that didn’t need filling with words. One that didn’t feel awkward or strange. This silence made you feel as if you weren’t alone; you truly felt a connection not only with Wakanda but the king sitting beside you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[shadowmooxn]

Genesis x Zuri

"Zuri!" Genesis shouted out when he desperately tried to keep up when the dark hair female have looked over her shoulder, watching her auburn-haired friend ran after her in what is clearly to be an annoyed expression.

A light but playful giggle escaped her lips when she rounded another corner of the ShinRa building. Genesis was a great friend of hers, but he was far too fun to mess with. His infatuation with his favorite book, LOVELESS, was a tool that Zuri all too commonly exploited for a few laughs. Sure, he was fast and agile. But, her feminine form gave her a distinct advantage over him. He was going to be angry, if not enraged if he wasn't already. Maybe the roof would be a great new home for the book.

However, she had not been paying much attention and had taking mostly random turns around the halls. when she found herself cornered at a dead end. The sound of his heavy footstep told her that he wasn't far behind. The corridor was fairly narrow, so attempting to dart past him was a risky maneuver. But she didn't have much time to think of her other options before she was pushed up against the wall forcefully by another body. His vibrant, blue eyes bore into hers, clearly unhappy with her. Though, he more resembled a child about to throw a tantrum than an angered adult male

"Hello Gen, Gen" Zuri cooed, turning up the charm on trying to soften the male up and try to lighten the mood a bit with a smiled "What's up?"

"You know exactly what's up, give me back LOVELESS." He growled, with both hands placed out on the wall, trapping her effectively.

"LOVELESS? I haven't seen it..." She said innocently, fingering the pages and binding of the book though she have to be crafty if she wanted to prolong her mischief, "Honestly, Genesis, I haven't seen it anywhere."

"Please." He snickered a little but stilled trapping the female between himself and the wall behind her so no other escape would occur "Give it back, Zuri"

"Aw, Gen-Gen, how about we have a trade?" She suggested, keeping the book snugly behind her back in order to prevent him from any sudden attempts at stealing it back.

He snorted, at the idea then again would he have a another choice for it "All right. I'll spare your life in exchange for LOVELESS."

"You're no fun." Zuri pouted after hearing such words coming from him while gripping the book even tighter.

"Well then, SOLDIER 1st Class Zuri, what do you want?" Genesis questioned plainly. which did made her appeared to be stumped for a bit, trying to find a good option, before a wicked, near diabolical idea came to mind, "I'm waiting, Zuri. I don't have all day." He huffed a bit impatient when she tittered for a few moments, just imagining his response to her request.

His brow arched at her sudden laughter as Zuri looked up at him with a smirk on her lips "I want a kiss." she giggled on wanted to see his reaction to it.

"Excuse me?" He sputtered, recoiling in disbelief, clearly not expected it at all when he stare at her on not being sure if she's serious.

"You heard me right, Genesis Rhapsodos." Zuri tapped her index finger on her chin while containing an innocent expression.

"A kiss on the lips." His expression was indeed an adventure from start to finish. Where Zuri had caught him off guard well

"I'm waiting, Genesis. Unless, of course, you really don't want LOVELESS back." She smiled, on her mockery was well played. Sure, that involved a bit of manipulation, but she had to see if he would follow through on his end of the deal.

Sure enough, Genesis really wanted that book back. Sighing, he muttered that she should close her eye's. Zuri obeyed him, waiting. Then she felt it, ever so tender and warm. His lips were surprisingly soft pressed against her. He was a little stiff from embarrassment, but a talented kisser none the less.

Zuri encircled her arms around his neck, one hand playing with his pierced ear. The shiver that ran through his body further emboldened her. Though the female is rather inexperienced, gently moved her lips against his, coaxing him to take it a step further. He was stubborn as a mule and didn't budge.

God, he could be so childish and arrogant sometimes. And yet, simultaneously adorable. but she was surprised that he hadn't tried to take advantage of the situation and steal LOVELESS back, probably because of the position she had put herself in to keep the book out of his grasp. The close proximity allowed her to feel the heat radiating off his cheeks.

Zuri would have continued kissing the auburn-haired male, but the slow, yet almost sarcastic clapping tugged her out of her haze. In fact, it brought the two out of the moment to focus on reality. There, standing not more than fifteen feet away were Angeal and Sephiroth, the latter of the duo was twirling a digital camera by the strap. Both of them chuckling with enormous, amused smirks on their features. Genesis' head whipped around, a look of absolute mortification on his face. It could be safely said that his entire face was a lovely shade of crimson.

"Well, well, well," Sephiroth snickered, "I knew you were close with Zuri, Genesis. But I have to admit, I didn't quite think you two were that close."

"Sephiroth! Angeal! Th-this isn't what it looks like! I swear!" He tried to explain, moving his arms from the wall to free her and turn around to face his comrades.

"I'm not so sure, Genesis. The proof really is in the pudding this time." Angeal jerked his thumb to the camera in Sephiroth's hand. They had caught those two in the act and red handed. Genesis stuttered for a few moments, making various hand gestures and expression as he tried to explain his actions where she have decided to help him out a little bit,

"Aw Gen, there's no need to be so embarrassed. You were a really great kisser, after all." She crooned, feigning innocence. He shifted his attention to her, whirling around to face the female. He looked so betrayed. In fact, he had been betrayed by the three. And it was fully possible that more could join them if Sephiroth and Angeal decided to abuse the picture that they had taken. While Zuri would be the subject of great rumor and embarrassment, so she figured it was going to be worth it. Genesis' face was no longer a crimson, but rather a deep shade of burgundy.

"Any dates planned yet?" Sephiroth hummed, egging Genesis on. It didn't take her long to remember a little something,

"Hey, Gen, I almost forgot, here's LOVELESS back. I mean, you kissed me, so I should hold up on my end of the deal." Zuri explained, arms outstretched with the book in her hands. as she had efficiently worsened his situation to the outside viewer, but the look on his face and blush adorning his cheeks was priceless.

"Hmm, I bargain? You were deeper in with Zuri than I previously thought." Angeal noted amusedly, "I can assure that things are going to get very interesting for you two."

Genesis appauled at the behavior became incensed. Snatching the book from her stands then the male would strode past angrily

"You all suck." He growled, before storming off from being angry and at the same time embarrassed.

[sketch-guardian]

Unfortunately this year I wasn't able to draw anything for Mammon's birthday😭and another thing that saddened me was not being able to play Baldur's Gate 3, because my computer sucks and doesn't have the minimum requirements for the game😥However to cheer me up a bit and sort of make up for my few posts, here are some fluffy sketches about RAD CLASSMATES X GENDER NEUTRAL MC✨I hope they're decent enough🙈:

DEMYA X MC

DOMNRA (MOBIM) X MC

AZUL X MC

ZURI X MC

ODON X MC

[whispers-of-ink]

2186, Chapter XII: The reflexes of the consequences

The pain, overwhelming and disconcerting, made its way  from the forehead to the epicenter of thoughts like an arrow, dominating them. Slipping between the folds of consciousness, awakening each nerve center, expanding like lightning, forcing the brain to return to reality. The muscles began to wake up, regaining control of them, letting the light of a cold lamp penetrate the retinas. The light became shadows, and Harper found a hospital room.

The therapist watched sitting on the edge of the bed with a cup of steaming coffee in his hands. He was warming up with it, rather than drinking it.

“Good morning, Harper. How was the adventure?”

Harper couldn’t tell if it was sarcasm, disappointment or the sad condescension that is given to a child who has really screwed up and nothing can be done about it. Wanted to answer him, maybe even furiously, but the throat was so dry it hurt to think about it. Trying to move the hand, Harper noticed the handcuffs. Wanted to be angry about this, but for now the body weighed too much, tiredness pulled from every joint, so Harper laid still and squinted the eyes in mild defiance.

"That’s for your own safety, believe me,” he said, looking at the handcuffs. “We’ve been here several times. I know you’re wondering what do I mean, and we will give you water in a few moments so you can relieve that sore throat. It’s better if you don’t try to say anything until then.” He turned to the door, stopped and turned back. “But first... I want us to talk about what you’ve been doing this past months.”

Harper did not remember his name and, as seconds went by, was starting to feel real panic. Perhaps, for the first time in that future, it felt like the Old Town was kind of a lost home. The fact was that Harper felt away from home, vulnerable, and no one knew where to head for a rescue mission. With the body immobilized and a nameless doctor, in a hospital room... Anything could happen there. The explosion, they had been caught, they had fixed the machines before anyone could celebrate. The room had a window but on the other side there were only nurses, there were no other beds, did not know where Zuri or Maura were... What had happened to the rest? Where were they? What had happened to them?

They skinned people, dismembered them and threw them to the cows. What little remained of them was turned into machines, servos, robots, spies, tincans, slaves of the system. That was legal and whatever that man wanted to do next probably was too, no matter how macabre. The overwhelm was beginning to turn into anxiety.

The therapist put a filing cabinet between his legs and started to pass the sheets.

 “We gave you a job at a school so you could get in touch with reality. You achieved a more than acceptable productivity, but for some reason you decided to quit. I imagine you felt the pressure of change in society; did you think that someone would hurt you because of your organicity?”

He inclined his head forward, looking at Harper over the glasses that, as Harper noticed right then, had no glass; optimal people didn’t have vision problems.

“We have told you before that these changes in society, often with roots as radical as those witnessed in your school, are only passing, if somewhat worrisome. I imagine you’ll be happy to know that a few months ago those responsible for certain disappearances were brought to justice. By the Optimal Order, of course, your little gang had nothing to do with it.”

Yes, Harper was happy. Or would have been happy, rather, if running out of that place to confirm it was true would have been an option. But of course.

He passed a couple of sheets.

“You had a prettyserious argument with a co-worker. Amanda, is it? Cruel on your part, by the way, but it was to be expected given your Deficiencyist mentality. It seems another constant in your behaviour; facing a reality that isn’t what you expected you tend to... rejection.” He passed more sheets. “Ah, another example, that you fled after our little chat. Your inability to attend to logical reasoning is overwhelming.”

No saliva, the tongue was a foreign body, a dry, stiff cloth in the mouth, that would gladly have spit at him if it could. What did he know? And why did he know so much?

“I know what you’re thinking.” He smirked with too much self-sufficiency. “What I want to know is what did you think you’d achieve by assaulting a power plant with your little gang of terrorists. Don’t look at me like that, Harper, that’s what you are. Terrorist. Do you know how many people have died because of you? Are you aware of the costs of your little adventure? Not to mention that my thesis is now hanging by a thread because of you, and it is the work of four opyears that I am not going to give up.”

He stood up and brought back a cart with a TV on top. The image was frozen in something indecipherable.

He handed a glass, too, “Here.”

The liquid was bluish, that was not water, but what could be done but drink it with resignation? Not obeying would likely made it worse, someone would come to force it down the throat.

“Good, I wouldn’t want your jaw to break again. It’s too expensive.”

He took away the glass, drank from his cup and stepped aside. He pushed the play touch-button. The image cleared. It was fire, an explosion. The flames reached everywhere as the frames advanced. It looked like a tunnel. An underground road. There were screams.

A journalist explained that the sudden general blackout had caused several accidents in the area, preventing health services from reaching the most affected. Several optimals, who had been in the midst of explosions and reason to the accidents, hadn’t been able to make it out. They had been trapped in the flames. Their brains had melted inside their metal casings. Others had suffocated when their steel lungs had began to malfunction, unable to filter the smoke. Even in the vicinity, many improved and organics had had no chance of survival.

On the other hand, there had been several collapses. The foundations of the buildings were prpared for catastrophic eventualities, but the ground was not. Several first floors had fallen on the tunnels that passed below, exploding gas systems and plugging the roads. Chaos reigned on the screen, and as Harper’s mouth began to feel better, the sirens of ambulances, police cars and screams penetrated the mind like darts. The images went on with ferocity, each one more raw. Some had been censored for being too hurtful to sensitivity.

Unable to say anything, Harper watched with cold horror the consequences of their actions knowing that there was no way to fix it. Broken families, dreams, futures. Tincans, yes, but organic people too. They should have known. Zuri should have been aware of this. No, ne sure knew this would happen. Did ne care about anyone’s life? Why hadn’t ne said anything? Why hadn’t ne prevented it? What kind of monster was ne?

Harper felt fury, but did not dare to let it out.

The therapist turned the television off. All that remained on its shiny surface was Harper’s face, whimpering in daring silence. Seconds went by, eyes returning an unrecognizable empty stare.

Zuri was not going to take responsability of any of it, so, what did it matter? Who was going to believe Harper had no guilt in this?

“What are you waiting for!? What do you want from me!?”

“Look at yourself.”

“I am not guilty of any of this! Do you hear me!? I’m innocent!”

“Weren’t you at the plant with your Organist friends, precisely at the LGT room?”

“Yes, but...?”

“Face your mistakes, Harper.”

What Harper did was scream with all the strength. Shouted, and kicked, and tried to get free of the handcuffs until the fatigue, not long after, won. Then, looked back at the reflection in that makeshift mirror.

"I don’t...” Harper stopped.

There was something there. A small fault in the face. A subtle yet strange, almost mechanical movement in the skin from the jaw to the right eye. It moved, even if when not talking. A slight tension sliding towards the nose, exposing, under the flesh, a piece of... a...

A scream of horror escaped the lips.

Harper lost the notion of time. Several people came to inyect tranquilizers in the arm. The screams went on without control, the muscles tensing to the point where they seemed to break.

Only, they could not, because they did not exist. There had never been a single muscle under that skin. Nor flesh, nor bones, nor veins, nor body.

“Three hours and twenty-three minutes.” The therapist wrote down on a sheet. “Your average.”

"What have you... done to me?”

A strange calm. Forced. The drug impeded total consciousness, but what consciencie could one have being little more than an articulated metal plate?

“Oh, Harper,” he laughed, lovingly. “I haven’t done this to you. No, this was done to you some time ago. You see...”

He sat back on the bed and removed the earplugs from his ears.

"There was an accident halfway through your cryogenization. The contract required us to keep your life safe, so they had to optimize you.” He shrugged. “But, there was the tiniest problem...” He adjusted his glasses with a clear intention to give effect, although Harper was barely aware of it. “Your data got lost. Every hard drive, shup!” He gesticuled. “Gone. The accident compromised your history and body. Female, male, in between... Who could know? Lucky for you, the technology had advanced enough to allow for slight modifications of memory and... Well, that’s where I come in.” He smiled. “We’ve already been more than twenty times around here. Your organic memory was broken, there was, right there, an incredible opportunity to learn about the brain and improve it, so... why not help you?”

“I’m not more than an experiment?” An dissapointed voiced said, but Harper didn’t recognize it as the own.

He showed a paper. “No, no, you gave your consent.”

"That’s not my signature."

“Or maybe it is, it’s not like you’d be able to remember.” He winked, putting it back into the folder. “You’re a wonder, Harper, just like your partner. Zuri, that’s what ne goes by, isn’t it?”

“... Zuri?”

“Yeah, ner body had to be optimized too. But ne was able to accept the optimization. Ne got away, you know? A very smart one. You’ve found each other several times before, ne was very fond of you. Other times ne has managed to remove the tracker chip from you, but it seems ne has forgotten it this time. Tsk. It’s for the best, really. It is the first time we’ve been able to catch ner, it’s a pity that one of those explosions ended ner life. Ne was magnificent.”

He stood up and pushed the television away. Harper hardly noticed the difference. With closed eyes, the world ceased to exist around anymore.

“Thanks to you two, we can understand better the human brain. With you we have managed to erarse memories without affecting the generation of new ones. Isn’t it wonderful? Maybe one day we can gor beyond the vision and sense chips, rebuild brains!”

He seemed fascinated by the idea, but Harper didn’t know how to react to that.

The only clear thought was not wanting to be it.

“Please... please... kill me.”

“What?”

The therapist came closer to the bed. Harper opened the eyes a little.

“Let me die,” whispered.

He smiled slightly and nodded. “Don’t worry. There will be no pain.”

Harper nodded and closed the eyes again.

“You won’t remember any of this when you wake up.”

Previous Chapter | The End

Well, this is the last chapter to Harper’s story in 2186!

I feel the need to clarify something; this story was a challenge from me to myself. I’ve wanted to write a pronoun-less story for a very long time, and I eventually managed to do it. But I did it in Spanish, where the possesive pronouns are neutral, and we don’t need to specify the subject in every sentence. When I began translating it to English I just noticed... it’s almost impossible! I’ve done it to the extent of my best capabilities, but at the expense of some (minor) meanings gettiing lost, and some complex phrasing.

I also loved writing my first ever non binary character! Ne’s probably going to be around sometime, even if not in this blog.

So...  I hope you liked it a lot and please, leave your comments below! What did you think of it? Did you like it? Any constructive reviews? How did you see Harper? Male, female, woman, man, non binary?

[anxiousauthor89]

The Circle Of Saving Lives

The barrel of the gun was right in Trinity’s face. Knowing it was her time she silently said a quick prayer for her daughter and closed her eyes. “Mama don’t look.” She whimpered. Feeling something shove her to the side while Judith let out a scream the gun went off. Using her arms to slide up from the fall on her hip, Trinity sat up to see her mother face down in a pool of blood gasping for air. Dropping the gun Azury screamed in regret. “She pushed you! I was supposed to shoot you, that wasn’t meant for her! The order from Big Daddy was to shoot you I didn’t mean to shoot her!” Trinity wept as she held her mothers head and watched her eyes roll and close as the last breath of air left her body. Kissing her face Trinity held her mothers body and rocked. “Fuck dat baby she should have stayed out the way get me to the car we gotta go.” Obeying orders Azury got behind the wheelchair, pushed hard, and ran for the door. “You got me so fucked up pussy hoe.” Trinity gritted from her teeth. Leaving her mothers body lifeless and limp, and feeling a rage only the devil could create, Trinity picked up the gun, aimed and shot. A single bullet to the back of Azury’s head stopped the push of Shawn’s wheelchair. Her body leaned forward and fell across Shawn’s shoulder. “Baby! Zury!!  Awww no no no nooo!!! Baby come on get up we gotta go man you gotta fuckin push me! Get off me and push!” Shawn pleaded in panic with the corpse bleeding all over him. Walking around to the front of the wheelchair Trinity heard police sirens near by. “Its over Shawn. This is the end.” She said as she looked deep into his terrified face. “Trin come on now....I got money we can leave together all you gotta do is get this dead bitch off my shoulder and push me to the car its half a mill in the back seat, hell it might be more! The perfect amount for us to just start over baby!” He breathed heavily as he could hear the sirens getting closer. “The doors are open baby come on we aint gotta let me go to jail like this! Them niggas gon kill me in there!” Shawn begged as he began to cry. Trinity stared at him, realizing Shawn was right. Jail is not what he deserved. “Fuck!” she mumbled.” You right! Ok, Hold on baby. Let me get the money.” Feeling elated, Shawn smiled. “Yeeeaaaaaa that's my lil bad bitch! Hurry up! Them mufukkas bout to be here!” She quickly ran to his car, and saw the camaflauge duffle bag. She knew the money was there. He had been using that same bag as a stash since she met him. Yanking the bag from the back seat and slamming the door she sprinted back to the hospital. Time was ticking. His time was ticking. The sirens were getting closer. The voices in her head would not be silent. She pleaded with herself. “Don’t do this Trin it would be so fucked up.” But a rage of revenge overtook her as she had to see her mothers body lying there getting cold. This was not fucked up. This was right. And she had to do it even if nobody understood why. She put the bag on her back and walked back to the lobby where Shawn was sitting stuck. “Okay baby good girl! I knew you aint want me in jail! Come on lets go!” He smiled thinking he was free. Shaking her head at him in disgust, Trinity looked over at her mothers body one last time. “I love you mama and I am so so sorry. Thank you for saving me. I know I will see you again.” Before she could give it another second thought, she quickly turned back to Shawn, aimed at his face, and pulled the trigger twice. He died instantly, his head flying back as blood shot out of his mouth staining his gold teeth. Dropping the gun, Trinity ran outside to the curb, spotted her father and daughter in the car and gave him the bag. Seeing her covered in blood and noticing Judith was not there Elijah jumped out. “What is wrong?! Where’s mama?!” He grabbed her searching her eyes for answers. “Daddy, take this bag and my purse with the birth certificate and go. Now! You gotta take care of Myricle now, you and Melodie. What's in this bag is a good head start for you, ok?  You hear me? Be strong daddy! I will explain everything soon but right now I need you to go! Now!” Trinity pleaded. Trying to take in the information Elijah realized his wife wasn't coming home. And neither was Trinity. He hugged her so tight she couldn't breathe. “I got Myricle.” he kissed her cheek and forehead. “I promise.” After he let her go she leaned in the back seat and kissed her daughter. “Papa got you pretty girl. Be good for him.” Seeing the police cars down the street Trinity waved to her daddy and blew him kisses as he drove away. “I love you” she mouthed making a heart shape with her hands. Nodding his head with tears in his eyes he mouthed back “Love you more.” Patting his chest and making the peace sign, he hit the gas, making a left as the police made a right just seconds after he was gone. Trinity walked back to the front door where she had committed her crimes and sat down Indian style with her hands up. The sirens she heard blaring were finally flashing their lights in her face as she surrendered.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              That was 17 almost 18 years ago. I was just a  newborn baby then. I only know the story because my Papa told it to me before he died. He always wanted to make sure I knew how special I was. I saw my mama twice a week. We had a good relationship. She had people in the jail draw me stuff. And always made sure she was good so her visits with me were never cut short. She loved me so much and told me a hundred times. But that jail changed her. Year after year I could see it. That place made her hard, and cold. I guess because she had to be tough. By the time she was killed in a fight at the prison, she didn’t have that special glow anymore. It was long gone. We had to get her cremated because we didn’t have money to bury her. I never even got to see her body. I know she would be proud of me though. Sometimes I think I can feel her around me. Now I am a mama and its just me and my kids. I got pregnant at 14, and just had one 9 months ago. Auntie Melodie is around but she's so out of her mind from medications, she's like my third baby. I take care of her. Grocery store in the day time and dancing in the club at night. Its not the best but its the best I can do. When I get older I’m going to doctor school. I’m gonna give my babies a life they can only see on TV. Dr. Myricle Sharee Steeples. Sound good don’t it? I’ll be right where I need to be. God saved me and my mama. A few times. My grandma saved my mama. Then my mama saved me and my Papa. Then Papa saved me. So if I become a doctor, that’s a good way of paying it forward like Papa taught me. And my girls Joy and Harmony gon do the same. Hopefully I start school in a year or so, then I can move on and I can finally play my role in the circle of saving lives. 

[sketch-guardian]

Mc getting into a fist with a demon and winning (only asking this because of a passing thought with my mc lmao)

Hi☺✨First of all, before starting with the headcanon, I would like to apologize for the lack of posts in this period😥but I've been a bit busy and as far as the sketches are concerned, as you can imagine, they are progressing, it's just that I'm slow as hell at drawing🙈so to make up for it, I'm working on some RAD classmates x Y/N (anon/MC) art💜Now regarding your ask, I'd say that it's clear enough that messing around with MC isn't a good idea😂and that they know how to defend themself😌but in any case, here's the reaction of the RAD classmates:

RAD CLASSMATES WITH AN MC WHO GOT INTO A FIST FIGHT WITH A DEMON (AND WON)

DEMYA

Demya would honestly be very proud of MC and the idea of ​​her mate engaged in a fight to the death would attract/excite her quite a lot, perhaps also due to the propensity for fighting that her family and tribe had. Besides, she wouldn't care much about the reason for the quarrel, nor who was right or wrong, because Demya would still protect MC in any case and at any cost, what kind of mate would she be otherwise? She believes their relationship dinamyc is the "ride or die couple" after all.

Anyway, in case another fight were to be repeated, Demya, if present, would ask MC to let her join them, because she would find the idea of ​​a couple fighting side by side...romantic, in its own strange way

DOMNRA/MOBIM

Domnra would probably be proud of MC for being able to defend themself without using magic and relieved because their training together paid off, but he would advise his partner to still be careful and call him the next time other demons decide to bother them to such an extent that it ends in a fight, which, coming from him, would come across as a bit hypocritical given his anger management issues, but this could result in an opportunity for Domnra and MC to work together on how to vent their stress in a non-destructive way.

Mobim, on the other hand, would be very worried and would stay close to MC more than usual, both to make sure that their conditions are stable, and because it hopes that its presence will dissuade MC from engaging in more fights with other demons in the future...Mobim doesn't like when MC or Domnra risk getting hurt, it makes the little curse tear up

AZUL

Considering how much of a simp Azul is towards his lovely star, MC's strength and dominance in combat would make him swoon and most likely flirt with MC, complimenting their strength and courage in facing a demon without magic.

In case MC got wounds or bruises, Azul would take care of them, using cute plasters and personally kissing better each bruise, because according to him, kisses make pain go away more than any other kind of magic (if MC got too hurt though, Azul would use magic, leaving aside the more traditional methods). Also next time he'd like to assist, just to cheer for MC like the fanboy he is and to step in in case something went wrong

ZURI

Among the RAD classmates, Zuri would probably be the least in agreement with MC's choice to use violence, even if deserved, only because she worries that her beloved could receive disciplinary measures in case they were in the wrong for starting a brawl and she would also find it a waste of time to get their hands dirty because of another annoying demon.

Zuri would recognize MC's impressive physical performance, and would probably turn a blind eye this time, but she would suggest them to use magic in case such an event repeated itself, or to let her take care of the problem directly, since Zuri knows how to be very...persuasive, both with words and even with a single icy glare

ODON

Although violence doesn't bother Odon, considering that they had to deal with it for many years of their long life and that it's a rather common phenomenon in Devildom, they would be worried about MC, certainly pleasantly surprised by their physical strenght despite their human nature, but still worried because MC is their dear friend and Odon doesn't want them to get in danger or trouble (although usually, saying that MC is with Odon, is enough to keep most demons at bay).

Odon would make sure MC is feeling okay and then ask them to try their best not to react harshly to taunts from any demons, because it wouldn't be worth it to ruin their day due to an unkind person, or at the very least...to bring the eye-like creatures with them, who should be enough to repel other demons or at least those with a common sense. The eye-like creatures would act like creepy watchdogs, so MC shouldn't have any more problems

[sketch-guardian]

Thinking about it a little, I got a cute thing to ask about! What is the MC's name on the classmates' contact list before and after relationship? 🥺 - Isa

Hello again! This is a very interesting ask and it made me think🤔since I've never thought about such details🤷🏻so here are my conclusions✨ (in case you need an explanation on the reason for these nicknames, feel free to ask!)

WHAT IS MC'S NAME IN RAD CLASSMATES'S CONTACT LIST BEFORE AND AFTER THEIR RELATIONSHIP?

BEFORE

DEMYA: Snack

DOMNRA: Mobim's Acquaintance

AZUL: Human Exchange Student No. 2

ZURI: MC

ODON: Potential Friend

AFTER

DEMYA: Mate😋❤

DOMNRA: Partner😈

AZUL: My Lovely Star⭐💙

ZURI: Beloved💕

ODON: Dear Friend MC💚

I'm not sure how cute or romantic these are, but I hope it's enough🙈

[sketch-guardian]

My drop kicking a demon cause they heard them talking crap about our lovely RAD classmates

I apologize for the delay in replying🙈but having started university again, I have less free time to draw or write😥in any case, it's been a while since I wrote for the RAD classmates, so I'm glad☺as always, I'll try my best to write satisfying scenarios✨even if sometimes short😖:

MC DROP KICKING A DEMON THAT TALKED CRAP THE RAD CLASSMATES

DEMYA

Demya would be flattered by such demonstrative act of power and affection. Impressed by the human display of strenght, she would view it as one more reason to love MC, for whom she would return the gesture in a heartbeat obviously, it would be an opportunity to show what a good girlfriend she is for them and that she is capable of providing for her mate's protection.

It's also likely that whoever offended her and made MC angry, especially if a lesser demon, will become her next meal, so it shouldn't be too surprising if the culprit disappears days later

DOMNRA (MOBIM)

Domnra isn't used to being defended from that point of view. Being a former soldier, he never had problems fighting back physically, while as far as his honor was concerned, he almost always ignored the criticisms or insults directed towards him, aware that they were justified (if mean words were meant for Mobim however, he used to turn to violence pretty quickly-). He would appreciate the sense of fairness in the relationship though, despite his tsundere attitude. Domnra would find his partner MC's action attractive.

Mobim on the other hand would be more worried than impressed, because the little curse doesn't like when MC gets into trouble, even if it's for a good cause

AZUL

Azul would fawn over MC and if possible he would love to watch the fight honestly, because he would find his lovely star's protective side irresistible.

The unfortunate demon's comments wouldn't bother him much, in fact he would actually view such insults as quite pathetic and funny. However, if he learned that the demon hit MC back, then in that case Azul would might have a bad mood swing

ZURI

Zuri would have preferred MC to react in a more mature manner, to demonstrate their superiority and since she doesn't need protection, however she would understand the occasional loss of control and appreciate the thought.

Later she would offer her beloved alternative methods to relax and don't think about such useless waste of space anymore, that being the demon who dared insulting her and testing MC's patience

ODON

Odon would be cutely confused, because they wouldn't think that there could be someone who could care about them so much as to go so far as to do certain crazy things for their good, it would be a new concept for Odon, a bizarre but pleasant experience basically.

They would be touched by the gesture, even though they have abandoned violent methods of conflict resolution centuries ago and would make sure that their dear friend MC is safe and no longer stressed